The Last Time We Met - By Lily Lang Page 0,12
and the clock read nearly eleven o’clock. In the clear gray morning, the events of the previous night seemed as fantastical and absurd as a nightmare, and like fear inspired by a nightmare, the paralyzing anguish of seeing Jason again no longer seemed as ungovernable or as all-consuming. Fortified by the first full night’s sleep she’d had in weeks, if not months, she shoved aside any lingering traces of emotion and focused instead on practicalities.
She slid off the bed and onto her feet. The door swung open and she glanced up, wondering with a quick indrawn breath if it was Jason.
But it was merely the maid, Harriet, wearing a very large lace cap that nearly covered her entire face and carrying a tray laden with toast, jam and tea.
“Good morning, miss,” mumbled Harriet, keeping her face lowered. “I was sent up here to make sure you were up. Madame Beaumont will be arriving soon.”
Miranda blinked. “Madame Beaumont?”
The maid nodded and set the tray down on the bedside table, still without looking at Miranda. Her hands trembled rather badly, and she sloshed tea in the saucer as she handed it to Miranda.
“Mr. Blakewell said I was to tell you you’re to have a few new day gowns made up.”
Miranda’s heart clenched at Jason’s name. She wondered if she would ever be able to hear it without that sickening sense of loss, but shoved the thought away immediately. She had more pressing matters to consider.
Aloud, she merely said, “I see.” Since he had ordered her only dress burnt and the one she still wore was utterly indecent, she supposed she ought to be grateful. Turning back to the maid, she said, “Thank you, Harriet.”
The girl nodded, curtsied and left.
When Miranda had eaten and the tray had been taken away, Harriet showed Madame Beaumont into the chamber, trailing two sewing girls bearing a very large trunk between them. The trunk, when opened, produced a dazzling array of gowns that made Miranda blink rapidly.
Neither Madame nor her assistants seemed to think there was anything odd about fitting a lady for gowns in a bedchamber above Blakewell’s. Was this blasé attitude simply their form of discreet professionalism, or did Jason habitually ask them to outfit women in his club? She hoped rather fervently that the latter scenario was untrue.
Jason, however, had very definite ideas about the gowns in question, and these ideas did not coincide with her own.
“But Mr. Blakewell said mademoiselle was to have the best,” protested Madame Beaumont, when Miranda pointed out it was unnecessary for a day gown to have both glass beading and fox fur banding the hem.
“Mr. Blakewell is not the one who is going to wear this dress,” said Miranda, adding when Madame held up a second gown, “and one will be quite sufficient, thank you.”
Madame Beaumont threw up her hands in a gesture of Gallic despair. “But Mr. Blakewell wished to have a half dozen made up, at the very least!”
“If Mr. Blakewell wishes them made up, then Mr. Blakewell can wear them himself,” said Miranda. Accepting at least one gown from Jason was inevitable, but she had no intention of accepting more than one. “This will be perfectly sufficient for my needs.”
When she had finally persuaded Madame to depart, leaving behind only a simple dove gray day gown and a navy pelisse, Miranda dressed and pinned her hair without bothering to summon Harriet. Then, tidy and composed, she set out to search for Jason.
In truth, after the painful scene of the night before, the thought of facing him again made her stomach clench unpleasantly, but she told herself not to be a ninny. Jason had promised to help William, and she needed to know what steps he had taken to ensure her brother’s safety. Though her brother ought to be safe enough in Middlesex, she was uncertain how long he would be willing to remain there, and she had a sudden, unsettling vision of him setting out for London to search for her.
The best way to deal with Jason this morning would be to act as though absolutely nothing untoward had happened the night before. While she had agreed to his outrageous and insulting proposition, and permitted him to kiss her in the most scandalous fashion, she had no intention of encouraging his bad behavior. Whether or not she wanted him to kiss her again was entirely beside the point. For now, her first priority was William.
At the top of the steps, Miranda encountered a hall boy