Page 42 of Refining the Debutante
“Essential,” Lady Callister said emphatically.
Miranda melted back into the stiff embroidered chair where she was assigned to sit while in the morning room. It allowed her to be close enough for Lady Callister to peer at her. The woman was likely critiquing every flaw. “Might I get a shawl for you?”
“Why would I want a shawl? It’s stifling in here. You can open a window.”
Miranda stood and made a face as soon as she turned away. She had been desperate to make an escape, but the shawl idea had not been brilliant enough.
After opening the window, Miranda asked, “Shall I ring for tea?”
Lady Callister glared. “You know perfectly well the hour marks the time you must practice your music.”
Miranda huffed and dragged herself to the piano. She stretched her fingers like an animal with claws trying to keep from attacking its prey until exactly the right moment. She must restrain her thoughts. Winning over Ethan and staying away from Gray House were motivation enough.
Over her painful notes, Lady Callister kept on a running monologue. Not that Miranda could catch every word even if she wanted to, which she didn’t.
“Such a handsome man... might be interested in a rich widow... have to bide our time... not getting any younger.”
Miranda’s hands froze on the keys. Finally, a conversation she wanted to participate in.
“Keep playing,” Lady Callister said sharply. “You are worse than I thought.”
Miranda sighed and plunked away, one ugly note at a time. When her practicing mercifully ended, she moved to her designated chair beside her employer. As soon as she sat down, a question nagged at her.
“Lady Callister,” Miranda began, picking at an invisible thread on her chair.
“You might as well have it out. No use picking apart my furniture.”
“It’s only that... well... are you aware of my background?” Miranda never stumbled over her words. She always said plainly what she had to say. What was wrong with her?
Lady Callister’s frown lines smoothed, and a barely discernible smile touched her lips. “Mr. Roderick presented your case to me in a complete and honest fashion. I am aware of your father.”
Miranda’s cheeks burned with shame. She thought she had accepted her fate, but having someone so far above her acknowledge her family’s folly did not sit well. “Then, truly, you have my gratitude for taking me in.”
Something akin to pity crossed Lady Callister’s face. Miranda deflated beneath her gaze. Not long ago, she had only received looks of admiration or jealousy. Time had a way of stealing one’s best self.
* * *
Ethan arranged for Captain Grant to join him for a morning hunt for waterfowl. Their tall boots sloshed in the wet grass as they each restrained a German shorthaired pointer on a leash. They reached their destination—an undisturbed pond—and set their guns down so they might untie the dogs.
“Nice spot, this one,” Captain Grant said.
“I like it.” Ethan picked his gun back up. The two of them walked side by side as the dogs raced forward and dove into the water.
“It’s almost as pretty as a certain debutante you introduced me to at your dinner party,” Captain Grant said.
Ethan’s jaw clenched just as a few ducks flew into the air. Both he and the captain knocked off a shot. Their second round rewarded Captain Grant with a kill, and Ethan sighed, slapping the captain on the back. “Good aim.”
“Thank you. Yours, on the other hand...”
Ethan laughed off his poor performance. It was not his aim but his mind he was worried about. How was it possible that the mention of Miranda Bartley still drove him to distraction? He knew the captain had paid a call on Miss Bartley before she had left Stonebrook to stay with Lady Callister. It was none of his business how the call had gone, but it was infuriating not knowing what had transpired.
After an hour, the two filled their game bags and started making their way back to the horses.
“How are you settling in at Laurel Manor?” Ethan asked.
“It’s a glorious heap of emptiness,” Captain Grant replied. “I want my mother and sisters to come live with me, but my mother insists she is perfectly comfortable where she is. The only other solution is to marry.”
Ethan adjusted the bag on his shoulder and tried to smother a sudden wave of disgust. He could guess who the captain had in mind for a suitable marital prospect, but Ethan couldn’t countenance the idea. He had done his best to include this newcomer in their community’s social calendar, but he was beginning to regret it.
