Free All the Pleasures of the Season by Lecia Cornwall Page B

you.”
    She waited until the door was closed. “Adam always said my matchmaking would cause trouble. Who would you have chosen if I hadn’t interfered?”
    Miranda lowered her eyes, afraid her sister might guess the answer to that. “It doesn’t matter. There was a gentleman I thought I could marry, but he didn’t offer for me. He’s left London by now.”
    Marianne’s eyes lit up with the familiar glow of interference and mayhem. “Yes, yes, but who was he?”
    Miranda shook her head. “Grandfather would never have allowed me to marry him. I had foolish hopes, but he was more sensible than I.”
    â€œThank heaven you didn’t elope!” Marianne said.
    â€œI would have, if he’d asked, but he was too honorable for that.” She felt tears threaten, closed her eyes.
    Marianne touched her cheek. “Oh, Miranda, I would not see you unhappy for anything in the world!”
    She felt a tear fall. “I thought I could bear any unhappiness if it would make you and Grandfather happy, but I can’t. I want to be happy, Marianne, and loved.”
    The coachman arrived before her sister could reply, and Miranda left her to give the necessary orders for the trip.
    In her room, all was in uproar as three maids packed her trunk. Turning away from them, she looked at herself in the glass. She looked older than her nineteen years, she thought. It had been a busy year. This time last year, as she helped her grandfather plan the Carrington Christmas Ball, she had been looking forward to her debut, certain she would find the perfect husband, be married by now.
    She’d made countless lists of eligible lords, researched peerages, pedigrees, and fortunes. How naive she’d been. She had imagined it would simply be a matter of meeting the gentlemen on her list, and picking the one she liked best, like sweetmeats at a buffet.
    Phineas had asked her what she would do if she fell in love with a parson, or a second son, instead of one of the noble names on her list. She had laughed at him. That was before she met Gilbert. Phineas had described him as honorable, a good shot, kind, and pleasant, intelligent company. But even Phineas had known that he would not make a suitable husband for the granddaughter of a duke. She smiled, recalling now that Phineas didn’t want her to marry anyone . He guarded her jealously, protected her.
    Like Gilbert.
    Someday, Gilbert would find the perfect wife, and he would marry and make her very happy. Miranda stared at her reflection and wondered what her own future would be. She had no intention of marrying now. It wouldn’t be fair to tie herself to one man when she loved another. What husband could live up to the memory of a perfect and untried love?
    She picked up her hairbrush, undid her hair, and brushed out the long length of it, the strokes soothing.
    Who would have thought the Belle of the Season would end up a spinster?

 
    C HAPTER E LEVEN
    G ilbert paced the floor of his lodgings, watching the clock. The polite hour for paying calls did not start until three o’clock.
    It gave him time to think, to plan what he would say. He would see Miranda, tell her he loved her, ask her to marry him. If she said yes, he would leave at once for Carrington Castle. If the roads were good, which was a rarity in December, he would be there in three or four days, just before Christmas.
    He had not planned further than that, or decided what he would do if Carrington refused his suit.
    He could not stop thinking of her kiss. He looked at the clock again. It was barely half past one. He burned to take her in his arms again, show her he loved her, tell her he’d been a fool to reject her proposal.
    He would still walk away if Carrington said no. He wished he’d never touched her at all. Would he ever kiss another woman without comparing, remembering Miranda? That kiss would live in his heart and burn in his soul for the rest of