It was her! Benjamin could never have imagined that he would encounter the beautiful woman from the dance again, and certainly not under these circumstances. However, there she stood, being presented to him by his father and new step-mother, no less.

"Benjamin, I'd like you to meet my very good friend, Miss Miranda Bailey" Francesca introduced.

"It is a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance. I don't see a glass in your hand, so I suppose my dress is safe," Miranda teased.

Benjamin's face turned a deep scarlet color, "Oh, you two have met before?" Sir Stuart asked.

"Once, at a ball we were both attending in Washington not long ago," she was only too happy to share, much to Benjamin's chagrin. He knew what he'd hear next. "I was being extremely careless and knocked right into Benjamin, causing him to lose his drink. It was very rude of me, especially as I think back on it, I never offered to replace your glass. Please forgive me," she addressed him with a twinkle in her eyes. Surprise filled him at her self-deprecating account and it was a moment before he could respond.

"It is I who must beg your forgiveness for my clumsiness and of course for ruining your lovely gown. I would be only too happy to replace it."

She dismissed the thought, "It was getting worn, so you saved me the trouble of storing it. Now Mr. Warren, Francesca has asked me to better acquaint you with Gloucester. Tell me, what have you already seen?"

"Please, call me Benjamin, and thank you for taking the time to show me around. When I arrived the other night, it was quite dark, so I didn't take in the landscape, or much else for that matter. My father and Francesca have been kind enough to give a tour of the estate and we did visit the parsonage and a few neighbors."

"We were hoping you might show him the town square and a few picturesque landscapes as Benjamin's quite a painter," Francesca offered.

Miranda nodded, "Of course, we could walk to town now, if you like."

Benjamin quickly agreed and the two said farewell to Sir Stuart and Fran before heading out. Having more time to admire her, he realized she was even more stunning than his initial impression at the ball. Inwardly sighing, he prayed not to make himself into anymore of a bumbling fool.

Miranda tried to secretly study her companion. He was certainly tall, probably one of the tallest men she had met or maybe because she was so short, but that was the only remarkable thing about him, except perhaps his eyes. They were brown and seemed kind. Though she would never call him handsome, Benjamin was assuredly not homely. He was just an ordinary man, or rather boy. Though Miranda was a mere two years younger, it was enough to make her feel they we're not the right age apart.

Ever protective of her good friend, she wanted to know his thoughts on Fran. Trying for subtly, she asked, "Are you finding yourself well settled at Hastings Hall?"

"Oh yes, it's very grand. Some of the architecture reminds me of our earlier home in Colchester. And of course it's wonderful to see father again, after such a long time away," he answered. She was in the midst of forming another delicate question to address her real concern when he continued," It's especially wonderful to see him so happy with Francesca. It's been a long time since my mother passed away and it wounded us both greatly." His voice grew soft as he spoke of his mother, but with more conviction he said, "He deserves the best and I believe he's found it with Francesca. She's extremely kind and sincere. Though I've already had an amazing mother, I feel doubly fortunate to have another."

Relief flooded Miranda. Understanding the situation could easily become difficult for both Fran and Benjamin if they harbored ill feelings, she was comforted to discover this would probably not be the case.

"How about yourself? Have you always lived in Gloucester? Do you have any siblings?" he questioned.

"I am indeed a Gloucester native and unfortunately, I'm an only child. I used to dream of having an older sister, though. She would indulge me and play all day, teach me how to do my hair, and of course hand all of her clothes down," she mused. "It's funny, I always thought of Francesca as a mother figure, I too lost mine, though I don't remember her, but I suppose in many ways, Fran was also the older sister I never had."

"You must miss her a great deal, now that she is at Hastings Hall," Benjamin queried, his eyes softening.

Something about his understanding voice undid her. She couldn't hide it. Too long had she tried to deny the truth to everyone, including herself. Knowing her features weren't even trying to cooperate, Miranda gave up and admitted her pain. "Very much…" but she didn't trust herself to go on.

"When she's not available, what do you turn to?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"What or who, I should say. Do you lose yourself in a book, or needlepoint? Is it a cousin or friend you spend more time with?" he clarified.

She sighed, "The truth is, though I've lived here my whole life, Fran is my only companion. It's always been a mystery. Books, writing or painting prove to be decent distractions, though."

"Ah, painting is a passion of mine too. It is interesting, though, about friends. Have you ever discussed it with Fran?"

"Of course, she's tried to help, but unfortunately to no avail. I suppose you have an idea?" she laughed.

He was beginning to wonder what, exactly he was trying to prove, but there was no retreating now. "One theory is that perhaps, these potential friends are jealous," he quickly said.

"Jealous? What exactly would they be jealous of?"

Her voice was definitely raising, but he couldn't tell if it was out of wonder, or anger. It was their second meeting and already he was making a mess of things, again. "There is of course your status, intelligence and kindness, which Fran had told me of and…well…your beauty," he finished in a rush.

Though Miranda had not spent any time previously imagining this encounter with Benjamin, had she, it never would have been like this. How had he managed to bring the discussion to her, or more accurately, her suffering and insecurities. And the things he said, the neighbors jealous of her?

True she had heard compliments often enough on the attributes he had mentioned, but it was always from biased loved ones, like her father and Francesca. If she were fully honest with herself, she could admit that there was some truth to her beauty, but surely people wouldn't discriminate based on that? When she had never been anything but friendly, would they spurn her because she was competition? Was it possible?

Miranda decided to contemplate his theory at a later time. Focusing on her mission, she pointed out several locations that she had often used when painting landscapes. As they continued towards town, she learned quite a bit about his travels and studies after plying him with many questions. His background and philosophies proved very intriguing and kept her so engrossed in conversation, time passed rapidly. At the conclusion of the day, Miranda was surprised to realize she had thoroughly enjoyed herself and readily agreed to meet with him the following day.