Page 75 of Refining the Debutante
With a curious expression, Lady Callister came without delay, leaving Jane and Ethan in the drawing room. Once she stepped out, Miranda shut the doors. “Forgive me. It is very important, or I would not have taken you away from your guests.” Miranda handed Lady Callister the letter.
Lady Callister held it away from her eyes so she might see it better since she did not have her reading spectacles nearby. She read quietly for a moment, her mouth pinched together. “Utterly disgraceful.” She returned the letter. “We must burn it.” She crossed the corridor to a smallish library, and Miranda watched through the open door as Lady Callister tossed the letter into the fire. The flames made short work of the paper as Lady Callister returned to Miranda’s side. “Sarah will gather her things, and I will employ her. I shall ask Jane to speak to Miss Withers about this so we do not see a repeat offense from her or this Mrs. Keene.”
“I would love to have Sarah here—thank you! But Jane? Surely we can think of a different solution.” Miranda blinked her eyes rapidly. “She would not like to be asked to do a favor on my behalf.”
Lady Callister nodded. “We came to an understanding this afternoon. Have you never wondered why Jane would not say a thing against you to anyone else? Not even to her own mother? Think on that, and do not concern yourself over this letter for another moment.”
Miranda shook off her thoughts of Jane. She was more concerned than ever about Lady Callister employing her. “Surely you must see why I need to leave here.”
Lady Callister shook her head. “Promise me you will not do anything hasty. Everything will right itself soon enough.”
Miranda’s confusion heightened. “You are up to something. You had that guarded look every time you tried to keep Captain Grant away.”
Lady Callister beamed. “You are catching on. Well done.”
“Those gothic novels are a bad influence on you. I have not the faintest idea what you are thinking, but I know you are capable of imagining something terrific.”
“Not just imagine,” she whispered. “I follow through.” Lady Callister opened the door to the drawing room again.
Miranda hurried back to Sarah in the vestibule. “All is in order.” Those four words were all she managed to get out before Ethan walked out of the drawing room toward them. Her stomach flipped. Curse her weakness where this man was concerned.
“Is everything all right?”
Miranda nodded.
“I’m relieved to hear it. Lady Callister wanted to speak with Jane privately,” Ethan said, putting his hands behind his back. “She should be but a moment; then we must take our leave. Might I offer our carriage to take your maid home?”
“Thank you, no.” Miranda smiled at him, her heartbeat picking up pace. He was always so thoughtful. “Lady Callister is arranging for a carriage to be prepared for Sarah.” She turned to Sarah. “You are to gather your things and come and live here with us.”
Sarah clasped her hand. “Gladly.” She eyed first Miranda, then Ethan. “I shall wait in the garden.” She stepped outside, leaving them alone. Miranda called for a footman to ready the carriage for Sarah and then turned to face Ethan.
* * *
Ethan had been anxious to be near Miranda, especially after the hard night he had endured. He had gone to meet with Miss Withers, and it had not ended well. She had asked him directly if he still had feelings for Miranda. Ethan had not been able to deny it. He’d apologized for his weakness and offered for her with a promise to stay faithful.
Disgusted that he had toyed with her affections while being devoted to another, she’d stomped her foot and behaved in a very surprising manner. She’d agreed to marry him on the condition that Miranda would leave Lady Callister’s employ. But when something slipped about a plan to see Miranda leave London as well, Ethan refused to indulge her. They were at an impasse and had finally agreed to mutually end their courtship. Ultimately, by being honest about his true feelings, he’d ruined a chance at a decent match all for a woman he might never have. But he did not regret it.
Then Jane had given him an earful on their way to Lady Callister’s town house, burdening him with her story. Apparently, Miss Withers had made the rounds after he had left her, letting Jane know exactly how she felt about him. The two had developed quite a friendship since Miss Withers’s arrival as their neighbor, and Jane had been deeply offended by the row. Unlike when things had ended between him and Miss Bartley, Jane had chosenhisside, not her friend’s.
He was a free man, so why didn’t he feel free? He wanted to rush to Miranda and beg her to consider him again, but the letter in the tree confused him. Had it been from Captain Grant? What if he had proposed? Could Ethan endure the torture of watching them begin a life together?
Light spilled into the corridor through a window over the front door, enshrouding Miranda in a sort of halo. If it was so wrong for him to be with Miranda, why did itfeelright? A sort of thrill stole through him. The memories of Miranda had been working in his heart, trying to speak to him, to explain what his mind couldn’t understand. Even if he could not see a way to make things work between them, it did not mean it was impossible. If it was right, they would find a way.
They could start over.
But first, he had to know if she would even give him a chance. He needed to know if she was still angry with him for his secrets and if she loved Captain Grant. A memory came to his mind, giving him an idea of a way to test her. He set his jaw, determined to breach her defenses.
“Do you remember the second time we met?” Just thinking about it gave him courage to step closer to her.
She didn’t look at him, but a glimmer of recognition touched her face. Her head bent his way, and she adopted a bland expression. “Not very well, no.”
Why wasn’t she smiling? She must still hate him. “It was a memorable moment.Ihave not forgotten it.”
Her eyes took on a challenging glint when she met his gaze head-on. “I haven’t the slightest notion what you could be talking about.”
Now she was practically goading him. She was too serious to be the Miranda he knew. He stepped closer to her until he was an arm’s length away. “I had hoped to see you again after our time together at the modiste’s shop, but this meeting was unexpected. I can still vividly recall the rather high-pitched opera singer at the musicale.” He could see her demeanor cracking. “I fled the room only to find you dancing around the corridor.”
“I wasn’t dancing!” She folded her arms across her chest. “Why would I be dancing in the corridor, where anyone could happen upon me?”
