Miles Lesson - Jennifer Connors.pdf

Chapter 3
Riding on horseback, Miles approached the estate where he spent all
his youth. He was born there and had lived there until he left for
school. He remembered nursemaids, governesses, tutors and
instructors. What he didn't remember was a time when his parents
took any interest in him whatsoever. They spent most of the year in
London, leaving him behind with a bevy of servants to see to his care.
Technically, the house now belonged to him. There was a smaller,
dowager house on the estate that his mother should occupy, but up
until now, Miles saw no reason to move her. However, if she insisted
that he make a match during this party, he would have her moved
before the ink dried on his wedding certificate.
Approaching the house, he had a stab of conscience. Would Bethany
approve? he wondered. Shaking his head, Miles put her out of his
mind. Since when did that woman become the yardstick against which
he measured his behavior? He'd lived over thirty years of his life
without her and he could do so again.
One of the groomsmen came out to retrieve his horse before Miles
could put his feet on the ground. Miles recognized the boy, but had no
idea of his name. For some reason, that bothered him.
“What is your name, boy?” he asked, trying to assuage his guilt.
With a startled look, as if being caught with his hand in the cookie jar,
the lad answered, “D... Daniel, your grace.”
“Thank you, Daniel. You are doing a fine job.” Leaving the boy to his
duty, completely missing the shocked look on the young groom's face,
Miles walked up to the front door. Before he could lay a hand on it, the
door was opened by a sour looking, older gentleman.
“Bosworth, how are you?” Miles inquired as he removed his gloves
and hat, handing them to the dour butler.