Page 45 of Refining the Debutante
“And why not?” Lady Callister squinted. “You have an excuse for that just like you do for your lack of ability at the pianoforte, I suppose?”
“No, it is because I am your companion. I have to earn a living.”
Lady Callister shrugged her bony shoulders. “My cook has to earn a living, and she is a mother.”
“She is?”
Lady Callister raised her gaze to the ceiling as if she were uttering a prayer for Miranda’s ignorant soul. “Sometimes you say the most ridiculous things.”
“I know servants get married,” Miranda said. “I just did not know your cook had children. Where are they?”
“They are tended during the day by the oldest. There are six in all. Overfed, the lot of them. Happy and round.”
“Well, she is a good cook.”
“I hire only the best.”
“Does that imply I am the best?” Miranda was tired of solely hearing about her faults.
“I took you on as a favor. There is quite a difference.”
“Yes.” Miranda slumped her shoulders. “I suppose there is.”
“Now, Reverend Giles is coming for dinner. Wear something plain—no jewelry. He is a pious man and very particular.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And don’t ask any of your infernal questions.”
“Like what color hair did the Virgin Mary have?” Miranda asked with a straight face.
Lady Callister bristled. “Exactly like that. And absolutely no mention of our favorite pirate story or the fact that your oral reading skills rival the actresses in London. By the way, I borrowed another book today about a ghost story set in Italy.”
“Who loaned it to you?” Miranda asked.
“I do not share my sources. You will have to find your own.”
Miranda really had to bite back her laugh this time. She would be the picture of perfection at dinner, for Lady Callister’s sake. Though, she wished Ethan was to be their guest. She had glimpsed him across the pew at church but had not spoken with him since she had arrived at Crowfield. Any hope she harbored for a renewed connection between them grew slimmer with every passing day. No doubt the perfect Miss Withers was taking advantage of every moment Miranda missed.
Chapter 19
Reverend Giles was not quitethe pious man Lady Callister had described. Old, yes, with white hair and crow eyes, but much more relaxed than he was over the pulpit. His crinkly smile reached his ears every time Lady Callister said anything. Even as trite a phrase as “Pass the salt.”
“I thought your sermon last Sunday on guile very thought-provoking,” Lady Callister said. Her eyes took on the same gleam they had when Miranda read to her... and not from the Psalm passages either.
“Yes, guile is an interesting topic, and I thoroughly enjoyed studying it. A person cannot pretend righteousness in the least degree without subjecting themselves to pride and vanity.”
Miranda’s head whipped up from her meal at the mention of vanity. Reverend Giles turned at her sudden interest in the topic of conversation.
“Miss Bartley, do you agree?” he asked.
“Oh, most definitely,” Miranda said, though she wasn’t sure if she even understood his full meaning. She had always thought vanity meant she enjoyed looking nice, not that she thought herself better than others. She might not have been capable of it before, but with her changed perspective since Gray House, she freely admitted she was no better than anyone else. Thankfully, she was currently without guile. This do-goodbusiness was quite the thing.
Reverend Giles seemed appeased and turned back to Lady Callister. “Imagine a society without guile—no envy or strife. No lying or contention.”
Well, Miranda was still guilty there. She envied Miss Withers. She had strife with Jane. She had caused problems for Ethan and his friends. While she wanted to hate him for his honesty so many months back, he was without guile.
“I believe there are good people in the world,” Miranda said, surprising herself by joining the conversation. “Lady Callister, for example.”
