Chapter Eight
After the newbaronet had left, Miranda sat for a few moments in silence, her brow furrowed in thought. For some reason she was feeling more than a little flustered, and she wasn’t sure why. Surely it could not be because of his flattery, or because she’d noted how handsome he was? What nonsense. She’d met handsome young men before and none had exerted this effect on her. And besides, he was far too young to warrant her interest. But, on the other hand, he had disclosed that he was single, and she did have three daughters, at least one of whom was now of marriageable age. Three daughters and a problem with no dowries for any of them. She began to see some useful possibilities lying ahead.
She was not allowed to sit in peace on her own for long though. The girls must have heard the front door open, or spied on him as he departed, because the kitchen door now flew open with something approaching violence and all three of them came tumbling into the parlor like a bunch of unruly puppies. As if to reinforce this impression, all six dogs came bouncing in with them, even old Tippo.
Miranda sighed. When did her girls ever come through a door in anything approaching a ladylike fashion? Not even Lissy, this time, who should know better at her age. An age at which she needed to be groomed to at least appear to be the sort of young lady in whom a handsome young baronet might be persuaded to show an interest. Unfortunately, looking at Lissy only made Miranda more aware of herfailings as a mother to produce demure, marriageable girls instead of a horde of tomboys.
The girls threw themselves down on the rug in front of the fire with the dogs, only reinforcing her conviction that no one in their right mind would want to marry any of them, and surrounded her chair, thus preventing any escape. “Well?” Lissy said. “What is he like?” She tossed a disparaging glance at Megs. “We could get nothing out of Megs but the fact that he has a bad leg and told her he likes horses. Most unsatisfactory.”
Of course. Questions like that would have been at the forefront of her youngest daughter’s mind. When were horses not?
“And that I can call him Harry,” Megs put in. “And that we’re friends now I’m no longer going to shoot him.” She frowned. “For alas, shooting wouldn’t work as it would be one of his sister’s children who would then get our house and money, not us. I know because I asked him.”
Miranda had to gasp at this. “Megs! You didn’t!”
Megs nodded. “I had to check.”
“Incorrigible child!”
Mims scowled at her unrepentant sister. “You do know he was only being condescending and humoring you, don’t you? When he said you were friends. He didn’t mean any of that.”
Megs’ expression suggested she was ready to do battle over this insult.
Exasperated, Miranda held up an admonishing hand. “Do stop talking all at once for a moment and listen to what I have to say.”
They fell silent, but it was obvious from their expressions that they didn’t want to. If only she’d been stricter with them, but she’d never had the heart to be, and Geoffrey had not been the kind of father who’d taken much interest in his children as long as they didn’t bother him.
She gathered her thoughts. “I must say that I’m pleasantlysurprised. Sir Henry seems a nice polite young man.”
“Harry,” Megs said, flashing a smug smile at her sisters.
Lissy poked her. “Do be quiet and listen to Mama.”
Miranda nodded. “Thank you, Lissy. That will do. Now, you will be pleased to hear that I’ve discovered something interesting. Sir Henry…” She caught Megs’ expression. “Cousin Harry, in that case, is unmarried.”
“I knew that already,” Megs said, and received another poke in the ribs for her trouble.
“Ssshh!” Mims hissed.
“So?” Lissy said.
Mims bounced up and down in a further display of inappropriate and far too juvenile behavior for a young lady of sixteen. “That means he needs a wife, silly.”
“Exactly,” Miranda said. “And I have a daughter of marriageable age.”
“You do?” Lissy said, clearly not realizing she was the one being spoken of.
Miranda nodded, fixing her gaze on her oldest child.
Mims burst out laughing. “You, of course, you ninny. Mama means you.”
Lissy’s mouth fell open. “Me? But I don’t want to get married.” Her eyes flicked from side to side furtively, as though seeking a means of rapid escape. “And besides, I’m not even old enough. I’m only just eighteen.”
Miranda shook her head with determination. Now she’d thought of this, she didn’t want obstacles thrown in the way. “Nonsense. You’re the same age as I was when I married your dear papa.”
The girls exchanged glances.
Megs frowned, her lower lip beginning to jut. “I don’t think Lissy should marry Harry.”
