Page 4 of Refining the Debutante
“Miss Withers, Miss Karlson, might I introduce Miss Bartley?”
“Please, join us,” Miss Withers said, pointing to the open chairs. “We aren’t playing a game, but we wouldn’t mind more company.”
Ethan pulled out a chair for Miranda, and they both sat. “Miss Withers and her family have recently settled near Stonebrook Hall, my family estate.” Miss Withers’s beauty nearly rivaled Miranda’s, but her russet curls were dressed more conservatively, as was her gown.
“Oh?” Miranda’s eyes darted from him to Miss Withers. “Have you known each other long?”
“No,” Miss Withers answered, “but as a new neighbor, I hope to deepen my acquaintance with the family.” She turned her gracious smile on him.
Miranda lifted her brows. “I see.” She tucked her arm possessively under Ethan’s. “Perhaps you hope to know Mr. Roderick’ssisterJane better. I must warn you, living in the same part of the country does not mean you are equal in Society. Jane is a very fine lady—my dearest friend.”
Miss Withers wrinkled her nose. “I see.”
Miranda turned her gaze to Miss Karlson. “And do you also want to endear yourself to Mr. Roderick’s family?”
Miss Karlson paled. “I... ah...”
Ethan didn’t understand what was happening. Miranda’s words seemed to hold a barely veiled threat. It was time to withdraw from this conversation too. “I see Mrs. Jones has arrived. She is a widow and an old friend. I should greet her. Will you join me, Miss Bartley?”
“I would love to meet Mrs. Jones.” Miranda gave him a smile to make his knees quake.
He couldn’t stay frustrated with her for long. He took her hand and assisted her from her seat. Before he stepped away, he tipped his head to Miss Karlson and then Miss Withers. “I will look forward to seeing more of you at Stonebrook. You are most welcome.”
Miss Withers’s smile blossomed, and Ethan hoped he had repaired any offense. He directed Miranda over to where Mrs. Jones sat, her eyes glossed over as the party happened around her.
“Mrs. Jones, I am pleased to see you tonight.”
Mrs. Jones blinked as if surprised to be addressed. “Ah, Mr. Roderick. I thank you for sending your carriage for me.”
“You need to leave your house more often.” Ethan directed Miranda to a sofa across from the older woman. “How is your health?”
Her shoddy dress glared in his eyes compared to Miranda’s finery, and he hoped Miranda would not comment on it—she could be unpredictable in her naivety.
“My health is very poor indeed. I suffer greatly,” Mrs. Jones replied. “My back aches, my feet tingle, my heart hiccups, and my head throbs. The doctors don’t know what to make of it. They have tried all the regular medicines, and you know, I think they have given up on me. You will speak to them, won’t you? If my husband were still alive, he would not let them disregard my pains.”
“Of course. I am always glad to help when I can.”
“You are the only one. Why, just the other day, I had such a festering sore on my side, and my doctor couldn’t even see it. Three times I called him back, and at the last, he threw up his hands and told me to find someone else. I daresay the physicians in London are the most uneducated in all the world.” Mrs. Jones glanced at Miranda. “I’m sorry, who is this?”
“Forgive me. This is Miss Bartley.”
“No, you must both forgive me,” Miranda said with a lighthearted air. “I see my father motioning for me to join him. Please, carry on without me.” She brushed Ethan with her hand as she stood.
Disappointment sank deep into his gut.
“Oh, Mrs. Jones,” Miranda said, turning to face his friend. He held his breath until she spoke. “Have you tried pink?”
“Pink?”
“Yes, I believe it is your color. You have beautiful rosy tones to your cheeks. A pink dress will not cure your ailments, but it might do just the trick in lifting your spirits.”
Mrs. Jones put her hand to her chest. “How thoughtful! I will try it.”
Ethan groaned inwardly. He could not predict Miranda at all tonight. He wanted to focus on the smile she had brought to Mrs. Jones’s lips, but her earlier comments had ruffled him. His gaze followed her as she approached her father, who lovingly put his arm around her small shoulders and introduced her to an older gentleman at his side. She was special, to be sure, but her naivety worried him. Could such a strong-willed woman fit into his world? Ethan caught sight of Miss Withers—calm, soft-spoken, an advocate for underprivileged women. It was forward-thinking, perhaps, but part of him wanted the woman he married to support him in his dreams. What if he had grown attached to the wrong woman? His heart told him one thing, but his head said differently.
Chapter 2
A proposal of marriage wasthe single most desirable goal for a young lady of good social standing.Thiswas Miranda’s moment.
