Page 51 of Refining the Debutante
Lady Callister whipped her needles around as she thought. “I do not see why the answer to that cannot be the same. Take Mr. Roderick, for example. Miss Withers recognizes his desire to help others, and she has matched him with her generosity.”
Miranda’s eyebrows slung together. “She has him figured out exactly.”
“Has she?” Lady Callister asked. “Because needs are ongoing. She must continue to assess and meet those needs, or Mr. Roderick will lose interest. Love must be constantly nurtured.”
“Whether Miss Withers is capable of keeping his attention or not, Mr. Roderick is not so very fickle. I believe he will be loyal to the one he chooses. He is unfailingly so toward his family.” She looked down at her hands. He would not change his mind about someone who was right for him.
“Indeed, he is a good man, but he is still a man. None of us are perfect.” Lady Callister smoothed out a row of completed stitches.
“He is close,” Miranda admitted. Miss Withers was exactly that in a woman’s form. They were disgustingly perfect for each other. Captain Grant should be more her taste—flirtatious but sincere. Perhaps they should discuss something else. “Tell me about the suitors you turned down.”
“Ah yes. One of them was the son of a duke.”
Miranda listened, but her mind kept reviewing their previous conversation. What needs did Ethan have? How would things have been different between them had she asked herself this question sooner?
* * *
Captain Grant led Miranda through the vestibule of his house with a sort of nervous excitement. “It’s a small but stately house. There are eight bedrooms upstairs.” He pointed up the narrow staircase. “However, I would like to redecorate the downstairs first. The dining room is over here”—he pointed to the right—“and a single sitting room just beyond.” Then he pointed to the left. “Behind the staircase is a shared study and library.”
The high ceilings and large entryway encouraged an open feeling Miranda rather liked. Captain Grant motioned them into the drawing room, and Miranda followed Lady Callister. He beckoned her toward a sampler of fabrics, and she picked it up and sorted through it.
“I am completely useless when it comes to decor,” Captain Grant said, flashing his crooked smile. “Mauve or rose or red? They all look the same. And do I pair it with gold or crème or celestial blue? I am depending upon your kindness to guide me.”
Lady Callister eyed her surroundings critically and placed herself in a chair by the fireplace. A book sat on the side table next to it, and she picked it up and began to thumb through it. Once Miranda was assured Lady Callister was comfortable, she turned back to Captain Grant. “Well, what color do you like best?”
“Black.”
Miranda’s brow lifted, and they both laughed. She had never decorated a room before, but she knew a thing or two about the popular colors and styles. Black was nowhere on the list. “You might need my help more than I thought. Is there a color on this swatch that stands out to you?”
Captain Grant stepped closer to her to study the fabrics. “The indigo.”
Miranda stepped back a few inches, not exactly repelled by his nearness but not wanting to encourage anything just yet. “Indigo is an excellent choice. Now we must choose two accent colors.”
“Two?” Captain Grant asked, stepping close once more. “This might take some time for me to decide.”
“You have an hour,” Lady Callister said, not even looking their way. “Try to be efficient.”
Captain Grant motioned for Miranda to sit on a settee just large enough for the two of them. The frame and arms were gilded and the upholstery done in a rich burgundy.
“This is a lovely piece of furniture,” Miranda said, wondering if she had ever commented on such a thing before.
“Thank you. It was my mother’s.”
“Was?” Miranda asked, wondering if his mother had passed away.
“Yes, I bought it for her, but she insisted it is too fine a piece for her cottage.”
“Oh,” Miranda said. She had never thought about Captain Grant’s connections. His circumstances must have been drastically reduced prior to his time in the navy, and his house was likely bought from his prize money. She doubted Jane knew. Not that it mattered anymore. She was beginning to resign herself that this might be her future.
“Well, the settee is lovely,” she said. “You should decorate the room around this piece.”
“I am pleased you like it.” Captain Grant held up the indigo against the red. “Not too awful, I daresay. Perhaps I should save the indigo for my bedroom.”
“An excellent idea.”
“Wonderful. I will do exactly that.” Captain Grant smiled and appraised her face.
She dipped her chin to avoid the intenseness of his gaze. “Does your family live close? I imagine your mother would like to assist you in decorating.”
