Therefore, there must be something fundamentally wrong with her. There could be no other explanation.
Miri also didn't care what Will said about whores and Covent Garden and the like. He was wrong. There was something inherently wrong with her. There had to be a reason she preferred the cold loneliness of the stars to people. There simply had to be. And the only way that was possible was if something was not right in her head or her heart or her brain. Miri just hoped and prayed that Will would make love to her before he came to that same conclusion as well. And that he was as good as he claimed to be.
Miri had been so lost in thought that she had not heard her mother prattling on, but at the mention of telescopes, she pulled her mind back to the present.
"...and I made certain to inquire about that very topic, so you can rest assured, my dear, that there are no telescopes here. Also, I don't want you being seen with Lady Pearl. She might be lovely to receive in the drawing room back home, but rumors of your expulsion from Mrs. Witherson's are still swirling about, even if they are dying down a bit. Sarah and I do not want to risk fanning the flames, especially not now that you have seemingly captured the interest of an earl. And if you can't bring him up to scratch, I am certain that either Lord Buxton or Lord Stillborough can be, even though they will require a good deal more work. If you see either of those gentlemen tonight, be sure to offer them your card, darling. We need you to find a husband. Sarah is rather certain of this and I trust her judgment. She assures me that a match will go a very long way to restoring your reputation. As I'm certain you know..."
Feeling a bit jumpy, Miri allowed her mother to ramble on. When Lady Ophelia Bexley warmed to a topic, even one not of her own creation, she usually dug into it with all of the enthusiasm of a dog with a juicy bone. And the topic of Miri's need for a husband - whoever had planted the seeds of that wretched idea - was her current bone of choice to gnaw on relentlessly. Therefore, it was simply best to allow her mother to ramble on rather than fight the issue. More than that, Miri didn't wish for her mother - or Sarah and Rayne for that matter - to ever discover just how independent Miri had become over the years. No, that would not do at all.
In fact, in some ways, Miri had preferred it when her mother, not to mention the rest of her family, acted as if she didn't even exist at all.
Miri's father, the previous Earl of Raynecourt, had died when Miri was very young, and she possessed only shadowy memories at best of a man whose voice she could not recall and whose face she remembered only because of the portrait that hung in the family gallery. What Miri did recall, however, was her mother locking herself away in her room for days because she was so overcome with grief after the death of her husband. Miri also remembered Lady Chillton, the mother of Frost, Rayne's best friend, sweeping in and turning Fieldown, the Raynecourt country seat, upside down in an attempt to help all of the Raynecourt children move on with their lives.
Miri had been part of that process and yet...not. She still remembered the icy claws of fear she had endured as Lady Chillton swept into Fieldown and began turning the entire estate on its proverbial ear. The woman had meant well, but to a very young and impressionable Miri, it seemed to her as if all she had ever known was being swept away and pushed aside in favor of yet more change. Miri had also been instructed by her nanny not to cry over the death of her papa, that there had been enough tears in the house already and that crying would not solve anything. Each time she had felt like crying, Nanny had insisted that Miri remove herself to some place that others could not see. Even if that meant leaving the nursery. And even if it was in the middle of the night with no place to flee but the roof of the old manor house where her father's old astronomy equipment remained untouched and likely forgotten.
To a terrified young girl whose papa was now gone forever, the remains of his scientific experiments were somehow both calming and reassuring. They were a tangible link to a man she was not allowed to mourn in public but could feel closer to in private. So that night Miri had placed the old telescope to her eye and peered through the lens, hoping to see what her father once saw, all in an effort to bring back some of the order now missing from her life. It was then that she discovered a place so perfect and calm that fear and sadness had no place. That place was the universe beyond this world.
Thus had begun Miri's fascination with the stars. And telescopes. The night sky did not cry or weep. It was never out of sorts or at loose ends. It was always ordered, neat and tidy. It was also perfect - to a young girl's untrained eye at least. And perfect was something that, with her lame leg and seemingly endless supply of tears for her father, Miri would never be.
Which was at least in part why Miri now led the life she did, one removed to a very large degree from her family. She had learned long ago to be independent and to fend for herself. She learned not to depend on anyone or show any sort of emotion, which was how she had come to prefer her life. To be sucked back into her mother's plans now? To be told what her future should hold and how to go about obtaining it? That chaffed. Rather a lot. The truth was, Lady Ophelia knew very little about her youngest child. And it was likely too late for the older woman to learn. If she even wanted to do so.
Because for as much as Miri loved her mother and her mother loved her in return, Lady Ophelia didn't understand her daughter one little bit. Miri didn't blame her mother for that, but it did mark a separation of sorts, a gulf that as of yet, neither of them could find a way to bridge, if such a thing was even possible. Miri wasn't convinced that it was. After all, her mother cared about marriage and a husband and babies. Miri cared about learning and stars and knowledge. She wished to know passion but not be bound to it by some legality. They were two vastly different people and unlikely to change at this point.
Miri also knew that her mother still viewed her as a child and likely always would, no matter how old she became. When her husband had died, something had broken inside of Ophelia and, while she was now better and able to function in Society again, that broken piece inside of her remained shattered, unable to be repaired. Part of that break included forever viewing her children as just that - children. No matter their age. And Miri would always be the baby just out of leading strings and still in the nursery. No matter how old she actually was.
Which was why Miri hated Sarah at this moment for giving Ophelia an idea she did not need and Miri did not want. Which was why she was at this dratted ball and not at home with her telescopes. Well, that and Will, of course, though he was a relatively new addition to her life. And she still wasn't sure how he fit. Or if he even fit at all. Other than bedding her eventually, of course. There was that to consider.
Finally, as her mother continued to prattle on about nothing in particular, they were eventually met by the aforementioned Lady Chillton who quickly swept Miri's mother away to the "Wall of Dragons" as Miri secretly thought of the spinster, wallflower, and dowager area, leaving Miri free to mingle. Technically she should be chaperoned at all times but that morning, the Town Tattler had, as Miri had instructed Lady A, broken the news that Lady Anna Davenport had been named the recipient of this Season's Letter.
So while Lady Chillton did not even begin to suspect the true depth of Miri's involvement in Aunt Beanie's plans, the other woman did acknowledge that Miri played some role in the whole affair, especially given the two families' long association with each other. To that end, Miri needed to be free to mingle and converse with as many people as possible in the days immediately following the announcement to talk up Lady Anna and her selection as the recipient. Given that Miri was almost on the shelf anyway, Lady Chillton judged Miri safe enough to be on her own as of late, especially at a gathering like this where they knew almost everyone and everyone knew them.
The entire situation was not exactly proper but it was the small bit of freedom Miri had managed to wrangle over the years, and she would not lose it now simply because Sarah had an itch to scratch over Miri finding a husband. Not to mention that tonight Miri truly had no
intention of disappearing from the ballroom. In addition to promoting Anna, Will was supposed to be attending the ball this evening and Miri wished to know what he had in store for her next. His attentions that morning had been unexpected and, surprisingly, very welcome. After that, he had become convinced she could feel emotion and passion. Miri prayed that he knew what he was doing and that he was correct in his assumptions.
As if thinking of him could conjure him out of thin air, she felt Will come up behind her. Odd that after only one day, she recognized his presence from among all of the other men in the room. Perhaps there was hope for her yet.
"Did you save a dance for me, Lady Miri?" he asked with a grin and she found that she could not help but grin back at him. Most unlike her, but not unpleasant.
"I did, Lord Blackthorne. A waltz if you please, as you know I do not move well. I've no wish to be in pain tomorrow." She shifted the walking stick in her hand but there was no need. Will knew of her infirmity. More to the point, after a single day, he knew more about her than most people ever did after years of acquaintance.
"I would not hurt you, my lady. I trust you know that. I shall come for you when the time is appropriate." He picked up her dance card and scribbled down his name. "We do not wish to stir the fires of gossip too soon." Then he was gone, sinking back into the crowds, lest he cause too much gossip from the first and doom this scheme to failure.
He was right, drat the man. If he paid too much attention to Miri now, tongues would begin to wag within a day or so. Possibly less. They had danced last evening, and Will was now known as the first man ever to be able to successfully coax her onto the dance floor. That was a remarkable enough event that it was being gossiped about everywhere. They would, of course, dance again this evening, adding fuel to that particular fire. If he attended to her now before the music began, people would likely become suspicious and wonder at their involvement. She needed this relationship, such as it was, to look believable and not like the outright seduction it truly was.
"You are enamored of him." This time it was her friend Pearl's turn to sneak up on Miri and once more, the intrusion was a welcome one. Even if her mother had strictly forbidden Miri from speaking with Pearl this evening. Not that Miri ever had any intention of listening anyway.
Looping her arm through Pearl's, Miri moved them off in the direction of the refreshment room so that she would not have to offer her dance card to Lord Buxton who had just entered and was looking for some unfortunate young lady to annoy. Likely her if his past behavior was any indication.
"We danced last night. That is all. We haven't had a chance to become enamored as of yet, if that is what you are thinking," Miri replied easily as she moved as best she could, using Pearl for support when her walking stick would not hold her.
All around them, happy couples chatted and laughed, though she could see signs of strain in some, such as on the faces of Lord Evan Haddington, the Marquess of Berkshire, and his ward Miss Cassandra Grove. The two were involved in a rather spirited discussion of some sort, their eyes full of an emotion that Miri could not name. Was that what passion looked like? For it certainly seemed to Miri that something sparked intensely between the two, yet she was unsure of what she saw there. Which was why Will was to teach her about passion.
After all, it wasn't as if she could ask anyone else when she really stopped and thought about the matter. Miri had few enough friends as it was. And those she did have? Well, for the most part, they were no better off than she was in many ways. Especially Pearl, who was her dearest and closest friend in the world. If anything, Pearl was even more out of place in this world than Miri was.
Beside her, Pearl appeared serene and sure of herself, though Miri knew that was all an act. Her friend was the consummate actress and no one could tell that deep inside, Pearl likely wished to be anywhere but here. Probably back in Baltimore if she had a choice in the matter. Miri herself felt itchy and out of place as she always did at these affairs. Odd that she had not felt that way when she was with Will. Now that he was no longer beside her, she wished to run as far and as fast as her bad leg would carry her.
"Will is a friend," Miri said with a sigh when her friend had said nothing. "That is all. There is nothing between us."
"Posh," Pearl snapped, planting a smile on her face that was fooling no one. She might be the hostess in her brother's home this evening but the role was not a comfortable one. Especially not with Pearl's brother Daniel all but salivating over Miss Beatrice Denton, Pearl's current companion and chaperone, and causing something of a scene. "I know you, Miri Bexley, often better than you know yourself despite our short acquaintance. You are infatuated with the man. You danced with him." Pearl said the word "danced" with the same distaste as she might say the words "pig farming."
Eyes fixed straight ahead so that she might continue to avoid Lord Buxton, Miri gritted her teeth. "He required assistance in my family's home and I offered it. A damaged carriage harness that required a speedy repair. In turn, he was kind to me. It was novel." She sighed. "Pearl, my mother wishes for me to marry. I don't desire a husband. I suspect that Lord Blackthorne does not desire a wife either, especially with an estate in such dire financial straights. He was a diversion for a single night. Nothing more. However, if I am careful, he can also be a diversion for the next several nights and keep my mother and Sarah occupied until I can plan a different future for myself."
"So you would go live with Aunt Beanie then?" From their days together at Mrs. Witherson's, Pearl knew that it had always been Miri's plan to escape to her aunt's estate if conditions within Raynecourt House became unbearable.
"Perhaps. I am as yet uncertain." She grasped her friend's hands tightly as Lord Buxton approached, having clearly spotted his quarry - namely her. What he wanted with her Miri could not guess, but it was probably nothing good. "Please, Pearl. I am begging of you. Mention this to no one. My mother and Sarah cannot know what I am planning. If they did, they would lock me in my room and I would never see the light of day again."
Pearl sighed wearily, one eye always on the approaching lord. She looked as if she might be ill at the thought of even conversing with the man. "Have I ever told a soul the truth about Mrs. Witherson's? No. So you may trust me on this as well. I would not betray you, Miri. Never."
Her friend's voice did not have the lilting, cultured English tones that everyone else in the room did, though she could if she tried. Miri had heard Pearl mimic the English aristocracy on several occasions. Instead, tonight Pearl spoke in her natural voice, with her round vowels and a peculiar deepness in her throat, marking her as American born and bred, even though she was of English blood through and through. Like Miri, Pearl's unconventional upbringing marked her as an outsider as well. Perhaps that was why they got on so well.
"I do trust you," Miri reassured her friend quickly. "More than anyone. More than that, I like you."
That comment made Pearl laugh. "Coming from you, that is high praise indeed." With that, she gave Miri a little push. "Go. Find your earl and dance with him. For I know that is what you wish, no matter how you strongly deny it." She nodded in the direction of Buxton who had been waylaid by Lord Hunt, though that delay would not likely last long. "I will deal with the good Lord Buxton. He is terrified of me. Daniel says that is because I am a 'rough and tumble American' in his eyes and he is afraid that if he attempts to bed me as he does all the other Society chits that I will slit his throat in his sleep. After all, I was born and bred in Baltimore, you know. Heathens, the lot of us."
It was Miri's turn to laugh. "If anyone could terrify our randy Lord Buxton, it would be you, for you are far from the sort of simpering miss that populates the Marriage Mart these days." Then she turned serious. "Pearl. Thank you. I owe you one."
"Go." Pearl nodded in the direction of a darkened corridor. "Some day I might need a favor. When I do, I will call upon you. But for now, off with you. Lord Buxton will not corner you this night." Her face was soft and distant in the candl
elight as if she was remembering another time and place. "Go find your earl and make him fall in love with you. You deserve that, Miri, far more than I think even you understand."
Then, it was as if a mask slammed down over Pearl's features. Gone was her usual kind smile and her eyes became vacant, almost empty. He face went blank, all hint of intelligence and character wiped away. Now, her smile was too wide and her eyes too bright. Pearl was shrewd and calculating, far more intelligent than even most men that Miri knew. But not now. Now Pearl looked rather vapid, actually, and the high pitched giggle she let out only drove that point home to all within hearing distance. This woman was the raw, green child that Sarah had encountered the previous summer when she had accidentally ridden onto Montclef, Weston's country estate that bordered Sarah's own home.
But this creature standing before Miri wasn't the real Pearl. That woman was carefully hidden away under layers of batted eyelashes, false smiles, peculiar tales, and empty laughter. The real version of Miri's friend would not re-emerge until Pearl wished to be herself again. Sad that such a wonderful friend and loyal woman was not free to be who she truly was and instead was caged and constrained by a society who wished to place her in a box and keep her there so that they could more easily understand her.
Lady Pearl Weston fit no mold that Society could understand. Her mother had been the daughter of a duke. Her father a marquess. Her brother was the current marquess, though he had been born in England and did not bear the stigma of being born in "the colonies" as so many members of the ton whispered about Pearl beneath their breath. Raised by her brother in Baltimore, Maryland, Pearl considered that wild land her home and not the refined green hills of England. Yet she was of English blood and could not escape that reality either. Nor could she return to Maryland. So in order to survive, Pearl became another version of herself, a version that the people of London wished to see. One they could understand and catalog and then dismiss. But that wasn't the real Pearl and never would be.
An Earl For Hire Page 9
