Page 38 of Refining the Debutante
“Might I introduce Captain Grant to you? He recently bought an estate in the neighborhood and is renovating the place.” The man standing next to Ethan was of similar height, with hair streaked blond from the sun, and was dressed in a blue uniform with gold epaulettes on each shoulder. “Captain, this is Miss Bartley, a houseguest of ours.”
Miranda extended her gloved hand, and Captain Grant, with rigid posture, bowed over it. “You did not mention you were entertaining such a lovely guest tonight,” he said to Ethan.
Miranda blushed. It had been too long since someone had paid her a compliment. Captain Grant’s smile was a little crooked, but his features were pleasant.
She felt someone else’s eyes on her, and she glanced over to see Jane scowling. Ah. Jane liked the captain. Jane’s mother, Lady Gibson, insisted on a family pedigree that could be found in Debrett’s book and likely would not approve of such a match. Even if Miranda stepped aside, Jane would not so easily be won over. Perhaps if Miranda did more than just remove herself from the equation.
“You are too kind, Captain. I am not used to being praised by someone in uniform. Though, I admit I am easily impressed by men who give their lives to the service of their country.”
Ethan eyed her, and Miranda hesitated. She was not flirting—not exactly. He would understand her motives later. She smiled coyly at the captain.
He chuckled modestly. “It is an honor to be a soldier, though it is a hard path to walk.”
“Walk?” Miranda laughed lightly. “Who said anything about walking? It is dancing we need you for tonight.”
“And that I will gladly endure, if you will partner me.”
Jane glared daggers her way, but Miranda ignored her and let Captain Grant lead her to where a few others danced.
The small line of couples was perfect for conversation. “You are so young to be a captain,” Miranda said, assessing the sun lines on a face absent of any wrinkles. He could be no older than thirty.
Captain Grant shrugged. “When you cannot inherit, you must secure your own living. I was fortunate enough to have an uncle buy my post. I like to think I have earned it since that time, but all I can truly claim is to have survived the title where others have not.”
“Napoleon wreaked havoc on too many lives.” When the words were out, she was struck by the reality of them. Shame filled her at the thought of dismissing all the stories told about the war—pretending as if it never existed so she could keep up her frivolous lifestyle. She knew about suffering now and would not make that mistake again.
“That he did.” Captain Grant nodded, and a shadow cast over his eyes.
“Which is why you must not let him steal your spirit along with the rest of his acquisitions,” Miranda said rather plainly. “I have the perfect solution.”
“Do you?”
“Why yes.” And just like that, a hint of light returned. Perhaps helping people was her true talent. “As you will soon learn from our host, I know the secrets of Society.”
“Mr. Roderick never told me,” Captain Grant said, amused. “Please, enlighten me.”
Miranda laughed, despite her attempt to hold a straight face. “Happiness comes in the form of a treasured relationship.” This was no lie. It was exactly what Miranda herself was looking for. She leaned forward and conspiratorially whispered, “We must find you a wife.”
Captain Grant put his head back and laughed. The sound boomed from his mouth and carried above the music. Every head in the room turned to stare at them.
Miranda used to love when this happened. Tonight was a different matter. She bit back her smile, but it was too late. The song ended before she could finish explaining her plan.
Captain Grant led her straight back to Mr. Roderick. “Where have you been hiding Miss Bartley? She is full of life and yet appreciates the more delicate aspects many of our friends turn up their noses at.” He gave Miranda a warm look.
She swallowed uncomfortably. Ethan narrowed his eyes, and his deep frown reminded her of the day he’d cried off their almost-engagement. He only thought her selfish. His disappointment in her stung. How could she explain that she’d meant to bring Jane into the conversation? She certainly could not beg another dance with the captain.
She had to do something though. She turned to Captain Grant. “I am none of those things,” she said, her voice heavy with remorse. “Mr. Roderick’s sister—now, there is a fine woman. She is the one who taught me to appreciate the things in life you mentioned.” She lowered her gaze. Lying in order to help someone was not a sin to Ethan, surely. If only talking of snails could help her now.
“Humble too,” Captain Grant said, flashing her his adorable crooked smile. No wonder Jane liked him. “Might I call on you tomorrow, Miss Bartley?”
Miranda lifted the fan that dangled from her wrist and tapped it against her left cheek to signify no.
Ethan caught the message but nodded anyway to the captain. Wasn’t Ethan supposed to be her friend now? He had rescued her, but apparently Ethan was more loyal to the captain.
“I will look forward to it,” Miranda said. She would, too, and that fact did not ease her conscience one bit.
She fell into her bed that night exhausted and plagued by her shortcomings. She had managed to embarrass herself in front of Miss Withers and might not have taught anything of real value to Hannah. She’d butchered any chances Jane had with Captain Grant and even disappointed Ethan. She would keep trying as Sarah had suggested. Effort had to be good for something. Though, at this point, she wasn’t sure of anything. She missed Sarah fiercely and yearned to feel loved again.
Chapter 17
