Page 27 of Refining the Debutante
Too tired to think on it, Miranda returned to Sarah’s side. Hours passed, and finally Kurt returned.
“Many in the village are sick. The doctor’s wife said he will come when he can, but we must wait our turn.”
She nodded her thanks, her voice stuck in her throat. It was late before Miranda finally made the long walk from the servants’ quarters back to her room. Exhaustion overpowered her anxiety, and she fell into a deep slumber. She did not know how long she slept, but the gleam of the sun’s rays piercing through the gap between dusty curtains caused her to wake with a start. She jerked up in her bed and pushed back the bedraggled hair by her face.
Sarah.
Miranda threw back the covers and bolted from her room. Running the length of the passageway, she nearly collided with a disgruntled maid. “Sorry!” she called as she flew by. When she reached the open door of Sarah’s room, she had to grab the door post to slow her pace before propelling herself into the small room. What she saw forced her heart and feet to still instantly. Mrs. Guttridge stood over the bed, blocking Sarah from view. Miranda heard the unbending woman sniff. Was she crying?
She would only cry if...
No, Sarah could not be dead.No, no, no.
Miranda pushed past Mrs. Guttridge’s hefty form. Sarah lay there with her eyes open. And she was breathing.
“Oh, blessed girl!” Miranda cried. “You are alive!” God had heard her. He had delivered Sarah from death’s grasp.
“Yes, but she will be leaving us yet,” Mrs. Guttridge’s voice was altered, as if she had caught the same illness as the rest of them, and her annoyance was a far cry from the emotional one Miranda had imagined.
She ignored Mrs. Guttridge and stared in disbelief at Sarah. She put her hand on Sarah’s head to find it blessedly cool. “Her fever has broken. I hate to disappoint you, but Sarah will be on her feet by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow ain’t soon enough. Lord Aldington always says that if the servants don’t do their chores, they’re dismissed.”
“You did not dismiss the other sick servants! Sarah cannot work, not in this state. You have no right!” Miranda could not stop the storm of words she threw at Mrs. Guttridge. She yelled complaint after complaint, not caring how many meals she would miss because of it.
“As the housekeeper, I am in charge of the servants. I do as I please.”
If her uncle were here, Miranda would appeal to him. She would beg him to listen.
“All will be well, miss,” Sarah said, her hand pulling on Miranda’s. “I will go to my sister’s house until I find work.”
Mrs. Guttridge pulled her lips into a tight line. “See that ye do. I want ye gone by morning.” The housekeeper left the room, and Miranda jumped to slam it in her wake.
A flood of tears engulfed Miranda. “Oh, Sarah!” It was like saying goodbye to her father all over again.
Sarah pulled herself into a sitting position, and the small effort winded her. “You can get along now without me. Mr. Roderick will soon whisk you away from here; you will see.”
Miranda sank to her knees and laid her head on the edge of the bed. “I can see his intentions very clearly, and they are not romantically inclined. Besides, I did not even know he rescued poor little boys. I don’t deserve him.”
“Does he now? I told you he was a good man.”
“He sees me only as another person he must rescue.” Miranda sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve—she had lost all refinement. “No one has ever cared for me like you have, Sarah. No one else in this wretched world has an ounce of your kindness. Now you are to be cast out, and I shall be all alone.”
Sarah put her hand on Miranda’s head. “Do not borrow trouble. Take it one day at a time. And promise me this: promise you will keep trying.”
Miranda lifted her head so her eyes met Sarah’s. She remembered the prayer she had whispered and the promise she’d made. “I will try.”
Sarah grinned, which did little to soften her sickly pallor. “Then, you and I shall see each other again. And when we do, you will be a different person.”
“Yes,” Miranda said with all seriousness. “My clothes will be in tatters, but Mrs. Guttridge will have made a decent servant out of me.”
“There’s the spirit!” Sarah said with muted enthusiasm.
* * *
The next morning, Miranda shivered against the cool air as she said goodbye to Sarah in front of a traveling coach. “Are you sure your sister will take you?”
“I wrote to her after we moved here with my forwarding address, and she offered to have me anytime. I just couldn’t bear to leave you in such a place until you could manage on your own.”
