Miranda's encounter with Mr Preston and its abrupt end left her in a haze of heightened awareness, breathless and her hands burning from his touch. The leaves of the hedge still trembled from where he had made his escape. She scrambled to pull herself together before Charlie and Tilly made their iminent reappearance, and she flitted about around the gazebo, fretting over what to do with the cakes and trying to expunge any evidence of his presence.
"Good god Miranda, what treats do you have there?" Charlie cried from behind her.
Tilly gasped in delight. "Is this a picnic?"
"Surprise!" She exclaimed as she spun around, hoping she didn't look too flustered. "I did not expect you back so soon. I thought a morning snack would be most refreshing, so I had the kitchen prepare us a little something..."
Charlie peered into the cake tin. "How marvellous! How did you smuggle them here?"
"A lady never tells," she said with a wink. She gulped hard as soon as their eyes were turned.
They descended upon the cake and immediately sang its praises. "It's delicious!", "lighter than a baby's conscience!"
After much chatter and thanks given to Miranda about the wonderful surprise, they made it back to Woolford. The whole morning was so emotionally taxing and exhilirating that she immediately claimed a headache and locked herself in her bedroom to recover. There was a mild pang of guilt for abandoning Tilly, but she promised herself to make it up later.
Alone, she crumpled into a heap on her bed. The emotions that had been stirred up within her were unfurling shyly, bubbling up to the surface and making themselves known. Their depth and sincerity astonished her. What was once a nebulous concept was all of a sudden very real and tangible, and while the future was as uncertain as could be, it failed to dampen her spirits. After all the misunderstandings and false starts, to find they had landed on the same page felt like a rare and precious thing, and she wondered if she might tip over and drown in it at any moment. The risk involved was great for sure, but the dizzying heights were immeasurable.
Her jangled nerves gave out in exhaustion and she soon fell asleep in earnest. She dreamt of floating through dense greenery as thick as treacle, guided by a warm hand, the taste of rose on her lips.
When she awoke, fuzzy headed and disoriented, she wondered if the entire morning had simply been a dream, but then she spotted her shawl draped over her chair in plain sight, a touchstone of certainty, and all felt right in that moment.
When she emerged for afternoon tea, Tilly was in fine spirits. "Is your headache better Miranda?" she cooed.
"Much better. I trust Charlie wasn't too bothersome this morning?" she asked, reaching for the teapot and pouring a cup for Tilly, then herself.
"Never! He is quite the delight. So knowledgeable. We spotted two barn swallows, so graceful in flight!"
"Charlie's nature is not agreeable to everyone, but his heart is good. I am so pleased you two get on so well."
"And you and I. I only regret not visiting sooner."
Miranda added milk to her cup and did not stir, watching it slowly bloom through her tea. She had considered a summer with Tilly to be a great burden an awfully short time ago, and now she was ashamed of her error in judgement, as she increasingly liked her very much.
She considered confiding in Tilly for a moment, the words lined up on her tongue, but she decided their friendship could not withstand such a loaded secret so soon. She stirred her tea and offered Tilly a plate of shortbread, golden squares dotted with candied orange peel, a specialty of their cook. "Then we have much time to make up. Biscuit?"
Thereafter, she dashed off a note to Miss Sutton, a frazzled scrawl in red ink.
Urgent news re: you know who. Talk soon.
—
When she broke the news to Miss Sutton that evening, Stevie let out a shriek that drew her maid and two footmen to her room.
Apologies were made and reapeated reassurances were given that she had been momentarily overcome and had not taken ill. Once everyone was ushered out. Stevie squealed into a pillow and kicked her legs with hushed delight, jostling Heather the kitten, who remained soundly asleep at the head of her bed. "Secret rendezvous with a gentleman! How romantic! Well I never Miranda, you are a dark horse. You must tell me everything. What happened? Any kissing?
"Stevie!" Miranda chastised her. "No we just talked... and held hands," she added in a whisper.
Stevie let out another high-pitched squeak and clapped her hands.
Miranda flopped back on the bed and gave Heather a scratch under the chin. "He is so lovely Stevie. Not like the others. I feel seen by him. For who I am. And the cake he made! The cake was extraordinary. So light and heady with fragrance..." she sighed happily.
"How odd for a gentleman to bake! But clearly he has an aptitude for it. Norman and I have yet to arrange the wedding breakast. Do you think he would be interested?"
The weddings in their village were usually modest affairs, even for the wealthy, and Stevie's would be no different. The ceremonies were held in the morning at the local church with a small number of guests, followed by a celebratory breakfast before the newlyweds were waved off on their honeymoon.
"Yes, I expect he must. You've chosen a date?" She'd been so caught up in her own unfolding drama that she'd almost forgotten Stevie's impending marriage.
She nodded. "The first reading of the banns is this Sunday, so only two weeks after that."
"Are you nervous?"
"A small amount, naturally, but mostly it feels... right. In fact I've never been so certain of anything," she declared.
"How nice that must be," Miranda said wistfully. Studying her friend, Stevie did appear perfectly serene, the picture of contentment. Confident but settled. Rock steady. Her rock...
"And then you shall be moving away," Miranda lamented, tears filling her eyes. "My dearest friend. You have been like a sister to me always."
They had played together since they were tiny, Stevie's boldness complementing Miranda's more cautious nature. Countless letters and secrets and jokes passed between them in these walls and gardens, a summation of a lifetime of friendship.
"Oh stop it or I shall cry too!" Stevie wailed. "Lucky for you I'll still be in the village."
"Not next door though."
Stevie covered her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I will always be here if you need me."
It was true they were blessed that Stevie would still be near and not across the country, but having taken her proximity for granted, the mere distance of a few hundred yards suddenly seemed a world away.
"Promise?"
"Always. All I ask in return is that you give me all the gossip," she said with a wicked smirk.
Miranda attacked her with a hug. "A small price to pay, Miss Sutton," she said, as they descended into giggles.
