Page 58 of Refining the Debutante
Reverend Giles gave a moving sermon about charity. However, as Miranda watched Ethan escort Miss Withers out of the chapel, she promptly forgot everything the reverend had said about the virtue. She eyed Miss Withers in her pink gown and azure spencer. She was likeable enough, but Miranda could not stand to see her with Ethan. Why did Lady Callister have to live in the same parish as Ethan and his family? The ball was next week, and Miranda would be forced to watch the couple dance together.
Thank goodness there was something more important at hand than nursing her pride. Lady Callister and Miranda made their way purposefully over to the reverend as the parishioners dispersed.
“How do you do, Lady Callister?” he said. “I trust you are well.”
“Better than the hands who support us,” Lady Callister answered.
Reverend Giles’s smile dropped. “I do not believe I take your meaning.”
Lady Callister was in royal form. “There are several prominent members of this community who insist this parish provide a bread allowance for the poor.”
Miranda did not think the purple coloring in the rector’s cheeks a good sign.
He cleared his throat not twice but thrice. “I do believe that would require money from the parish, and we must be careful—”
“We must be careful not to upset those who pay your salary,” Lady Callister interrupted. “Not that I think for a moment that such acharitableman such as yourself would even think about only himself profiting.”
“Never, Lady Callister. Never.”
Lady Callister gave him a sweet, endearing smile. “I knew you would see things our way. You do have such a good heart.”
Reverend Giles’s smile could be interpreted as a grimace. There was something to be said about having a rich, influential person in one’s life. Not that Miranda claimed such. No, she simply appreciated seeing power used for a good purpose. If she ever had money again, which seemed extremely unlikely, she would want to be exactly like Lady Callister.
“I don’t think he took that very well,” Miranda said once they were alone in the carriage.
“No, he did not.” Lady Callister fiddled with her shawl. “We shall have to see if he is in better spirits at the ball. There is a reason issues such as these divide the people. The question is which side does our good reverend stand on?”
Chapter 24
A country dance usually consistedof flirtatious glances and scheming matchmaking, but Miranda viewed tonight’s setting in an entirely different way. Her goals included avoiding Captain Grant, ignoring Ethan’s presence, and giving Lady Callister her complete attention. The gathering numbered about fifty people, with plenty of room to navigate around the dancers but not enough to hide.
Captain Grant caught her eye across the room where he stood by a desperate matron and her rather awkward daughter. Miranda sent him a smile of sympathy and hurried to find someone to talk to before he moved her way. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him make his excuses and retreat. Her gaze frantically darted from one person to another. Whom could she attach herself to?
Aha! Hannah. She sat conveniently alone. Miranda walked so quickly she could have been mistaken for skipping with the dancers.
“Hannah!” she said with whispered excitement. “Are you well enough to take a turn around the room with me? My request is rather immediate, if you take my meaning.”
Hannah’s features, tight with apprehension, relaxed. She stood and took Miranda’s arm.
“I have not been here for more than half an hour, and already I am a wallflower. How can I ever compete with the belles in London?” Hannah gripped Miranda’s arm fiercely as Miranda weaved her in and out of people toward an empty corner of the room.
“The secret is to remember everyone is worried, even the prettiest ones. You must believe in yourself, or no one else will take you seriously.” Miranda enjoyed giving such advice since she attributed the same tidbit to her own success—despite the fact she had left London with fond but empty memories, zero friends, and no husband. At least she could say she rarely was in want of a partner. Well, until now. She ought to take her own advice since her confidence was not what it once had been.
“Please tell me there is a code word for such a thing,” Hannah said desperately.
They paused next to a potted tree—the only sedentary object in the room besides the chair and sparse enough to hide part of a leg if necessary.
“We might need to forget the code words, Hannah. Try telling yourself the gentlemen can smell fear and you do not want to attract a predator. Relax, smile, and pretend confidence, even if you do not feel it.”
“Smile? Openly?” Hannah frowned. “But what about being demure? I dare not smile at a man. I would invite the worst sort if I acted in such a way.”
Miranda opened her mouth to argue, but Hannah had a point. She did not want her friend to attract the men Miranda often found trailing her around. Ethan, of course, had been refreshingly opposite, and his goodness made him stand out.
“A modest smile, then,” Miranda answered. This seemed to appease Hannah.
Miranda glanced around for Captain Grant’s position, and in doing so, she met Ethan’s eyes. For a moment, their gazes met and held. Her heart thumped in her chest. She heard Hannah speaking, but the words flitted around her. While he stood next to Miss Withers, it was Miranda he was staring at. Warmth filled her, and she started to smile at him, but Miss Withers said something to Ethan, and the spell broke. He turned away from Miranda.
Putting her gloved hand on the potted tree, she tried to catch her bearings. Surely Miranda had imagined the fondness in his eyes. Ethan had probably been searching for Hannah and his gaze had unintentionally fallen on her since she and Hannah stood near each other. Miranda had masterfully put him from her mind all day, and now she had to build up her resistance to him once more.
