Somehow she was angry. This wonderful, beautiful thing had happened and she couldn’t feel happy about it. Obviously, Byron had been planning to propose. They’d been tiptoeingaround the question for weeks. And just because his sister was an incorrigible, overbearing shrew, he had to go and propose in a fit of pique.
Truth to tell, were Mira in the same position, she probably would have done the same. Anything to get his sister off their back. It was exhausting to be under someone’s constant judgment and it had been a great relief to finally say what she really thought.
At the same time, she felt beastly about how their conversation had ended. There was no telling how Mary’stête-à-têtewith Wilburn Treadway had gone, but the tears in her eyes when Mira came into the drawing room suggested it had been painful. And then to have that awful confrontation with Byron, to have everything brought up all over again, must have compounded her distress.
Her future sister-in-law had been in love, engaged, and then forbidden from marrying. Mira couldn’t begin to imagine the pain Mary had felt.
The anger bled away and she came back to herself, staring at the mirror. Maybe it didn’t matter how Byron had proposed. Though, it would have made her life easier had he given her a ring. She opened her jewelry box and sifted through it, hoping to find a ring that Walker wouldn’t recognize. She didn’t usually wear rings, so perhaps it was an easier prospect than she was making it out to be.
She chose a simple band with a ruby on it and slipped it onto her left ring finger. It felt strange, foreign even. But as far as anyone was concerned, she and Byron were engaged, so she needed to make a show of it.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
Liza poked her head in, her face reflected in the mirror. “Byron is downstairs. He mentioned that you were going to visitMaureen today?”
Mira tucked a loose strand of hair into her updo. “We’re leaving after breakfast.”
“Have you talked to Aunt Eleanor about it? I’m not sure Walker or I are allowed to chaperone you anymore after we returned from our walk on Wednesday without you.”
Mira spun on the seat, facing her. “I don’t think we’ll need a chaperone.” She lifted her hand.
Somehow, Liza’s gasp made the engagement real.
***
Byron and Walker were already in thedining room when they came down. Liza was a bouncing bundle of nerves since Mira had told her Walker didn’t know yet.
The men stood as they entered. Byron took Mira’s hand and moved to kiss the back of it, pausing when he noticed the ring. He raised an eyebrow and she just smiled.
“So what’s the adventure of the day?” Walker asked. “Surely a visit to Henrietta Street with both of you is more than a social call.”
Mira glanced over at Mrs. Renaldi and Aunt Eleanor. Her brother should know better than to hint at detective work in front of his future family. She didn’t know how they would react to their daughter being even remotely involved with it. She kept her expression neutral and focused on the eggs in front of her.
“I thought Mr. Sherard might be able to decipher that bit of sheet music Miss Harris demonstrated for Liza and me last Sunday.”
“It sounded more like a jumble of notes than actual music,” Liza said. “I doubt finding the right key will improve anything.”
“There might be some underlyingsecretto the music,” Mira said, hoping her brother would understand that they shouldn’t speak so openly.
“Yes,” Byron said. “And that reminds me of a different sort of secret.”
“Oh?” Liza said, leaning forward, her eye on Mira’s ring. Walker, as usual, was oblivious. It didn’t particularly matter, though, as Davenguard’s butler, Thorebourne, stepped in, interrupting the flow of conversation. “A gentleman at the door, madam. Another Mr. Sherard.”
“Show him in, then,” Mrs. Renaldi said.
Thorebourne bowed and left to do just that.
“Wasn’t Castel in London?” Walker asked.
“That was my understanding.” Byron dabbed his frowning mouth with his napkin.
Castel strode in and considered the group. His shoulders lowered by a fraction when he locked eyes with Byron. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I need to speak with my brother.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Renaldi said.
“In private?” Byron asked.
