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Authors: Miranda of the Island

Sally James (7 page)

“I will accept your word in regard to her perfections,” Judith answered dryly. “I saw enough to know she can be made eminently presentable.”

“Presentable?” He looked keenly at her, then broke into laughter. “Purchase whatever is necessary for her, Judith, and of the best, and send the bills to me.”

“What in the world will Mrs Floode say?” she asked quietly.

“Mrs Floode?” He grinned boyishly. “I had entirely forgot our dear Mrs Floode! What gives her the right to remark on it?”

“What indeed? But you can be sure she will find plenty to say, she always does! The only way you can stem the tide will be to offer for Araminta before we launch Miranda!”

“I cannot think why everyone should be so confoundedly anxious to arrange my affairs for me. I am perfectly capable of making an offer to whomsoever I choose, whenever I choose. Why do you all wish to have me legshackled to Araminta?”

“You gave some reason for it, Denzil, singling out the girl and paying her such very marked attentions. I know everyone expected an announcement before you went off to the country. I am positive Araminta herself expected you to offer then.”

“She is pretty, in a rather obvious way,” he said calmly. “I was by no means the only man to pay her attentions.”

“It is rumoured she has refused at least two exceedingly eligible offers, one of them from an earl, and you, Denzil, are a mere baronet! She must have a decided partiality for you!”

“Then she is more foolish than I thought. Who was it? Young Devoran? She would be advised to accept him.”

Judith looked at him speculatively, and he returned her gaze with an enigmatic smile on his lips, an inscrutable expression in his eyes.

“We have deserted Miranda for rather too long. Shall we return and set her mind at ease?” he asked, and Judith, recalled to her duties as a hostess, exclaimed in remorse. “Just one thing, my dear. I have said nothing to her of my suspicions. She does not know to whom the island belongs, and I think it best to say nothing yet. She may not wish to claim Sir Henry as a father when she has met him, and heard whatever we may discover!”

“As you please. Yes, I suppose it would be wiser to satisfy our own suspicions first. Denzil, you will sit down to dinner with us? We are on our own, and I am sure Miranda would be more comfortable if you remained.”

* * * *

He nodded, and they went down to where Miranda sat clutching her unread magazine. She started to her feet when the door opened, and looked anxiously from one to the other. Denzil went to her and took her cold hands in his.

“Miranda, I have told Judith everything, but only so that she can help you. I do apologise we were so long.”

Miranda turned her huge blue eyes towards Judith.”Did you not wish to have me, Ma’am?” she asked candidly. “I would not impose on you against your will, so if Denzil has over-persuaded you, please say so!”

Judith went forward, her hands outstretched. “My dear, I am delighted to have you, and we have been an unconscionable time only because I found it so difficult to believe what he told me, that anyone could treat you so abominably!” she concluded indignantly. “Then I fear we were selfish and forgot the time in catching up on family affairs. It was unforgivable of me, but I mean to make it up to you from this very moment!”

Miranda smiled in relief, and Judith, who had been admiring her unreservedly since she had come back into the room, felt a sudden pang of remorse. Araminta had no chance against this delectable creature! Whatever Denzil’s motives appeared to be to him, Judith could discern a more powerful one than any he had admitted to her.

“You are so kind, and so has Denzil been!” A tear glistened on her lashes for a moment, but she impatiently shook it away.

“Denzil, you are right, she will be a sensation!” Judith exclaimed. “Miranda – may I call you that? And please call me Judith, for I would not have you stand on any ceremony with us. I shall so delight in helping you select materials and designs. My little Charlotte is only six, and though I have no desire to grow older myself, I cannot wait until I can begin to deck her in finery! We will go to purchase some dress lengths tomorrow, and also see my dressmaker, if you are not too weary after the journey.”

“Oh, that would indeed be delightful, and I am not in the least bit tired! But I beg you will not spend too much on me, Denzil,” she turned to him. “I am used to making my own gowns, and could easily do that to save expense.”

“Nonsense, you will have no time!” Judith exclaimed gaily. “And now I will show you up to your room, and help you to unpack.”

She caught the apprehensive look Miranda cast towards Denzil, and interpreted it correctly. “Denzil is to join us for dinner, my dear. He is not leaving you to the mercy of strangers just yet!”

Miranda coloured slightly, and laughed.

“I feel so odd, I do not know what to think!”

Denzil smiled encouragingly. “If I know Judith, the two of you will be chattering for hours! I shall walk home and change, and be back in good time, Judith.”

Judith rang the bell, and Parsons appeared to show Denzil out, then received swift instructions from his mistress. Judith swept Miranda up to a pleasant room that looked out over the street, and helped her to unpack the few possessions she had brought. She then went away to change, and Miranda put on the blue gown she had worn on the island. When Judith returned to conduct her downstairs, she exclaimed anew at the delightful picture Miranda presented.

“I can see you have excellent taste and judgement, my dear. Come and look at the fashion plates in the latest journals, and we can make plans as to what we will purchase tomorrow.”

They were in the middle of this absorbing pastime when Judith’s husband, Lord Beverley, walked in. He stopped as he saw Miranda.

“My dear, I was not aware we had company! Pray introduce me!”

“Miranda, this is my husband John, and John dear, this is a ward of Denzil’s, Miss Miranda de Lisle. She has come to stay with us for a while.”

Imperturbable, not betraying by a flicker of his eyes his astonishment at this news, he greeted Miranda, and Judith watched in considerable amusement the effect the girl had on him. He sat for a few minutes making polite conversation, but his eyes did not leave her face. She will have the same effect on all the men, Judith thought with satisfaction.

Reluctantly Lord Beverley tore himself away to go and change, but almost immediately Denzil was announced, and the three of them spent an agreeable half hour planning their activities for the next few days.

“Miranda has a few suitable daytime dresses, so you could drive her out in your curricle for an airing. Then, as soon as she has a new evening gown, I will hold a small dinner party. After that we will begin making calls, for doubtless by then the word will have passed round, and the curious will be deluging us with invitations!” Judith promised.

“Perhaps the theatre?” Denzil suggested, glancing across at Miranda.

“Oh, yes please! I should like that above all!” she cried rapturously.

“And I promised to give Miranda riding lessons, and that you would provide for a dancing master,” Denzil recalled. “You will have no time for needlework, Miranda!”

“Indeed no! I begin to wonder how I shall fit it all in. I cannot imagine how I contrived to pass the time on the island!”

A hard look came into Denzil’s eyes, but he replied lightly, and soon dinner was announced.

Judith noted with relief that Miranda had excellent table manners. She would not have relished beginning with that sort of instruction. She had managed to snatch a quiet word with her husband to warn him not to ask questions about Miranda’s family and former life, and he, puzzled but amiable, had complied. He was content to watch her, and made only the occasional remark, usually in answer to a question from Denzil about what had been happening while he had been away.

Miranda was subdued, and the burden of the conversation was left to Judith and Denzil. As they chatted about their friends, Miranda observed them unobtrusively, and was satisfied by the end of the meal that she would be happy with Judith. She went readily when Judith rose, and they left the two men to their brandy, retiring to the drawing room.

Here Judith led Miranda on to tell her about life on the island, and though the girl did not appear to realise the enormity of what had been done to her, Judith had great difficulty in concealing the fury generated in her by these artless revelations.

The men soon joined them, and after the tea tray had been brought Denzil took his leave. Judith noted with approval that Miranda was able to say farewell with scarcely a flash of apprehension in those huge eyes.

* * * *

That night in the privacy of their room Judith told her husband Miranda’s story, scarcely able to control her indignation towards Sir Henry. He was as aghast as she had been, but cautioned her against too much fulmination before she had any proof.

“I am no fool,” she retorted angrily. “I shall not repeat a word of this outside this room.” Later: “What will Araminta say?” she asked sleepily. “I wonder whether Denzil really has any intentions towards her?”

Her spouse did not bother to wonder which her was meant. He knew very well what he, in Denzil’s place, would have in mind. But there would be problems, he thought, whether Sir Henry turned out to be Miranda’s father or not.

The next day Miranda spent several enjoyable hours looking at materials in some of the largest warehouses. Judith discovered she had strong views on what she liked. She had been afraid Miranda would be swept away with the multitude of choice open to her, and had been prepared to exercise tactful persuasion against unsuitable selections. But she need not have feared. Miranda instinctively knew what would become her, and Judith’s main difficulty was in persuading her to buy enough lengths of muslins and cambrics, with a few silks and satins for grander gowns.

“I have purchased far too much already,” Miranda protested, and Judith had to spend considerable time in convincing her that if she were to do justice to her role as Denzil’s ward, she needed a great deal more.

“You would not have people think he was clutch-fisted towards his ward?” she asked, and was relieved when Miranda meekly accepted this argument.

They drove on to Judith’s dressmaker, and this lady, realising that here was a potentially valuable client – for Miss Potterton instantly saw that such a beauty would be much sought after, and likely to make an excellent marriage – entered enthusiastically into the discussions, and promised to have the first evening gown ready in two days time.

Here again Miranda showed definite views, refusing to consider any but the simplest of trimmings.

“Miss de Lisle is right, Lady Beverley,” Miss Potterton declared. “She does not need adornment, and the simplest gowns will emphasise her beauty much more than too elaborate confections.”

At last they were all satisfied, and Judith told her coachman to drive to Bond Street.

“I want to take you to Celeste, who makes the most enchanting hats. You need one to set off your grey gown if you are to drive with Denzil tomorrow.”

“Yes, for I have only the one. We had no need of hats, and I was not very clever at making them, in any event. It was odd because I could copy dresses easily, but my hats were never successful.”

Celeste took the same view as Miss Potterton about the potential value of this new client.

“To go with grey? Cerise,” she decreed. “I have the very thing, a simple bonnet that will frame the face, yet allow that glorious hair to be seen. And if I put a grey feather, so, it will look charming!”

Miranda was delighted, and Judith nodded contentedly. “We will be needing others, and we will bring the gowns to be matched when they are ready,” she promised the gratified milliner.

Happy but exhausted they returned to Green Street, and Judith congratulated herself that they had no engagements that night.

“But I must decide whom to invite to a small dinner party. We will have it next Tuesday, I think. Your new gown will be ready, and we will have had time to purchase the other things you need, shoes, stockings. Why, Miranda, I am vastly enjoying this!”

* * * *

Denzil arrived the following morning in his curricle, drawn by his famous pair of jet black horses, to take Miranda for a drive. George was holding the horses and he smiled paternally at Miranda when she appeared on the steps and exclaimed in delight at the horses. After making a fuss of them she permitted Denzil to hand her into the curricle, then he leapt in himself, nodded to George to let the horses go, and set off at a restrained pace, easily holding in the fresh horses while they negotiated the traffic that thronged the streets. Miranda entertained him with an account of her shopping, and anxiously asked if he approved of her hat.

“Indeed I do, it is most fetching,” he responded instantly.

“I hope you will not mind the expense! Judith insisted I bought so much! You will be shocked at the bills!”                    

Privately he doubted it, having in the past received bills for items of female adornment.

“Why are you so careful about money, Miranda?” he asked curiously. “You cannot have used it on the island, to know its value!”

“Miss Brockton used to give me the accounts she made for the island as arithmetic exercises,” she explained. “And she was always complaining about the prices of things she had to send for. I think she was allowed a fixed amount each year, and she had to be careful not to overspend. I wonder who gave her the money?” she asked wistfully.

“We will one day find out if we can,” Denzil said in an attempt to cheer her, but she merely smiled abstractedly, for having by now come to accept she was indeed sane as he had said, she was beginning to wonder why she had been kept on the island, and by whom, and the reflections were far from pleasant.

But soon she regained her cheerfulness as Denzil swung through the gates into Hyde Park. There seemed to Miranda a good many people riding and taking the air in carriages, though when she commented on this, he informed her it was far more crowded in the season itself.

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