Page 5 of Refining the Debutante
Sitting very near the Honorable Ethan Roderick on the bench of his curricle, she could feel his steady breathing during the smooth stretches of road. The clouds weaved a heavy gray carpet across the sky, and a cool London breeze encircled her neck. Not even a little rain could dampen her spirits. Everything was going as planned. All the right people at Gunter’s tearoom had seen them together, though her grape molded ice had chilled her more than she cared to admit, and now they were alone. The anticipation of a declaration of love made her heart flutter.
“I told you Gunter’s was a splendid idea,” Miranda said, twirling her parasol as Berkeley Square faded behind them. “Except, not a soul complimented me on my new bonnet. I assure you, it was the finest seen today.” She wanted him to feel proud to have her by his side and had been extra particular about her wardrobe that morning. Miranda fingered the wide red ribbon tied under her chin and tilted her head in a flirtatious manner. “You do like it, don’t you? I bought it especially for this ride.”
Mr. Roderick—Ethan, as she liked to call him in her mind, which was infinitely more personal—took a cursory glance but did not smile. “It becomes you.”
There was an emptiness in his voice Miranda did not like. Surely it was from nerves and not because ofthe incidentthe night before.
“Why, thank you.” She waited for Ethan to say something more, but he did not. Sometimes he grew too grave when a matter weighed on his mind. Marriage was certainly a serious subject. Miranda attempted to speak of other pleasantries to help him relax. “What did you think of Mrs. Grantham’s card party?” She immediately regretted the question. The party had been an absolute disaster. Perhaps they needed to talk it out and be done with it. “I did my best to lighten the tone, but your friends are altogether too solemn. I don’t think anyone appreciated my efforts. I daresay Mrs. Grantham shouldn’t have invited Miss Withers and Miss Karlson. I’ve never met a more desperate pair. Truly, they were dreadful.”
Ethan cleared his throat, and his gaze remained on the road. “I thought the hostess and company exceptional.”
“I did not object to all of them, mind you.” There was no use arguing further on the subject, even if she did not like the way Miss Withers had looked at Ethan or the familiar way Ethan had spoken to the woman. It was no surprise when he refrained from responding. He didn’t like to be disagreeable. His character was impeccable. He said all the right things, wore the right clothes, and possessed the right position in Society. The only thing that was not perfect was his cravat, and likely because he could not see under his chin well enough to know when it was crooked. It brought out an adorable boyish side to him, so she did not mind.
It wasn’t just that he was tall and handsome that made her care for him, but because she trusted him. He was a good man—a noble man—exceeding all her expectations in a suitor. Her admiration for him increased with every passing day. Only—he had yet to speak with her father about an engagement. What was taking him so long?
Ethan pulled up to Miranda’s family town house. He turned to her instead of hastening to help her down, his chocolate-brown eyes capturing hers. How she loved chocolate. “Miss Bartley, I hope this is not too untoward.”
Miranda smiled boldly. She had always made it a point to be very open with Ethan. “No topic you address could offend me.” Here it was. The moment he would profess his love. Ethan’s mouth drew downward in an adorable little frown, and Miranda almost laughed at the gravity in his expression. He must be nervous indeed.
“I tell you this to spare your feelings as much as possible. Despite the expectation everyone has—that you may have—I cannot continue my attentions toward you. I intend to leave London in the morning.”
She shook her head in confusion, her golden-brown curls bouncing in front of her face. “Surely you cannot be in earnest.”
Ethan stared at her in solemn silence.
Merciful heavens. He was serious.
“Miss Bartley, we are not a good match.”
“Don’t be silly. We complement each other perfectly.”Didn’t they?She could make him smile when no one else could, and he... well, he was everything to her. Wasn’t she enough for him? She had a desirable figure, a pleasing complexion; she even had straight upper teeth!
“No,” he said. “It seemed that way in the beginning, but it can never be.”
His words were like flies buzzing in her head. They made no sense at all. “But your sister and even your mother have expressed how greatly they desire for us to wed. You said a woman like myself must’ve inspired the great poets.”
Closing his eyes, he breathed through his nose with evident frustration. “It’s a matter of principle.” Mr. Roderick seemed to regret his words—even seemed torn. With a sigh, he removed his hat and ran his hand through his thick dark hair before replacing it. “Forgive me. I thought I could... but I can’t. I hope in time you will understand why.”
Her lungs squeezed tight in her chest, strangling her. Think. She must think. Perhaps he didn’t love her after all. The thought stole away her breath. She’d never really cared what people said about her, but this... this was bigger than whispers about her outspoken manner or laughing louder than was proper. Calling things off now, when they were as good as engaged, would ruin her reputation. She had one opportunity to rectify this mess before her failings as a debutante were printed in the Society papers come morning. “I’ll never understand unless you tell me plainly.”
“As you wish.” Ethan’s chiseled jaw tightened, and his words created a coldness far more uncomfortable than the flavored ice or chilly spring weather. “I cannot marry someone so vain. Your contempt for others is shameful. You think more of your silly dresses and bonnets than you do the state of the country.”
A wave of dizziness washed over her. Miranda put her gloved hand to her head. “Perhaps a little less plainly would have been sufficient.” A gulp of air steadied her. Her dignity demanded she leave the carriage and his presence. “Very well. If you will be so good as to help me down.”
Ethan escorted her to her front door and bowed ceremoniously over her hand. His eyes lingered on hers for just a fraction of a moment. “Good day, Miss Bartley.”
Miranda wanted to show him an indifferent face, but tears blurred her vision. Good day indeed. She stuck her chin defiantly in the air and refused to answer or even look at him. She let herself inside, eager to be alone. She made it to her bedchamber before the first sob escaped. Why must she be attracted to someone so self-righteous? Of course he wanted to marry someone equal to his nature. He was kindhearted, and she was clearly shallow in comparison. She should have known better than to fall in love with such a man.
* * *
After saying goodbye to his parents and closest friends, Ethan saw no reason to delay his departure another moment. He couldn’t stay in the same place as Miranda if he had any hope of conquering his attachment to her. He would ride his horse ahead to Stonebrook Hall, his family’s country seat, and have his valet follow with his things. Ethan handed his valet a detailed list of everything he wanted packed for his trip home to Sussex.
“I wager that list is numbered in order of priority,” his sister Jane said from the doorway to his bedchamber. Her tone and expression revealed her barely restrained anger.
His town house in London was supposed to offer him privacy from his family, but his sister was forever coming to visit so she could nag and criticize him.
“What is the point of a list if not succinct?” Ethan said, refusing to be baited and drawn into another discussion about Miranda—er, Miss Bartley. He must only think of her as Miss Bartley.
Jane began unbuttoning her spencer jacket, as if she intended to stay a while. “I only worry about your propensity for order. Your life revolves around your carefully constructed plans. Finding a wife this Season was on the top of your list. I do not think it healthy for you to leave before you have accomplished such an important task.”
