Page 2 of The Major's Mistake
even several inches from the ground. She refrained from offering any help, knowing how much it pleased him to be able to help her, and merely watched with a fond expression as he managed to lug it across the stone floor of the entryway and into the hallway. Then with a small sigh, she brushed a fewremaining wisps of straw from her faded skirts and entered the small sitting room to the left of the stairs.
“Did you find everything you needed, my dear?” Her great aunt looked up from the mending in her lap. Though advanced in years, her face still retained the classic features that had made her a Diamond of the First Water in her day. Her once raven hair, now entirely silver, was as thick as in her youth, and age had not dulled the vibrancy of her sea green eyes, nor the look of keen intelligence that lurked in their depth. “I feared that you and Justin might be caught unaware by the storm blowing down off Ben Lomond. You must be chilled to the bone in any case. Come sit by the fire and I’ll ring for some tea.”
“It is still early in the season, but I did manage to find some goldenseal. I should have been disappointed had I not been able to locate all the ingredients. Mrs. Fraser is feeling even more poorly than she did last week and I know this potion will help her.” Miranda took a chair near the hearth and stretched out her hands towards the flames as she repressed a slight shiver. “Tea would be lovely, Aunt Sophia.”
Lady Thornton’s face took on an expression of concern. “You must have a care, Miranda, that you do not push yourself too hard and take ill as well. You are not responsible for every ache and cough in the entire shire.”
“But it is so hard to say no when I can help them with the knowledge I have gained.”
“I know, my dear, and have nothing but admiration for the good works you do. But I still worry.” Her brows came together slightly. “And I wish you would let me provide you with a new gown and a warm cloak and gloves?—”
Miranda’s slender hands knotted together in her lap. “You already do so much for us,” she answered in a low voice. “I must accept your generosity in providing a roof over our heads and food on the table but I will not take a penny of yours for anythingelse. You have little enough to spare—I can see to the needs of Justin and myself.”
Lady Thornton gave a sigh of exasperation. “As if you and Justin are a burden to me! I can well afford to keep my family in comfort if not in luxury. And well I know that every farthing of your meager income is spent on your son, not on yourself.”
“I have little need of anything,” she replied doggedly. “What does it matter whether my gown is new or worn?”
“It matters to me. Because I do not wish to see my dear niece in rags.”
Miranda’s chin rose a fraction. “You are not responsible for my predicament—why, I don’t even have a claim to call you aunt or to appeal to your charity except by … marriage.”
Two spots of color rose to Lady Thornton’s cheeks. “I will pretend that I didn’t hear that.”
Miranda bit her lip and turned away toward the fire as she struggled to repress the tears welling her eyes. “I didn’t mean to sound so ungrateful. You know you are dearer to me than anyone?—”
Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of an elderly maid carrying a tray with the tea and an assortment of cakes. She was followed by Justin, telltale crumbs of fresh shortbread clinging to his ruddy cheeks.
“I am not sure toads like shortbread,” he announced, as he peeked down into his shirt.
Miranda could hardly keep a straight face, despite the emotions stirred by the previous exchange of words. “Well, perhaps it is an acquired taste, And perhaps Mr. Toad should not learn to like it, lest he feel deprived once he returns to the wild.”
Lady Thornton smiled as well. She was well used to her young relative’s fascination with both flora and fauna. “I need not ask what is making the muslin of your shirt twitch in such a manner.”
“Would you like to see him?” asked Justin eagerly
“I believe Aunt Sophia knows what a toad looks like,” said his mother dryly.
“Oh, very well.” He surreptitiously took up a slice of rich Dundee cake studded with raisins. “May I go show Angus, then? He could help me make a box and fix it with some nice dirt and leaves.”
“Yes, you may. But you mustn’t be too long. Supper will be ready soon, and then there is a bath awaiting before bedtime.”
“Yes, Mama.” The little boy’s shoulders sagged in resignation as he abandoned the fleeting hope that his mother had forgotten about the promised soap and water.
“And that’s quite enough sweets for now.”
His hand shot back from the tray. “Yes, Mama.”
As soon as he was gone from the room, both of the ladies couldn’t help but exchange amused smiles.
“I vow, my life would be sadly flat without the two of you here, so let me never hear another word about you being a burden to me,” said Lady Thornton as she poured them both a cup of tea.
“Oh, Aunt Sophia, I’m so sorry if I?—”
“You needn’t say anything more on the matter. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know your determination to deal with the consequences of … the past.” Lady Thornton pushed at the gold spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose and cleared her throat. “While you know I have always admired your courage, I cannot help at times to think you allow … pride to cloud your better judgement.”
Miranda’s head jerked up and she looked for a moment as if to speak. Then she bit her lip and began to stir her tea.
“But let us talk of other things,” her great aunt said quietly. “Did you see Mr. MacAllister in the south fields? He wanted to ask your opinion on ….”
