Chapter Sixteen
To Miranda’s relief,Friday took a long time to come around, probably because the autumn rain, now it had started, settled in with a vengeance and she and the girls were forced to stay indoors. Every day it beat down on the Northamptonshire countryside, turning the fields to mud and filling the roadside ditches with fast-flowing brown water. From many shades of green beneath a fine blue sky, the landscape turned to a monotone gray that matched her spirits, for she was not in the least looking forward to having to go to Thornby Grange for dinner, even though Harry would be escorting her and Lissy.
She was also unaccountably depressed that the weather seemed determined to prevent her from further rides out with Harry to visit the estate tenants, even though she knew she should not be. Despite the growing attraction she felt for him, in his absence she’d managed to convince herself his only attraction was that he would make an excellent son-in-law. She’d dismissed her own perplexing feelings as merely being satisfaction that he should turn out to be so amenable and kind, and therefore suitable for an innocent girl of just eighteen. In fact, his continued non-appearance only served to cement this conclusion in her head. Every time his handsome, if thin, face pushed its way into her thoughts, she managed, with an almost Herculean effort, to picture him only as Lissy’s husband. It took some doing, but she did it.
Dick, resembling something of a drowned rat, arrived on the Friday of the dinner engagement to inform her and Lissy that Sir Henry would be bringing the carriage to collect them at half past five, having ascertained that it was a bare half hour to Thornby.
Once their young helper had departed towards the stables to work in the dry, the girls crowded round her. Mims and Megs were full of their usual enthusiasm, although Miranda couldn’t help but notice Lissy had a suspiciously thoughtful expression on her face that she’d long ago learnt to mistrust. However, the subject of what she and Lissy were to wear could not be ignored, as finery, even to equestrienne ladies like her two older daughters, was a matter of great importance. Megs, as yet, didn’t care one whit what she looked like.
“Thank goodness you’re not still having to wear that dull black bombazine,” Mims declared. “It would be so awful to be invited to dinner, even if it is only with Sir Julian, and to have to wear the dreadful gown you had made after Papa died. I’m so glad you decided we only have to wear black armbands now.”
Megs nodded with vigor, seeming keen, despite her own indifference to nice clothes, to join in with her sisters. “Yes. Black would be dire. Unless, of course, we were talking about Banshee, who is quite the most perfect black pony with her lovely white blaze down her nose. Personally, I think you should wear your lovely pink gown. The one with little roses embroidered on the bodice. That one’s my favorite ofallyour gowns.”
Which was odd, as Megs had never before expressed much interest in what any of them wore if it were not for riding a horse. For a fleeting moment Miranda had to wonder at all this enthusiasm from even her youngest daughter as to what she should wear to visit a man she knew none of them liked.
Mims shook her head. “No. The sapphire blue one. It shows Mama’s eyes to such effect.” She beamed at Miranda. “And you do have the most lovely eyes, Mama.”
Again, this was unusual specificity. As though all three of them had a hidden agenda in making sure she looked her best. Miranda glanced at Lissy, who was gazing out of the window at the rain with a small frown on her brow. “What do you think, Lissy?”
Lissy jumped and nearly dropped the book she’d been holding. “Me? What? Oh, your gown.” She turned away from the window. “I think you should wear the…” She paused, one finger on her chin. “The pale blue with the sarsenet overskirt. That one’smyfavorite. More subtle than the sapphire blue and does just as good a job at showing the color of your eyes.”
When had any of them ever wanted the blue of her eyes to be set off by her gown? A mystery. Anyone would think they were determined to make her attractive to Sir Julian. Not something she fancied being at all. Maybe she should get that black bombazine out of mothballs instead. Only the fact that she’d hated every moment she’d had to wear it prevented her from doing so.
Megs pulled a face at Lissy. “I suppose you’re right, as you always are.” She sighed. “But what are you going to wear?” She giggled. “I know. One of the old oat sacks in the barn.”
“Better make it two or she’ll be indecently showing everyone her legs,” Mims said, ducking as Lissy threw the book she’d been holding at her. It hit the mantlepiece, which was fortuitously empty of ornaments, and nearly fell into the fire, from which Mims hurriedly rescued it.
To Miranda’s surprise, Lissy, who was the fondest of all of them of wearing a pretty gown and looking her best, shrugged. “I’ll see what Betsey gets out for me. I don’t really care what I’m to wear. After all, there’ll be no one to see me but that horrible, pop-eyed Sir Julian.” She wrinkled her nose as though she’d sniffed a bad smell. “And I certainly don’t wanthimtaking a fancy to me.”
This horrible thought hadn’t occurred to Miranda. She bit her lip, suddenly worried. “And your Cousin Harry,” she said in a hurry. “Youmust look your best for him.” But perhaps she shouldn’t, just in case Sir Julian got the wrong idea. Only, he most likely wouldn’t as he had such an unnerving obsession about her. Really, that proposal…No, she wouldn’t think about it. She’d successfully fended him off, so tonight was just about being sociable with their nearest neighbor and introducing Harry to some of the local gentry. Sir Julian was bound to have invited everyone who was anyone. And they’d all want to meet Harry. Hopefully none of them would be bringing eligible daughters who might distract him from Lissy’s charms. Although, even if they did, none of the local girls could hold a candle to Lissy for looks.
Lissy shook her head with the determination all three girls possessed in copious quantities. “No, I have no need at all to look my best for Cousin Harry. I’ve already informed him I don’t intend to marry anyone at all, and he’s told me he’s not looking for a wife. So we have reached a happy agreement that neither of us need impress the other, in which case it hardly matters what I wear, nor if I even go.”
Miranda’s mouth fell open. “Lissy!” For a moment that was all she could get out. “How many times have I warned you about thinking before you speak? You should never tell a gentleman who’s interested in you that you have no wish to marry.”
Lissy nodded. “I know, I know. I should never mention the word marriage at all or it might frighten a gentleman off. I have listened to your lectures, Mama, as have Mims and Megs, although why you think Megs needs to hear them, I don’t know. And I can assure you that Cousin Harry is not at all interested in me.”
“Nevertheless, it appears I haven’t explained how to behave with a suitor clearly enough,” Miranda snapped, aware of a strange sense of exhilaration in her middle somewhere that Harry had told Lissy he didn’t want to marry her. Really, she was mad. Quite mad. As mad as she suspected Sir Julian might be. She should be furious that Lissy had thrown over such an opportunity. But for some inexplicable reason, she wasn’t. However, she wasn’t about to let the girls know that.
“I’ve half a mind not to take you with me tonight,” she scolded. “A girl as ungrateful as you shouldn’t be rewarded.”
“I really don’t care,” Lissy retorted, proving her ungratefulness without a doubt. “I’ll be quite happy to remain at home with my sisters.”
Miranda set her hands on her hips. “As I have only agreed to go in order for you to spend more time in Cousin Harry’s company then I can’t see any point in me going at all if you are to remain at home.”
Three anxious faces regarded Miranda. What was going on here?
“But you’ll still go, won’t you?” Megs asked, hands clasped in pleading. “Even if Lissy stays at home with us?”
“Lissy isn’t staying at home,” Mims snapped, glaring at her older sister. “Are you?” Her voice held unmistakeable threat.
Miranda narrowed her eyes in suspicion, looking from one earnest face to the next. Something was going on here she couldn’t fathom. “If it wouldn’t be so impolite to back out now,” she said, watching them closely, “I most certainly would choose not to go. But we would now be disappointing Cousin Harry if we decide not to go. And I won’t allow us to do that.”
Lissy wrinkled her nose, her eyes sliding sideways towards her sisters. “I suppose I’ll go then.”
Miranda fixed her with a hard stare. “You most certainly will if I have to go. Do not labor under the impression that I am going to find Sir Julian’s company pleasant, because I’m not. I said I would go only because Harry is going. And thus I find myself having agreed to dine at Thornby Grange where I’ll have to be polite to a man I do not like in the least.”
“But don’t forget, with Cousin Harry there,” Mims said, “that will surely make the evening more fun for you.”
