Page 88 of Refining the Debutante
“Ethan?!”
Sarah nodded.
Miranda pinned her back to the seat. “No. I can’t face him. I just can’t.” She thought quickly. Her eyes fell on their travel bags at their feet, and an idea launched in her mind. “Listen carefully, Sarah. You must get out and tell him that you left me somewhere.”
“Miss?”
“Please! Tell the coachman to ride on. And I will need to borrow your thick wool shawl.” She unpinned her cloak. “Here, take this instead.”
Sarah’s face contorted, showing several fleeting emotions. “Oh, very well.” They traded outerwear, and Sarah let herself out. The coach door closed before Miranda could see anything.
Not wasting a moment, Miranda opened her valise, scanning the contents. She put on Lady Callister’s perched spectacles and put the gothic novel on her lap. It wasn’t enough. She pulled open Sarah’s travel bag, and a sly grin stole across her face.Perfect!Miranda put the spare mobcap over her head, combing her fingers through her loose curls around her face and ratting her hair up toward her scalp. It was all precautionary in case the coach didn’t move fast enough. Why wasn’t it leaving?
She heard Ethan’s voice before she saw him. It was muffled but growing louder. He was coming! She knew she could not escape him now. Turning away from the door, she wrapped the shawl high around her neck and chin and held the book in front of her face. Her heart raced like that of a helpless newborn kitten.
The coach door swung open, and Ethan poked his head inside. “Oh, pardon me, miss. I thought—”
Miranda didn’t turn to acknowledge him.
“Why, you little rascal!”
Miranda furrowed her brow behind her book, not expecting her last moment with Ethan to begin with him calling her names. “Rascal?” she said in her best peasant’s accent. She turned her body slightly toward him and slowly lowered the book so her bespectacled eyes could be seen over the brim. “Sir?”
Ethan looked haggard and irritated, but upon meeting her gaze, his features softened. Had she fooled him? There was no way she could refuse him should he touch her or beg her to stay with him. This was for his own good!
“Forgive me. I thought a lady was in here. Never have I seen such fine gloves.”
Miranda gulped. She’d forgotten to remove her gloves. “Thank ye, sir.”
“Nor heard such a lovely voice.”
Miranda nearly swallowed her tongue.
He climbed inside and took a seat very near her. “Nor seen such an exquisite pair of eyes.”
She was finished. She had not fooled him half-starved and covered in mud. Why had she thought she could she deceive him like this?
Pushing her book down to her lap, Ethan captured her hands in one of his. Then with the other, he removed the spectacles from her face. “I know we are strangers, but I am overcome by your beauty.”
Miranda’s heart was in her throat, and she could not muster a false accent. “Once again, you have failed to compliment my hair.”
“You’re right,” Ethan said. He reached up and tugged the mobcap off her hair, smoothing the wayward curls with his hands. “There. Now I can bring myself to compliment it.”
Smiling regretfully, she said, “I am sorry I had to say goodbye in a note.”
“Never mind that, my love.” His expression was one of weary relief.
How she ached to hear him call her his love for the rest of her days. His words and his nearness tortured her. They couldn’t be together. She cleared her throat, hoping to dislodge the emotion. “Before you leave, I want to give you some money. I’ve been saving for some time, and I want it to help a poor family in Sussex. When you return to help the farmers, please take it with you.”
Ethan smiled. “It is admirable you are thinking of those in need at a time like this, but you can give them the money yourself. I’m not going anywhere—not without you. All is going to right itself now. I don’t want you to worry or be afraid for our future. But before I get ahead of myself, there is someone outside I must introduce you to.” Ethan released her and climbed out of the carriage.
Confused whether to hope or feel dismayed, Miranda smoothed her hair once more and accepted his extended hand. Once her foot hit solid ground, Ethan pulled her to him in one quick tug. Still hidden from view of the others behind the carriage door, his lips grazed hers, and her breath caught.
“Ethan, you mustn’t!” she whispered fiercely, pushing him back. She wanted to yell and cry and sing with all the emotions his simple kiss caused.
“Oh, but I must,” he said, ignoring that half-hearted complaint on her lips. He kissed her again, lingering this time. When he released her, she was breathless. “Come.” He tucked her under his arm and drew her away from the protection of the carriage door toward a strange man standing outside Ethan’s carriage. “This is Mr. York.” Ethan motioned to the tall, willowy gentleman she did not recognize. “He arrived in Town just this morning.”
Mr. York removed his hat and bowed to Miranda. She turned to Ethan, curious as to the need for an introduction.
