Free Sally James by Miranda of the Island

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.
    They created the sort of stir Denzil had predicted. Not only was his companion extremely beautiful, young, and unknown, and therefore an object of curiosity, but it was unheard of for Sir Denzil Trewyn to escort a female in his curricle. He was regarded as an experienced flirt, and mothers warned their daughters not to be taken in by him, but he had not yet made any girl conspicuous by inviting her to drive with him. Soon he was hailed by a group of men riding magnificent horses, and smiling encouragingly to Miranda, he drew up beside them.
    “I thought you were out of town, Denzil?” one of them said. “What brings you back so unexpectedly?” He glanced at Miranda as he spoke.
    “Business,” Denzil replied coolly. “Allow me to present you to my ward. Miranda, Lord Vaughan, Sir Timothy Baines, Mr Thomas. Gentlemen, Miss de Lisle.”
    They competed for her attention, and she shyly replied to the remarks they made, all the time regarding them with a candour and interest they found devastating. Soon Denzil put an end to it.
    “The horses will take cold. Good day to you.”
    That was the first of a series of similar encounters, including some with ladies, who eyed Miranda with varying mixtures of curiosity, perplexity, and suspicion.
    “I suppose you are aware Araminta is due back in town next week?” one spiteful looking girl a few years older than Miranda asked.
    “No. I did not even realise she was away,” Denzil replied, his lips twitching slightly in amusement.
    “I assumed you must have known.”
    “Why should I?”
    The girl seemed a little disconcerted.
    “I made sure your sister would have told you.” she managed, and turned to speak to her companion.
    “Who is Araminta?” Miranda asked when they had driven on. “She seemed very interested in her.”
    “One of last season’s belles,” he answered easily.
    “The women do not seem as friendly as the men,” she said consideringly, and he laughed so heartily several people turned to stare at them, for they were at that moment held up in a line of carriages.
    “They are contemplating your beauty and setting theirs against it, finding you vastly superior,” he explained. “You will soon learn to recognise jealousy and envy.”
    “Oh,” was all she vouchsafed to that.
    “Has Judith planned which friends she is asking to her dinner party?” he asked to turn the subject, and she mentioned a few names. “Do you feel ready for meeting people in such a party?”
    “I think I shall enjoy it. Oh, Denzil how immensely grateful I am to you for rescuing me!”
     

Chapter Six
     
    The interesting intelligence that Sir Denzil Trewyn had suddenly produced a ward, that she was ravishingly lovely, and that he had actually driven her in the park in his curricle, proved a