"And I'll have you know sir that I am extremely well organized and have a lot of experience keeping records for a household."

Alex nodded his head numbly as he read through the applicant's references. The man sitting before him was in his early thirties and was the third interviewee of the day that Parkinson had set up for him to interview.

As far as Alex could tell, everything seemed in order. The young man had experience working in a large household and came with excellent references. But whenever Alex thought about looking someone in the eye and telling them of his impairment, and that they would be required to read everything out loud to him, his heart froze in fear.

Other than Parkinson and his mother, no one knew of his inability to read. It was another reason why he chose to hide away from the social season. What if someone discovered that the Earl of Carlisle couldn't read and spread it amongst society? Could his Earldom or Roseglen be taken away because of it? He wasn't sure but just the thought of being ridiculed amongst society was reason enough to hide away.

"Thank you Mr. Lawrence, I will contact you once I've made my decision," Alex said dismissing him.

Standing up from his chair, Mr. Lawrence bowed to him and then quietly left the room. When the door had shut, Alex heaved out a breath of air. He had never felt so trapped in his life. Parkinson needed to retire, but the possible repercussions of revealing his secret seemed too great. The memories of growing up as a child and having to hear from various doctors that he was "feeble-minded" or suffered from mental retardation still haunted him to this day.

Alex's mind went back to the previous day with his carriage ride with Miranda. He had never enjoyed himself more. If all young debutantes were as pleasant as Miranda, Alex would have found the social season much more palatable.

Leaning back in his armchair, he thought with chagrin about the student she was tutoring. Henry was his name? Alex smiled at Miranda's vivacity to help the boy. That she didn't think anything was wrong with him. It made Alex wonder if she would think the same of him.

Pushing away from his desk he walked over to the window to look out on the bustling streets of London. Was Miranda still thinking over his proposal? She may very well throw it back in his face, he had no doubt about that. But if she did happen to accept...Well, let's just say he knew that the season would be much more enjoyable.

Because of your mother no longer meddling, or because you get to spend more time with Miranda?

Alex chewed on the thought. It was no secret that he liked spending time with Miranda, but he refused to allow his feelings to go any further. His parents may have had a great marriage, but to fully put your heart on the line seemed unthinkable for Alex. Eventually, someone will only get hurt.

"And how was your interview with Mr. Lawrence my lord?"

At Parkinson's arrival, Alex pulled himself from his melancholy thoughts. "Yes, yes, he seemed quite capable," Alex said.

"And do you feel he would be understanding of your condition?" Parkinson pressed.

Alex tightened his jaw. That was the whole issue wasn't it? Alex never had to reveal his disability to anyone. His parents and Parkinson found out naturally through his childhood. Alex didn't know if he would be able to handle the ridicule or derision or worse, their pity. Heaving a sigh, he walked back over to his desk. Picking up a piece of paper, Alex tried to read the contents. If he were given enough time, he could slowly struggle through. But words that were similar usually got mixed up in his mind, like "left" and "felt".

Throwing down the missive in frustration, Alex sat down hard in his chair. Even if he tried to hide his condition from a new steward, it wouldn't be long before they figured out what was wrong. Running both hands through his hair, Alex attempted to keep his composure.

"If I may Sire," Parkinson said, "You need to accept that not everyone will think less of you for an ailment that is not your fault."

"Uncle Oliver didn't see it that way," Alex said. "All my adolescent life I was told I would never have a normal life. Doctors would even go as far to say to my parents that I should be institutionalized." Alex gritted out that last word. He wasn't crazy, or a threat to others. His mind simply could not understand letters.

"And look how much you have proved them wrong," Parkinson pointed out. "Especially your uncle."

Alex chose not to respond. "I'll come to a decision regarding the steward in the next few weeks, John. I just need some...time."

Parkinson bowed in acquiescence.

"Now," Alex said, ready to put the topic behind him for the time being, "When is my next social engagement?"

His steward raised an eyebrow in surprise at his question. "I believe your mother and sister are engaged at the theater this coming week."

"Very good," Alex said, surprising Parkinson even more. He'll have to ask Evelyn if she wouldn't mind writing to Miranda to see if she would accompany them in their box. It should allow him a moment to talk privately with her to see if she would agree to his plan. And then he can focus on her problems instead of his own.

+++

Miranda found herself once again back at the schoolhouse, in the back room with Henry. Seeing as he was a special case, Miranda decided to come earlier in the week to get an extra study session in. Miss Sutherland didn't seem to mind in the least. It also provided an opportunity to distract Miranda from her complicated situation. Who would have thought she would long for the days of her wallflower status?

As she sat with Henry, Miranda decided to focus on other subjects besides literacy, to get an idea of where Henry's intelligence lay. She still believed nothing was mentally wrong with him, but she needed to rule out if he was just generally a slow learner. What she saw surprised her.

Henry had absolutely no issues with solving mathematical equations. In fact he excelled at them. And his memory seemed more than adequate at memorizing facts from geography and history. As long as Miranda read everything to him.

It puzzled her exceedingly. How could a boy who was obviously intelligent, have so much trouble reading a simple sentence? Granted, he could eventually read a sentence out loud, but it required a lot of effort. And Miranda noticed that Henry sometimes added words or read the letters in a different order.

By the end of the day, Miranda felt they made very little progress, but at least she understood Henry a little better. Once he saw that she wasn't going to punish him for every mistake he made, he seemed to warm up to her and was willing to try a little harder.

"Well I believe that ends our day Henry," Miranda said, cleaning the chalk slate. "How do you feel we did today?"

Henry gave a little shrug. "Okay, I guess."

Miranda gave him a reassuring smile. "You are a great student Henry, and do extremely well in all your other lessons. Your brain just doesn't seem to like letters," she laughed in jest.

Henry gave a little smile in return. "May I go outside now and play?"

Miranda grinned at his enthusiasm. "Yes, we're all done for today. You are dismissed."

Without another word, Henry dashed off out the door. Miranda chuckled. She was glad that his school troubles haven't impacted his childhood entirely. She sobered as she looked back down at their work desk. She felt completely at a loss as to how to continue helping Henry. His teacher would obviously be of no help. Maybe she should start looking into other sources for information. Surely Henry has not been the only one who experienced problems with reading. Miranda knew that there were plenty of magazines and journals in circulation on all sorts of subjects. Maybe she could find one on literacy.

After tidying up the room, Miranda gathered her things to ready herself for the walk back home. As much as she wanted to continue pondering how to help Henry, her conversation with Alex from the other day kept invading her thoughts. Stepping out into the warm summer day, Miranda still wasn't entirely sure what to make of his proposal. It seemed ludicrous that by simply being seen with an Earl would help her find a husband.

You could use this to your advantage.

Cissy's words sprang up in Miranda's mind. Cissy did say that dancing with an Earl had brought positive attention to her. But would it be enough? The other point of contention for Miranda, was the deception her and Lord Carlisle would be enacting. It went against everything Miranda's parents had taught her.

As she neared her home, Miranda slowly climbed the steps, feeling like she wasn't any closer to a decision that may affect the rest of her life. As the footman opened the door to let her in, he gestured to the side table where a few notes were laid. Picking them up, Miranda saw that one was William's calling card. He must have stopped by while she was out. Miranda was relieved that she had missed him, as he was another enigma that she didn't know what to do with. She knew she would have to face him eventually, but for now was happy to avoid the matter.

The other note was a letter from Lord Carlisle's sister, Lady Evelyn. Curious, Miranda opened the letter and walked over to the drawing room as she read it.

Miss Edwards,

I would enjoy the pleasure of your company on Wednesday night at the Royal Albert Hall. A carriage will be sent for you at seven o'clock. Please reply promptly as to your answer.

Regards,

Lady Evelyn Archer

Miranda let out a breath. Apparently Lord Carlisle wanted an answer to his proposition. Although Lady Evelyn was very kind to her at the dinner party, Miranda doubted that she would initiate the invite all on her own. In some ways Miranda looked forward to the opportunity to spend time with Lord Carlisle, however her stomach dropped at once again being put on display for society to gawk at. Maybe his plan was not such a good one...

Sitting down on the settee, Miranda was too overwhelmed with everything going on to think clearly. She knew dinner would be served soon and needed to go upstairs to change. She thought of feigning a headache, for the last thing she wanted was her parents to sense her discomfort and ask questions as to the cause.

Resigning to the fact that whether she was present or not at dinner, either scenario may cause alarm. Deciding to go get changed and at least give the appearance of normality, Miranda went up to her room and rang for a maid to help her dress.

When Bridget arrived at her room a few minutes later, Miranda gave a look of surprise. "Oh Bridget, I thought you would have been busy with dinner. Was Daisy indisposed?"

Bridget pursed her lips and walked over to Miranda's wardrobe, avoiding eye contact. "She 'ad to be let go," was all she said.

Miranda understood immediately. It seemed the repercussions of Father's failed investment were beginning to show. Miranda's heart broke for her parents. Such godly, caring people, and yet they were facing the most difficult times.

Miranda squared her shoulders and looked herself in the eye of her vanity. She refused to allow her parents to waste away into poverty. They had sacrificed so much for her and now it was her turn to sacrifice something for them. And to do that she will need to accept the Earl's offer.