Read Online Glimmer of Hope by Sarah M. Eden - Free Book Online

your guests.”
    “I would think breaking the monotony of the day would be welcome at any hour,” Miranda countered.
    “As hostess, it falls to you to see that all things are done properly.”
    Carter was grateful Mother made her verbal corrections in private. He’d already confessed to Hartley more of the dysfunctional nature of his marriage than he’d planned to. He didn’t want the rest of the guests to realize how strained the situation truly was.
    “A picnic held during nuncheon would be im proper?” Miranda asked.
    Carter looked up from his book at the hint of defiance he thought he caught in Miranda’s tone. Mother must have heard it as well—her eyebrows arched in a look of disapproval most of the ton could have identified. Carter enjoyed hearing it despite himself. Miranda used to have more backbone.
    “Far be it from me, Miranda, to overstep myself.” Mother laid her hand over her heart, looking hurt by Miranda’s tone. “I know I am but a guest in this home.”
    “Of course you are not—”
    “For the sake of my son and the family name, I am simply attempting to guide you through what must be an overwhelming situation,” Mother continued. “ I am not one to run from my responsibilities.”
    That remark was far too pointed to be overlooked. Mother’s obvious reference to Miranda’s flight three years earlier could only complicate an already tense situation. This was exactly the reason the past was being kept tucked away.
    “Miranda.” Carter rose and crossed the room to where the two women were seated opposite one another. “Why is it that you feel the picnic ought to be held at nuncheon? Have you a pressing appointment?”
    She didn’t look up at him but shook her head no.
    There had to be a reason for her insistence, but she offered no explanation.
    “Could you at least tell us why it is so important for the picnic to be held earlier in the day?” Carter tried another approach. She wasn’t being terribly cooperative. He meant to maintain the peace one way or another.
    Miranda rose rather abruptly to her feet, her color a little high but otherwise appearing calm and collected. “I am hostess here, am I not, Carter?” she asked.
    “Of course you are, Miranda.” Technically , anyway. Mother was the one actually holding everything together.
    “Then shouldn’t I be permitted to dictate the schedule?” Still a mild, even voice.
    “All of this is simply a fit of pique?” Mother asked, her tone revealing her exasperation.
    “I didn’t say that,” Miranda countered, crossing toward the tall, diamond-paned window. Light flurries fluttered just beyond the glass, though Carter doubted Miranda was actually watching the weather.
    Carter pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, telling himself to be patient. He crossed to where Miranda stood. “If Mother says the picnic ought to be at teatime, then that is when it ought to be. Mother is right about these things.”
    She kept her gaze on the window. “Is it so impossible that I could be right?” Miranda asked in a tight voice.
    “She is doing you a great favor.”
    “By contradicting every decision I make?” He saw her jaw tense and realized she was very close to losing her self-imposed air of tranquility. Something in him wanted to see her crack. Once, Miranda had been full of life and energy, not this shell of humanity that had drifted through the house the past few days. He’d rather see her angry than emotionally dead.
    “She is a viscountess,” Carter said.
    “And who am I, Carter?” She looked up at him then, and Carter was taken aback by the hurt he saw in her eyes. “Aren’t I a viscountess as well?”
    He knew his mistake then. He had, without realizing it, given his mother precedence over his wife. And not just in that moment. He’d been doing so ever since Mother’s arrival.
    The guilt didn’t sit well—not when he was determined to show Miranda that her defection hadn’t injured him. She had made the