Free Secret Diaries of Miss Miranda Cheever by Julia Quinn

five hundred of, if not the country’s finest, at least its most pompous.
    Still, Olivia was going to have to find a husband from among this lot, Miranda, too, and Turner was bloody well not going to allow either one of them to make a match as disastrous as his own had been. London was teeming with male equivalents to Leticia, most of whom began their names with Lord This or Sir That. And Turner quite doubted that his mother would be privy to the more salacious of the gossip that ran through their circles.
    Still, it didn’t mean that he would be required to make too many appearances. He was here, at their debut ball, and he’d squire them about now and then, perhaps if there was something at the theater he actually cared to see, and beyond that, he’d monitor their progress from behind the scenes. By the end of summer, he’d be done with all this nonsense, and he could go back to—
    Well, he could go back to whatever it was he’d been thinking about planning to do. Study crop rotation, perhaps. Take up archery. Visit the local public house. He rather liked their ale. And no one ever asked questions about the recently departed Lady Turner.
    â€œDarling, you’re here!” His mother suddenly filled his vision, lovely in her purple gown.
    â€œI told you I would make it in time,” he replied, finishing off the glass of champagne he’d been holding in his hand. “Weren’t you alerted to my arrival?”
    â€œNo,” she replied, somewhat distractedly. “I have been running about like a madwoman with all the last-moment details. I’m sure the servants did not wish to bother me.”
    â€œOr they could not find you,” Turner remarked, idly scanning the crowd. It was a mad crush—a success by anymeasure. He did not see either of the guests of honor, but then again, he’d been quite content to remain in the shadows for the twenty minutes or so he’d been present.
    â€œI have secured permission for both girls to waltz,” Lady Rudland said, “so please do your duty by both of them.”
    â€œA direct order,” he murmured.
    â€œEspecially Miranda,” she added, apparently not having heard his comment.
    â€œWhat do you mean, especially Miranda?”
    His mother turned to him with no-nonsense eyes. “Miranda is a remarkable girl, and I love her dearly, but we both know that she is not the sort that society normally favors.”
    Turner gave her a sharp look. “We both also know that society is rarely an excellent judge of character. Leticia, if you recall, was a grand success.”
    â€œAnd so is Olivia, if this evening is any indication,” his mother shot back tartly. “Society is capricious and rewards the bad as often as the good. But it never rewards the quiet.”
    It was at that moment that Turner caught sight of Miranda, standing near Olivia by the door to the hall.
    Near Olivia, but worlds apart.
    It wasn’t that Miranda was being ignored, because she surely was not. She was smiling at a young gentleman who appeared to be asking her to dance. But she had nothing like the crowd surrounding Olivia, who, Turner had to admit, shone like a radiant jewel placed in its proper setting. Olivia’s eyes sparkled, and when she laughed, music seemed to fill the air.
    There was something captivating about his sister. Even Turner had to admit it.
    But Miranda was different. She watched. She smiled, but it was almost as if she had a secret, as if she were jotting notes in her mind about the people she met.
    â€œGo dance with her,” his mother urged.
    â€œMiranda?” he asked, surprised. He would have thought she’d wish him to bestow his first dance with Olivia.
    Lady Rudland nodded. “It will be a huge coup for her. You have not danced since…since I cannot even recall. Long before Leticia died.”
    Turner felt his jaw tighten, and he would have said something, except his mother