Free The Price of Indiscretion by Cathy Maxwell Page A

Miranda. Finally she could take no more. After partnering with Captain Lewis for a dance, she said, “I’m suddenly not feeling quite the thing”—and, surprisingly, she really wasn’t—“perhaps I need a moment alone?”
    She didn’t wait for a response but left, skirting the edge of the crowd and moving toward the door leading into the house in search of a retiring room set up for the ladies.
    Behind her, the music started. She couldn’t resist a glance in Alex’s direction. His partner smiled at him with adoring eyes.
    A servant escorted her down a candlelit hallway to the retiring room. It was a large bedroom set aside for the women to have a moment of privacy, attend to their toilette, or even rest a moment, if necessary. Thankfully, the room was empty. Miranda collapsed into a chair.
    This whole evening was a disaster. Alex aside, she had insulted her host and was in danger of finding herself married off to Sir William before ever seeing the shores of England.
    Charlotte would call her silly to let Alex’s presence upset her in this manner. After all, what was he to her? Nothing. He was her past. She had to think of her future. Her sisters had put their faith in her.
    A glance at her face in one of the room’s many mirrors revealed she was crying, and she hadn’t even realized it. She wrapped her arms around her waist and held tight, not wanting to feel this sense of loss for Alex. Unable to prevent it from flowing through her.
    He was no longer the boy she’d fallen in love with. She wasn’t even the same person herself. Their paths had gone in different directions—
    A footstep in the hall warned that her peace was about to be invaded.
    Swiping at her eyes, Miranda hurried behind the privacy screen, not wanting anyone, especially Lady Overstreet, to see her like this.
    A herd of women entered the room. The dance set must have ended. Miranda listened to them chatter in Portuguese. They were excited. When she heard one mention “Captain Haddon,” she knew why.
    Peeking through the crack between the panels of the screen, she watched the last girl Alex had danced with mimic a heaving bosom to her friends. She pouted her lips and lifted her nose in an offensively superior attitude.
    The others laughed and threw out comments of their own.
    They were making fun of Miranda. She knew it without understanding a word they said. And they were crowing because they all knew Alex wanted nothing to do with her.
    Miranda and her sisters had always been the targets of such scorn from women, and she wouldn’t have stayed there hiding for all the world. This attitude was the one that had propelled Charlotte to want to reclaim their heritage.
    She stepped out from behind the privacy screen, making her presence known. The room immediately fell quiet. She smiled at the six women in the room before walking over to the mirror where Alex’s dance partner still stood. Making it a point to stand close to the woman, Miranda reached for the pitcher of lemon-scented water to pour into the basin.
    She moved with deliberate grace, conscious that they watched her closely. Good. Let them be the ones to feel uncomfortable.
    However, as she poured water into the basin, Alex’s dancing partner hit Miranda’s elbow with her hip. Water spilled outside the basin and onto Miranda’s dress.
    Miranda looked up in surprise.
    “ Perdão, ” the young woman threw out, her sneer belying any apology in the word. Her friends giggled behind her. One of them opened the door, and they all fell over themselves hurrying out into the hall where they could really laugh.
    Taking a towel, Miranda blotted her skirt dry, irritated at the pettiness of some women. This was why she and her sisters relied on one another. Even in the valley, where there were five men to every woman, there had been jealousy and gossip. Their neighbor Laurel Wakefield had been married seven years and borne four children. Still, Laurel would never let anyone forget the scandal