Page 89 of Refining the Debutante
“Mr. York is your uncle’s solicitor. Darling, you might want to listen to what he has to say.”
“Miss Bartley,” Mr. York began, “I must first impart grievous news. I am sorry to inform you of the passing of your uncle, Lord Aldington, lately of Gray House.”
Her hope of her family ever reconciling left in one breath. He was gone. Truly gone. The thought devastated her. Miranda’s world tilted, and her legs buckled. Ethan wrapped his other arm around her to steady her. This could not be real. Her uncle had often had a sickly demeanor, but she’d fully believed he had much more life ahead of him—enough for her family to make amends.
“When did this happen?” Miranda asked.
Ethan squeezed her closer to him. “I was with him at his last.”
“You?” She could not believe it. “You were at Gray House?”
Mr. Roderick nodded slowly. “He made me read your letters to him over and over again. He said if I was going to be his nephew someday, it was my duty to do it.”
Astonished, Miranda shook her head.
“Your kind words brought him a great deal of comfort,” Ethan continued. “Your uncle’s dying wish was to tell his family he was sorry.”
“There was a heart at Gray House after all,” Miranda whispered almost to herself. Her eyes pressed closed, and a feeling of peace permeated through her. She had thought time had a way of stealing one’s best self, but now she knew that time was a gift and an opportunity to change. Because of this dark year, her family could finally be reconciled. Death could not undo the gift God had given them—the gift He’d given her. She would forever be grateful her uncle’s heart had softened.
Mr. York cleared his throat. “I know the news comes as quite a shock, but I have papers that must be signed. I always say there is never a good time to discuss business.”
“Yes, of course,” Miranda said softly, grateful for Ethan’s firm grip around her.
Mr. York pulled a paper from his shoulder bag. “The short news is, without an heir, your uncle signed the estate and all his entailing to your father as the next of kin.”
Miranda lifted her hand to her mouth. “My... my father?”
Mr. York nodded. “Mr. Roderick confirmed your father’s location. I was specifically instructed to find you first so that the will could be read with you and your father together. I know money cannot ease the sorrow death brings, but your uncle lived a rather sheltered life and hardly touched the family fortune. I daresay there are enough funds to pay off your father’s creditors.”
“And then there is the title,” Ethan added, his eyes dancing. He handed her a handkerchief. “Your father will inherit money and renewed respectability. Not that I make light of your loss, dearest, but it does take care of certain problems.”
Miranda dried her tears with the white cloth and tried to smile. “Forgive me. I am baffled. It is not so unusual for a family to be estranged, but I had no idea I would be so affected by his death.”
“We will throw Lord Aldington a grand funeral,” Ethan said.
“Yes,” Miranda agreed. “A wonderful idea.”
Ethan released her. “You are to stay with Lady Callister until we sort this all out. And I defy you to talk yourself out of this. My great-aunt and I have it all arranged.”
“As you command,” Miranda said softly. She felt the emptiness in her soul begin to fill once more with hope. She did not dare ask the single question burning inside her. Would this be enough to win over Ethan’s parents? She now believed Ethan would not let anything stop him from marrying her. His trip to Gray House testified of this. However, his future mattered too, as did his family relations. And once lost from Society’s favor, one could never return to one’s former glory. Miranda had learned that lesson the hard way.
Chapter 34
Ethan’s heart pounded. The anxietyof Miranda’s departure, coupled with sleepless nights, should have made this sensation impossible. But his racing heart was not from an overtired body leaping out of a carriage to keep from losing Miranda. While the timing had been miraculous, his racing heart stemmed from the anticipation of closing an ugly chapter for Miranda and, hopefully, making her forever his.
They made their way to the Marshalsea and to Mr. Bartley’s small apartment. Mr. York recounted all the details of the will to Miranda’s father. Ethan followed this by telling everyone about Lord Aldington’s final hours. Mr. Bartley collapsed into his chair, covered his face with his hands, and wept. Ethan had never seen a grown man sob like a babe before.
“My brother,” Mr. Bartley cried. “My poor, lost brother.”
They all bowed their heads and let him lament his loss. When Mr. Bartley finally came around, he looked directly at Ethan.
“We were once the closest of friends—the dearest of playmates.” Then he turned to Miranda. “He loved your mama. When she chose me, it devastated him. We were both smarting after our parents’ deaths, and he never welcomed us into his home again. He nursed his loneliness with the drink. Heaven knows I have done the same from time to time, yet I live and am free to have all the joys he did not.” He bowed his head and bawled.
Touched by the effect a man’s life had on the world, Ethan swore he would never let anything come between him and his family. Somehow, he must make his family see that he and Miranda needed each other.
He put his hand on Miranda’s shoulder. “Mr. York and I will give you both a moment and wait outside. When your father is released, he is welcome to stay at my town house until he is ready to travel to Folkestone.”
Ethan led Mr. York out to the brown Marshalsea lawn filled with patches of snow. The sun was going down on a day that would never be forgotten. Ethan shifted his feet, observing the life inside the prison around him.
