Chapter Seventeen
Miranda watched the viscount flee from the room. There wasn’t any other way to describe it. Iris met her gaze with a confused one of her own, then hitched a shoulder and followed the path of the viscount, though at a much more moderate pace.
When they had both made it into the hall, Iris seemed to glance about, then turned to Miranda. “Did that seem odd to you as well?” Her gaze flickered farther down the hall, then back to Miranda.
“Yes. It was indeed.”
“Do you . . .” Iris paused. “Do you think my talking about not eating the cows offended him? I rather thought Scotsmen preferred sheep.”
Miranda gave Iris a swift smile. “No, I think he’s just unsettled.” It was her best guess, and if she were assuming further, she was quite certain he was more than a little put out with earlier discoveries. He’d been quite standoffish and aloof since her sister and brother-in-law had paid their visit. It was an assumption, but she felt confident she was right. If she were to speculate further, he was regretting his earlier scandalous behavior with her.
Which was a pity.
She hadn’t regretted it for a moment.
“What makes you so certain?” Iris asked.
Miranda had to think back for her answer. It was rather specific. She decided it would be prudent to have a frank conversation with Iris. After this afternoon, when Iris had seen Liliah and Miranda together, she was owed some sort of explanation. Or, at the very least, it would be polite to offer one.
“Come, Iris. Let us take a walk. The evening air will do us both good. It had been a busy day, and surely you have some questions.”
Iris nodded. “Indeed, but I wasn’t wanting to pry.”
Miranda gave her a wry expression.
“I’m learning! May I at least have credit for not asking immediately? I’m quite proud of myself that I thought before speaking, and then I waited further.” She gave a little tilt to her chin with pride.
Miranda gave a soft chuckle. “I suppose you’re correct. Forgive me for not offering accolades where they are most certainly due.” Miranda bowed her head. “That was very good of you, Iris. And I’m proud of the progress you are making.”
“Thank you,” Iris replied cheekily.
They descended the front stairs of Kilmarin and walked out onto the gravel circular drive. Miranda chose a path that would wind around the house and lead to the back maze, giving them more than ample room to walk and talk while they did so.
As they passed a small bush blooming with white flowers, Miranda turned to Iris. “You’re probably wondering about our guests today.”
Iris met her gaze. “I did have a certain amount of curiosity.”
Miranda grinned. “How delicately put.”
“I was quite proud of that.” Iris grinned mischievously.
“That was my sister and brother-in-law, Lord and Lady Heightfield.”
Iris gave her a slow nod, her expression full of questions and slight confusion.
“You’re wondering why, if my sister has the title of lady, I am relegated to being a governess.” Miranda supplied the words.
Iris nodded, remaining silent.
Miranda paused, considering how to answer the question while still keeping as much of her secret as possible. She trusted Iris; it was not that she felt her word of silence on the matter would be questionable. It was rather that she questioned the wisdom of disclosure. After a moment of debate, she followed her instincts. “Do you remember when I spoke of never knowing my father?”
“Yes.”
“That was true, yet at the same time misleading. It implied that my father was no longer among us but, in fact, he is very much alive. What I meant by such a statement is that while my father is still alive, I do not know him. And he, as much as he’d like to think otherwise, does not know me. He’s a proud man, and that isn’t always a fault. To a certain extent, we all are proud, but in him it is the sole element of his character. Every aspect of his life is to feed his vanity, and the result is a man who is hard, cold, and commanding in everything. My sister and I fled London because we were going to be matched very inappropriately. I’ll not give the details, but it was my sister’s bravery that spurred my own, and in a roundabout way, it led me here. But because of my . . .” She paused, thinking of the right word. “Fear of my father, and his determination to keep me under his rule, it was imperative that I remain silent on the matter, assume a different identity and position.”
Iris blinked at her, then tilted her head.
Miranda expected a great many questions, and she was prepared to answer them to the best of her ability.
