Page 31 of Refining the Debutante
Ethan rubbed his chin. He seemed to be looking everywhere but her. He sighed and finally met her gaze. “Do you not know me well enough by now?” His voice sobered. “I find satisfaction in helping people.”
Moisture gathered in her eyes, but she blinked it away. What choice did she have? She knew relying on Ethan was the quickest means of escaping Gray House. She took a fortifying breath and nodded.
“Yes?” Ethan asked.
“Yes,” Miranda said. “I will come for a visit.”
Ethan clapped his hands together. “Let’s not waste another moment. I will send you in my carriage to retrieve your trunks. My footmen are at your disposal. I will ride ahead to prepare my sisters and my housekeeper.”
Miranda laughed in disbelief. “Very well.” How very like him to have a plan all set to execute.
The carriage ride back to Gray House was faster than Miranda would have liked. She relished the bumpy feel of the conveyance. It had been too long since she had enjoyed such a privilege. Unfortunately, there had not been ample time to formulate her own plan by the time she arrived.
The butler opened the front door with raised brows. Ethan’s footmen followed her upstairs, and within minutes, her things were being carried back down.
“What on earth do ye think yer doing?” Mrs. Guttridge bellowed down the corridor.
Miranda put her hand against the wall to steady her trembling legs. After a quick breath, she did her best to shake off her fear and rally her courage. “I have been invited to visit Mr. Roderick’s sister and her family.”
Mrs. Guttridge howled, and for a moment, Miranda thought she might be hurt—or mad. But after a few knee slaps, Miranda ascertained the woman was laughing. “A friendly visit? There’s only one reason a man would want the likes of ye to stay with him, and it has nothin’ to do with meetin’ a sister or a mother. Ye ain’t smart enough to know Satan’s hand when his fiery fingers are wrapped around ye. Well, no virtueless woman will be allowed back here, and I can promise ye that! Just wait until yer uncle hears about this.”
Miranda rubbed her hands over her arms to warm them. “You can condemn me all you want, but God is my judge, not you.” Then she fled out the door. Threats chased her all the way to the carriage.
In the quiet safety of the conveyance, Miranda knew she was one step closer to freedom. She had not told Ethan about Sarah’s departure, but she was not afraid of the consequences of traveling alone. Not when she was finally free. Pulling a blanket folded on the floor of the carriage up over her lap, she was surprised to find a hot brick at her feet. She was indebted to Ethan for all of this. He would ride his horse to Stonebrook, and then they would be together. A mixture of hope and hurt whirled inside of her. Could she make him love her again?
Out her window, Folkestone slowly passed farther from view. Her hands still shook from her encounter with Mrs. Guttridge, and she was reminded that there were some things she could not run from. She must keep her head. Ethan had rejected her even before her father’s disgrace, after all. He was unlikely to change his mind. She would show a repentant heart and her gratitude for his invitation to visit. His kindness would have to be enough for her.
Chapter 14
“You cannot really think wewould letherstay with us,” Jane said rather forcefully.
“You once begged me to marry her, and now you do not even want her in your home?” Ethan’s eyes widened as he stared at her from behind his father’s desk. Surely his sister was jesting. “Come now, you will warm to the idea. She arrives this afternoon in our carriage, and I expect you to welcome her.”
“What would people think if they knew we still associated with her after her father’s disgrace? What would they say about us?”
Ethan’s fingers stilled on the ledger on the desk, and he dropped his head. She was right, and it gnawed at him. People would inevitably talk. All his life he’d avoided unnecessary attention, but he had willingly brought this to his doorstep. But he could not argue his conviction. Even if he didn’t harbor a measure of guilt, rescuing Miranda was the right thing to do. Some things in life were worth a personal sacrifice, and he had to believe this was one of them.
“It doesn’t matter,” he finally said.
“Really, Ethan.” Jane narrowed her eyes, in true Jane form, and folded her arms across her chest. “You cannot be simple enough to pretend otherwise.”
“I do not pretend. There will no doubt be whispers from anyone who is aware of the Bartley family’s situation. But not from us. Would you give up a dear friendship so quickly?”
“I did not give it up.” Jane huffed. “She changed into... into... someone different.”
“Someone in need of our help?” This was the argument he’d used to win the war waging inside himself. He tapped a pen against the desk while he waited for her response.
“Yes, and I cannot respect someone who needs my help. I pity them, yes, but I could never attach myself to them.”
Ethan tilted his head and pinned Jane with his stare. “What if the tables were turned?”
“I would die or hide myself. I would never come crawling back to Society and invite their scorn.”
He had not counted on his sister acting like a warrior guarding her castle. “Beware of pride, Jane. It is an invitation to be humbled.”
“Ha!” Jane turned to the window and pushed the curtains aside. “Are you so very perfect? The man who could not marry her because she was beneath his personal ideals? Who was judgmental then?”
Ethan remained silent as the point hit its mark. She was right. He had dropped Miranda in a most ungentlemanly manner. He had trifled with her affections, leading her to believe they would marry, then left her to resurrect her own reputation. The truth made him uncomfortable, but this was his way of clearing his conscience and repairing a wrong. He cleared his throat and pushed back his guilty thoughts. “I am not perfect, but I will not turn my back on someone I can help. Miranda needs us. She needs you. She will never make it in this world without our support.”
