The weather was stormy that night, and as the rain battered down, Lady Penelope and Miranda sat down to their needlework after supper. Penny was working on a tapestry of the queens of England, while Miranda had devised a pattern that was quite rude when viewed upside-down.

"How was your afternoon tea with Miss Sutton?"

Miranda chose her words carefully. "Very pleasant. She gave me a lesson in the language of the fan."

Penny clapped her hands together in delight. "How marvellous! Did it go well? Was the viscount there?" Her earnest delight caught Miranda off-guard, and though she bristled at the mention of the viscount, she could not bear to tell the truth.
"There were a few mishaps," she said, selecting her words with care, "but I say we certainly caught the eye of some."

"Well, you will surely improve. Oh! You can put your new skills to good use during the ball next week! I've put in so much effort planning already."

Miranda's heart sank. How hideous, she was now going to need extra lessons from Stevie. Her reply was hesitant. "I don't know if that will be necessary. It is Tilly's night after all," she offered. "Besides, I thought it was to be a reasonably small and intimate affair."

"Yes, it will be quite modest," Penny said, shifting in her seat. She was a terrible liar. "Only one hundred guests."

"One hundred guests? That's practically the entire village!"

"Quite. I wouldn't consider anything less for the daughter of an Earl."

"Oh forgive me, I did not realise her majesty had deigned to bless us with her presence," she said with mock reverence. "My understanding was that Tilly wanted an escape from her hectic social schedule in London."

"Darling, stop overreacting, and none of that sarcastic humour of yours please. A gathering of this size will be nothing to Tilly. It's only one ball and then she can spend the rest of her summer at her leisure."

The next morning saw the sun break through the storm clouds, bringing the promise of early summer. Miranda decided to take advantage of the fine weather by doing some reading in the gazebo, and she was upstairs perusing the library when she noticed a small carriage outside the window.

At that moment, her mother rushed past and ordered her downstairs. "Our new neighbour has called! Come quickly, don't be rude." Goodness, that was quick, she thought. Charlie had only speculated on the possibility of a new resident a few days earlier, and she had forgotten to question her parents any further.

There was no mirror nearby, so she smoothed her hair and dress and hoped she looked at least somewhat presentable. As she hurried towards the chatter emanating from the drawing room, she was surprised that the new voice sounded familiar somehow. Without thinking any further, she pushed open the door and nearly fainted at the unlikely scene before her.

Exchanging pleasantries with her parents was the gentleman from the assembly rooms.

It was horror that washed over her first, followed by embarrassment and a tiny thrill of delight. She would later reflect on the implications of this development with tentative hope, but for now, her only thought was to escape.

She tried to slip out the room unnoticed, but it was too late. "Ah, there you are darling," her father said, as he ushered her in and led her to the gentleman. "And this is our daughter, Miranda."

She could only imagine his reaction while she attempted to avoid all eye contact. When she finally had to look at him for the sake of politeness, she was stunned to find him composed and entirely unruffled.

"Miranda, this is Mr Gareth Preston."