Chapter 9

Miranda was sitting in the hotel foyer, staring off into the distance when Elaine found her. "There you are."

With a start, she turned to her sister with a smile as she set aside the painting she was supposed to be working on, but yet, was still a blank sheet of paper on her lap and nothing more. Not even a rough sketch. It was as if all inspiration had vanished. But it was no wonder. Anthony hadn't come by the hotel for the past few days. It was Christmas Eve, and at this point, she wasn't sure she would see him. Regret over their stilted parting still washed over her. She hadn't meant to allow her emotions to take over, but again, she'd found herself speaking before she gave thought to her words. That was turning out to be quite a habit for her. At least, where Mr. Gravehill was concerned. Before Anthony had returned to her life, she had been capable of holding her tongue.

Withholding a sigh, she patted the empty seat of the settee. "You act as though I've been in hiding," she teased lightly.

"Well," Elaine said with a shrug. "You have been rather withdrawn for the past couple of days. I thought for sure that our shopping excursion the day before yesterday might have brightened your spirits, but even that failed to do so."

"If you recall," Miranda returned dryly, "you were the one who always demanded a new ribbon for her bonnet. I never particularly cared for such fripperies."

"Yes, I do realize I'm the one who finds her weakness is a lovely watered silk," Elaine said with a dramatic sigh. "But this is one Christmas that you're going to be wearing something other than the drab half-mourning attire you insist on wearing." She folded her hands together in her lap and announced, "I have ordered a new gown for you, and I am assured it shall be ready by this afternoon."

"How do you know my measurements?" Miranda wondered.

"We're nearly the same size. I took one of my gowns to the local seamstress earlier this week when you were spending time with Anthony, and she was able to create one specifically for you."

Miranda had to applaud her sister's quick thinking, but it did little to erase her melancholy. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Elaine, but truly, the only gift I need is sitting right beside me." She reached out and took her sister's hand in her own and gave it a slight squeeze. This time, she allowed the sigh from earlier to escape. "If only I could figure out a way to paint something worthy of note. Although this is a lovely scene—" She waved her hand to indicate the window in front of her. "I can't seem to gain the proper amount of enthusiasm for it, even now that it is covered in fresh, sparkling snow."

Elaine regarded her steadily, and then she said, "Perhaps what you need is a change of scenery then."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "And where do you think I might go?"

"It depends. Do you trust me?"

With a laugh, Miranda lifted a brow. "I suppose that depends on if you plan on leaving me somewhere in the wilderness."

Elaine rolled her eyes. "That was one time, and I've told you repeatedly that it wasn't on purpose."

"So you say." Miranda's lips twitched.

"I'll be back." Elaine left, and then she returned a short time later with her pelisse draped over her arm. "Gather your things. Let's go."

Miranda put her painting utensils in her valise and said, "Where did you run off to?"

"To tell Daniel that I wouldn't be around for a bit and that he would have to watch Elizabeth until we returned."

Miranda's brows lifted. She recalled the days when they were younger. Although she had loved their father dearly, he seldom spent any solitary time with anyone other than Jacob, and that was because he was speaking of business matters. "And he didn't mind?"

"It's becoming a new world, Randie," Elaine said with a broad smile and she looped her arm through hers. "Why, I shouldn't be surprised if someday, men ran the household while ladies went to work."

With a laugh, Miranda said, "That would be something to see, I agree, but I don't think it will happen in our lifetime."

Miranda returned to the King's Arms later that day and found that her smile had been restored. After the winter storm, some of the chill had passed with it. But even if her teeth had chattered the whole time, it would have been worth it to gain the incredible view that the Castlerigg stone circle offered. Smaller in scale than the infamous, Stonehenge, Castlerigg was still quite remarkable. Not only were the mountains in the distance enough to make her breath catch, but the circle itself was quite extraordinary. Like Stonehenge, no one seemed to know how long it had been there, or even how it had appeared. Either way, it had become something of a curiosity that added to the town's allure. From the carriage, Miranda had drawn an outline of the stones and the landscape beyond, and then she had gotten out and walked amongst them with Elaine for a time.

"Daniel cares nothing for archaeology or science," Elaine noted, "while I have been particularly fascinated by it. Is it that we can't recall anything about these stones, or were we not meant to remember?"

Miranda had merely shook her head. Elaine had always been more involved in mathematics and how things worked, whereas Miranda preferred the arts. That was why it made no sense that Elaine should pore over the new fashions when they arrived in London. Miranda wondered if it was the fabric itself that intrigued her sister, the way it was woven into an intricate design or specific material, rather than the latest plates at the modiste's shop.

"I would prefer to remain ignorant if that's the case," Miranda murmured with a shudder. "God only knows what we might uncover should our memory resurface."

"But it might give us a glimpse into the unknown, like what lies beyond the stars." She glanced toward the heavens, as if she might be granted the answer right then.

"I regret to disappoint you," Miranda said, "But I don't believe you shall receive divine intervention for your own curiosity."

"No," she agreed softly. "But perhaps there will be an exception for love written in the stars?"

Miranda had instantly stiffened. She generally confided in her sister about most things, but Anthony was a strict line that she refused to cross, especially now. "Don't be nonsensical. The next thing I know you'll be spouting off such ridiculousness that if I did a dance among these stones it will grant me my heart's desire."

Elaine shrugged. "It might be worth a try…"

"No." With that, Miranda had headed for the carriage. Again, Anthony had managed to upset her just by the mere thought of his name and nothing more.

As Elaine joined her and they headed back for the hotel, she asked, "What happened between you and Anthony?"

"I don't wish to discuss it," Miranda returned flatly.

"But perhaps if you talk about it, it might set your mind at ease."

Miranda lifted her chin almost mutinously. "There's nothing to say that hasn't already been said."

Elaine's mouth turned down in the corners as she gave a heavy sigh. "I should think I am smart enough to know when you're lying to me."

"Don't worry." Miranda glanced out the window. "Whatever ails me should pass soon enough."

At least, that's what she hoped.

That night, as she sat down to dinner with her siblings and their families, Miranda shoved the food around her plate and realized that she had never felt more alone. She had always believed that she was immune to marriage, that she could be happy alone, but after spending the last few days with Anthony, her heart yearned to claim otherwise. Although she enjoyed the candles, and the evergreen boughs and holly berries that the hotel had set up to make a festive atmosphere in the public areas, when she entered her rooms, it was nothing but a reminder of the stark, empty house that awaited her when she returned to London.

She'd had to stop herself more than once from running back to him and begging his forgiveness. But then she reminded herself that it would be a mistake. She wanted to know that he wouldn't regress into that miserable shell he'd been in, the one who had been so close to ending it all. She wouldn't be able to leave with the fear that he might do something foolish and she was powerless to stop him. That was why she'd had to refuse him. If she thought he was truly sincere, she wouldn't hesitate to accept his hand. But knowing that he'd always struggled with these ideas, told her that there was still a long road ahead of him, and he might never reach the end of it.

"Miranda?"

She blinked at the sound of her name, and when she glanced at Jacob, she noted that he had a look of consternation on his face. A glance at Elaine showed that her expression mirrored that of their brother. She forced a smile. "I'm sorry. I fear I was woolgathering."

"Indeed. You seem to be doing that a lot lately." His voice was firm, like that of their father when he was about to deliver a stern lecture. She feared she was in for the same. Naturally, as the head of the household, Jacob likely assumed it was his responsibility, but she was well past the age of her majority, and made her own way, so he had no reason to tell her what to do. Nevertheless, she considered what he was about to say as the caring nature of an older sibling. "I realize that I made a mistake inviting Anthony to spend the holiday with us. I think it would have been best if I hadn't reintroduced him back into your life. I feel it was the wrong thing to do, and for that, I'm sorry for causing you further pain. Please believe that it wasn't my intention."

Miranda sat there, unsure of how to respond. She hadn't been expecting an apology, but she was grateful for the gesture. Thus, she replied truthfully. "I hold no regrets for seeing Anthony again, and I certainly don't hold you responsible. It was nice to see him, and I can return to London with the relief that he shall continue to heal."

Her brother inclined his head. "Very well said. I just hope that you will be able to enjoy the festivities with us this evening."

She smiled broadly. "I'm looking forward to it. And with all the free time I've had lately, you will be happy to know that I have nearly all the sketches I need for my next story. I believe only one remains, and I shall finish that tomorrow. What better way to celebrate the holiday than by capturing the innocence of a Christmas morning?"

"I think that's a lovely idea," Elaine chimed in, and gave Miranda an encouraging grin. "Someday, you shall be famous, dear sister. When you walk down the street, it shall be impossible to escape from all your adoring admirers!"

Miranda laughed. "I'm not so sure about that, but it is a way for me to do something I enjoy and live by my own means."

"And we are all very proud of you for it," Jacob said, and there was a murmured assent around the table.

It warmed Miranda's heart, and that was all she needed to remember in her darkest moments: she still had the people who cared most of all around her.

After dinner, Miranda started to return to her rooms to continue working on her watercolors, but she was stopped by Mr. Barbour in the hallway. "Terrance," she greeted him fondly. "I trust you and your fiancée are having a nice time in Cumbria?"

"Indeed," he replied somewhat distractedly. "I must speak with you on a most urgent matter." He glanced around and then took her hand and led her to a slight alcove, presumably out of the distance of prying eyes.

Warning bells sounded in Miranda's head, but she heeded them too late. Terrance had her trapped against the wall, his hands upon her face before she quite knew what he was about. "Terrance…"

"Shh. Don't speak. Just let me say what I have to." He placed his forehead on hers and kissed the side of her temple. "I have been in misery ever since I came to this place and saw you. I convinced myself I was going to be happy with Delia, but now I know it can never be. I have been fooling everyone, but I know the truth." He pulled back far enough to look deeply into her eyes. "My heart will always be yours. Is there any way at all that you might reconsider a life together with me? Dear Miranda, put me out of my misery and consent to be my wife."

Miranda blinked. She didn't know what to say. She had noticed the lingering glances he sent her way for a long time now, but just as she'd set aside her deeper emotions toward Anthony, she assumed that Terrance could do the same. She wished with all of her heart that she could grant his desires, but then she would be the one fooling everyone. She regarded him with empathy, hoping that he could read the regret in her gaze. "I'm sorry, Terrance, but my answer will always remain the same, because you see, like you, I shall always bear the cross of unrequited love. I don't want to hurt you by entering into a union that would eventually make us both miserable. Me, because you wouldn't be him, and you, because I could never fully allow my heart to engage with another the way I long for him."

He was still for a moment, and then he allowed his hands to slip away. A hard glint entered his gaze. "Is it the man you've been spending time with here? Mr. Gravehill?"

Miranda neither confirmed nor denied his claim, but the damning evidence in her silence was just as bad.

He stepped back. "I see." He lifted a brow. "I assume he's made you an offer then?"

Again, Miranda said nothing, because although Anthony had proposed, it wasn't the declaration of love she'd always yearned for.

His mouth kicked up at the corner, a look of reluctant acceptance filling his gaze. "I guess neither of us shall ever be truly happy in this life then." He bowed in a formal manner. "Goodbye, Miranda. I wish you nothing but the best life has to offer. I'm sure you will understand if I cease calling from this point on. It will be wise for both of us, I think."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode back down the hall.

Miranda exhaled a shaky breath when he departed. With trembling hands, she retrieved the key to her rooms. She shut the door and leaned against it, as she tried to draw a full breath. Tears filled her line of vision, causing everything to waver. She slowly slid down the length of the hard wood. By the time she'd slumped to the floor, the tears were falling in earnest. Heaving sobs, the feeling of a wasted future filled her. Had she just made a dreadful mistake by turning down Mr. Barbour's proposal for the last time? She had long admired him, and with his companionship, she had made it through the last few years of loss with his steady presence at her side. But now, she'd lost even that—all for a man who was tormented by his own demons, who might never be whole again.

Miranda buried her face in her hands and sat alone, while the storm washed over her. Sorrow poured through her soul until it felt as though it was being ripped from her body. Tomorrow, she would put on a brave face and partake of a joyous celebration of the season for her siblings and their families. She was determined not to ruin this holiday for them, even if she might wish for nothing more than this miserable season to end.

Once it was over, she could finally go back to London and hopefully, find a way to convince herself that this nightmare had never occurred.