Miranda gave a silent sigh of relief at the appearance of a distraction. Perhaps Iris would forget the question.
Miranda thanked the maid and said they would serve themselves. “How do you wish your tea this afternoon, Iris?” Miranda asked. Early, she had learned Iris didn’t simply take her tea the same way each time, but tended to cater it to her mood.
“Cream and sugar today, please,” Iris answered.
Miranda poured the amber tea into the china cups, watching as the steam swirled above it. The aroma was bitter and sweet all at once, so much like life. The cream lightened the tea and halted the swirling steam as soon as it was added to the cup. After dropping one sugar cube, Miranda carefully stirred the liquid and set the spoon to the side before handing it to Iris.
“You make serving tea look lovely. How do you do that? Everything you do is graceful,” Iris added just before taking a sip of tea.
“Thank you,” Miranda answered. Though she wasn’t sure how serving tea could appear graceful in the least, it was still a kind word from Iris. “I’m simply doing what everyone else does when pouring tea.”
“Yes, but . . . I’m not sure, you make it look effortless. It’s the same as when you dance. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to learn it, which is daunting.”
“I have a few more years’ experience,” Miranda answered, pouring her own tea and adding a small splash of cream. The steam swirled above her white china cup and she inhaled the sweet scent before taking a sip.
“I’m sure a hundred years’ more experience for me still wouldn’t make it stick,” Iris replied wryly. “But I digress. Tell me, when did you lose your father?”
Drat.Miranda didn’t wish to lie; she hated it. After all, hadn’t her father lied enough for them both? Why add to it? She took a fortifying breath. “I never really knew my father.” She answered honestly, hoping it wouldn’t invite more questions.
“I see,” Iris replied. “Well, it is a tragedy to be without one’s parents. But I will say it is . . . soothing to know I’m not alone in my grief.”
“You are certainly not alone. And I’m thankful that we have each other. I realize that I can be exacting, but in the end, I only wish the best for you, Iris. Please know that.”
Iris’s eyes turned glassy and she looked away. “Thank you. Forgive me for my stubborn nature. My frustration isn’t aimed at you but closer. I aim it at myself.”
“And such an action will only serve to defeat you as well. You are a very strong young lady, and in that you will be either celebrated or shunned if you don’t manage that strength properly. But you will. It just takes time.”
“And dancing lessons,” Iris replied, gaining some of her cheeky behavior back.
“Many, many dancing lessons,” Miranda said, chuckling softly.
“Speaking of dancing, I’ve never seen a gentleman quite so . . . broad as Lord Kilpatrick.” Iris leaned forward. “Tell me, are all the gentlemen in London like that?”
A shiver of appreciation traveled down her spine at the memory of the viscount. Never had an introduction to a gentleman had such an effect on her, and she’d been introduced to quite a few. “No, most are far less . . . imposing.”
“Good heavens, all I could think of was that I can’t even dance with you and you’re of my height, how will I ever master dancing with a man that tall!” Iris giggled, setting down her empty teacup.
Miranda grinned. “It isn’t as difficult as you make it sound. You’ll see.”
“Do you think he’d be willing to let us practice with him?” Iris asked, tilting her head thoughtfully.
Miranda almost choked on the sip of tea she’d taken. The thought of dancing with the viscount was both thrilling and terrifying. “I’m not sure. We can . . . ask,” she answered, albeit reluctantly.
“Perhaps.” Iris twisted her lips. “But not anytime soon. I need to master the steps first. Wouldn’t want to hurt his toes.”
“Simply mine,” Miranda replied dryly.
“You’re accustomed to my abuse,” Iris said teasingly.
“Sadly, yes,” Miranda replied, shaking her head. “Iris, why don’t we take the afternoon off? You’ve worked hard all day, and I’m certain tonight we’ll be dining with the viscount. You’ll want to wear something appropriate, and it will be a good opportunity to practice table conversation and manners.”
Iris sighed. “I was quite thrilled till you mentioned dinner. I suppose there’s nothing to be done to change it?”
“I’d think not.”
“Then I suppose I’ll be happy with my freedom this afternoon, however short lived.”
“Unless you’ve changed your mind—“
