Miranda read, then reread the letter, committing her sister’s words to memory as she lovingly caressed the paper. Her heart rejoiced in knowing she would soon see her, yet she wondered how such an arrangement could be made before her true identity was made known. Wouldn’t it seem suspicious to the staff if the countess visited her sister, the governess? Miranda gave her head a slight shake. If Liliah and her husband had been so cautious thus far, they certainly knew how to address further matters as well.
A smile tipped her lips as she considered the truth that Liliah was happy in her marriage to the Earl of Heightfield. She hadn’t expected any less, but to hear it from her own hand was a blessing. Liliah was a rare spirit, and Miranda was thankful she had found her love match in the earl. It would be a great boon to be able to further her acquaintance with her brother-in-law. She hoped his intentional neglect in divulging information to the viscount wouldn’t affect his friendship, but as she thought it, a wary notion flickered through her mind.
Not only had she never met the Viscount Kilpatrick, but he hadn’t any clue of her identity. Would he be kind? While she didn’t think her sister would approve of her taking the position in his house if he was suspect of a violent nature, she still felt a shiver of trepidation run the length of her spine. She set the missive down on the small table, then glanced back at it. Dare she keep it?
Reluctantly, she stood and carried the missive to the low-burning fire.
No chances.
With a flick of her wrist, she sent the missive to the coals, watching the fire lick at the words and consume them.
It was symbolic.
No chances, no looking back.
Move forward.
And pray the past didn’t somehow catch up to her.
For certainly, if it did, she would burn as well.
