Mirabelle looked from Ken to Emily. She knew that Ken was concerned. Should she tell him that Emily seemed to be settling in nicely? Best not. She might need another boon.
But she had so many other questions: Why did he get so upset every time Somersworth was mentioned? Why had he engaged in another bet during croquet and what made him wish for yet another?
Was he enjoying their interactions? Heat filled her cheeks at the idea of him liking her company.
Mirabelle gave herself a shake. She could not get distracted. She had to be accepted by the women before she could be a successful wife to a man. The women were the ones who seemed to recognize her as an impostor. But the attention from Ken filled her with a breathless excitement,
an emotion that she quickly quelled.
Or at least, she tried. Because her reasons for wanting society’s accolades was far more important than her own enjoyment.
She’d not allow her family to continue to live in the shadows. She’d help bring in the light. It was as simple as that. And as complicated.
Because as she looked over at Ken, she had the urge to abandon her quest. Anna would surely be the glittering jewel of the Smith family. Perhaps Mirabelle could just marry a suitable man and be done. It suited her better anyhow.
But Ace had never taken the easy path in providing for his family. Not once. And it wasn’t fair for her to do so either.
Everything she learned about being a proper debutante, she’d teach to her sister. How could she learn if she didn’t participate?
She’d help her family the way he had. Though, she had to confess, winning the baron’s help had proven not only usefully but fun and…
Her breath caught as she looked at him through her lashes. He lounged in his seat, watching the scenery out the window.
Even like this, he made her pulse beat faster. Her thumb pressed to her opposite wrist and she could feel the erratic beat of it under the pad of her finger.
What would they wager next?
She glanced out the window and caught a horse grazing in the field. She smiled. “Lord Boxby?”
His gaze instantly shifted to hers as he sat up straighter.
She nodded toward the animal in the field. “How many do you think we’ll see from here to Reston?” It was the village they’d chosen to stop in for the evening.
“I don’t know…” But then his eyes lit as he considered. “Twenty.”
She shook her head. “I say fifteen.”
Her brother gave her a curious glance. “What are you two on about?”
But she waved him away. It was an idle question and not worth answering.
“Closest wins?” Ken asked, one side of his mouth quirking up in a rakish grin.
She gave a quick nod. The boon could be decided later. She tied the curtain back, prepared to spend the day winning another treasure from the baron.
* * *
Boxby laughedto himself as the carriage pulled up to the inn. He’d won. Twenty-one horses had been counted on the trip to Reston.
Better, the day had been entertaining rather than dreary. Mirabelle’s simple diversion and warm company had been a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend the afternoon.
He supposed it hadn’t been an illicit evening at a gaming hell followed by the carnal company of some unknown woman.
Nor was a debauched tour of the continent, filled with exotic liquor and loose women.
He frowned as Ace handed the ladies from the carriage. Why did Mirabelle’s friendly banter hold more appeal than the intimate relations with another female? And what of his plan to leave?
Ace and Emily passed him as he offered his arm to Mirabelle. She slid her hand in his. “We’ve yet to discuss your boon.”