"How do you do, Miss Hartford?" Mr Preston asked warmly. His straight-laced manner melted when he spoke to her, and she was instantly put at ease. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all.
"All the better for meeting you sir," she replied. She suddenly recalled her conversation with Charlie, and his note from Miss Parker. "Forgive me, I was under the impression our new neighbour was a lady."
"Miranda!" Penny hissed in admonishment.
A flash of distress crossed his face. "Well, I hope I am a satisfactory substitute."
"Yes, you'll do tolerably well," she said with a smile. She was content to continue with the charade that this was their first encounter, but his next retort extinguished that notion.
"I trust all is well in the spirit world today?" he asked with a slight smirk.
"I do beg your pardon?" Miranda replied, aghast at his rashness. "You must have confused me for another," she lied, panicking while she grew increasingly flustered.
"You surely cannot have met?" Penny asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"We have not," Miranda insisted. "I do not claim knowledge of any other worlds, spiritual or otherwise."
Mr Preston flinched at this rebuff, but he remained amiable. "I see. I must be mistaken."
Miranda desperately tried to change the topic. "I trust your journey here was pleasant?"
"It was most satisfactory. I am saddened I did not make my move sooner."
"Mr Preston is the new landlord of The Hamilton Lodge," Mr Hartford said.
"How wonderful," Miranda said. The old lodge had sat in a state of disrepair for as long as she could remember. "Are you restoring it yourself?"
"Yes. It is in better shape than expected and should be functioning soon."
The rest of their exchange went more smoothly, and its subsequent course revealed that Mr Preston was the youngest of three bothers from Norfolk. His modest fortunes had taken an unexpected turn when he came into possession of the lodge, which had been willed to him by a childless uncle. By a happy coincidence, an old acquaintance also owned the empty cottage, and he had suddenly found himself with a new life laid out before him.
Once they felt satisfactorily introduced, Mr Hartford extended an invitation. "Say, we are holding a ball next Friday for our niece, would you care to join us?"
"Yes you must!" Penny exclaimed. "It would be a fine chance for you to meet everyone in the village. And our niece Miss Ruteledge is very well connected indeed!"
Mr Preston caught Miranda's eye for a moment before he replied, "That is very kind of you. I would be delighted."
They bid their goodbyes soon after. The moment he was out of earshot, Penny became hysterical.
"What on earth have you and Miss Sutton been up to? Spiritual world? Have you been dabbling in the occult?! Do you wish to be burned at the stake?!"
"Oh mother! Do not be ridiculous," she exclaimed. "You may accuse me of many things, but witchcraft is not one of them."
Penny sighed. "Such a shame his prospects are poor. It's a great misfortune being the third son of an untitled family. There's barely anything left to go around once your turn arrives. But isn't he dashing?"
"I suppose so," Miranda murmured, mostly to herself.
"Surely he should be commended for making the most of his fortunes. Overseeing the lodge is perfectly respectable," Mr Hartford chimed in.
"Oh yes, it is an honest living to be sure," Penny conceded. "I say, wouldn't it be fortuitous if Tilly took a liking to him? Lord knows Belinda would be furious at her daughter lowering herself!" she cackled.
Miranda took great offence at this. "I can only presume that Aunt Belinda has nothing to fear, if Tilly is as supercilious as you."
"You are a strain on my nerves Miranda. What am I to do with you?"
As soon as she was able to escape, Miranda put paid to her plans for the day and headed straight for the Sutton estate.
"He's moved in next door!" she wailed upon seeing Stevie, who was sat on the sofa brushing a bundle of fur on her lap. Heather the kitten had made a full recovery from her sickly start in life and was curled up in a ball, purring happily.
"Who?" Stevie asked, barely paying attention.
"The gentleman from the assembly rooms! The one I hit with a fan and spoke nonsense to about poltergeists! He's the new tenant next door!" she cried.
Stevie bolted upright and handed a yowling Heather to Miranda. "No, you cannot be serious! All those people in the assembly rooms and you took aim at your neighbour?"
"He paid a visit this morning and I've only worsened his poor impression of me. And now he'll be attending Tilly's ball next week!"
"I did not know you could care so much for a gentleman's opinion," Stevie mused.
"Nor did I, but something about him intrigues me," Miranda said, sitting down next to her. "It was quite vexing, he was not surprised to see me again at all. It was as if he knew I would be there."
Stevie raised her eyebrows. "Well there's only one person who could have told him. Who's the biggest gossip in town, apart from your mother?"
They cornered Clive at the assembly rooms that afternoon.
"Tell us everything you know about Mr Preston," Miranda ordered.
"I would not betray another gentleman's confidence," he replied, with a glint in his eye.
Miranda pushed a shilling towards him. "For your troubles."
"But then again, a tongue is easily loosened," he said, pocketing the coin.
They first gave him a summary of the morning's events.
"A poor impression of Miranda?" He laughed. "Oh no, he thought your fan debacle yesterday was quite the amusement. I'd venture to say he is quite taken by you."
"Is that so?" Stevie asked slyly.
"And why do you say that?" Miranda demanded.
"It would be uncouth of me to reveal all a man's secrets. Don't worry, I spoke very well of you," he said with a wink.
"Clive!" Miranda felt the mortification would never end.
After the ladies had left, Mr Clive Evans justified that by not relaying his entire conversation with Mr Preston, he had not betrayed Mr Preston's confidence. And after all, he had not yet revealed that they were more deeply acquainted than either Miranda or Stevie knew. He was rather delighted at this turn of events…
"Clive, who were those ladies?" Mr Preston had asked. His countenance was reserved but there was a note of wistfulness in his voice.
"That was Miss Hartford who lost her fan, and her friend Miss Sutton. I expect you will become well acquainted with the Hartfords soon."
Mr Preston choked on his drink. "I beg your pardon?"
"She is your new neighbour to be," he said innocently.
Mr Preston composed himself. "Oh, you mean she is of Woolford Park? Yes, of course. I intend to leave them a card at the earliest convenience."
"Lady Hartford will be delighted to have someone new in her social circle."
"As will I. I was not aware they had a daughter. Miss-"
"Miranda," Clive finished helpfully. "Yes, she is their only child. Although I hear Lady Hartford's niece will soon be joining them for the summer. She's a socialite from London. I expect you'll receive an invite to their ball soon."
His eyes lit up at this last piece of information. "I do not wish to presume anything."
Clive was feeling awfully proud of himself when Mr Preston wandered in looking glum.
"What's wrong?"
"I fear I offended Miss Hartford this morning."
Clive sighed and poured him a drink. This was more difficult than he had anticipated. "Have a seat..."
