Ever since Miranda told him that she would be leaving next week, Alex could seldom think of anything else. At night he would toss and turn, the burden that if anything were to happen to Miranda, he would be responsible. And for what? Because he didn't appreciate his mother's meddling. The whole idea seemed petty now. Even with Miranda in a desperate situation, which was actually much more dire than he originally thought, he could be potentially putting her in the path of someone who could ruin her life indefinitely. And then not even he could rescue her.

Alex knew he needed to attend that houseparty. Even though just the idea of being around so many people made him sweat, he would never be able to forgive himself if something were to happen to Miranda. And a houseparty where she was out of the protection of her parents, and with an inexperienced chaperone was just such a situation that a rake may try to capitalize on.

Resolved in his chosen course, Alex trotted downstairs in the morning, hoping to find his mother having breakfast. He knew in the past they had always received invitations for the Benson's yearly houseparty, but since they were in London for Evelyn's season, that may have changed. It could make for a tricky situation, for Alex to try and wrangle an invitation.

When he entered the breakfast room however, it was only Evelyn sitting reading the newspaper. "Good morning Sister," Alex said as he began filling himself up a plate from the sideboard. "Have you seen Mother this morning?"

Evelyn picked up her cup of tea, taking a slow sip before putting down her paper and looking up at Alex. "I believe she said something about needing to see the dressmakers for a new ball gown. Apparently the dozen others we brought with us weren't good enough for the Worther's upcoming ball." Setting down her tea cup, Evelyn cocked her head at him. "Was there something you needed? Trying to get out of another dinner party perhaps?"

Alex gave an exaggerated shudder. "Thank heavens no. Fortunately Mother seems to have dropped that crusade for the moment."

"Because she thinks you're pursuing someone," Evelyn said. "You do realize Mother is expecting you to propose by the end of the season?"

Alex pretended that he was concentrating very hard on the food in front of him. "If she wants to make assumptions about my life then that is her prerogative."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow at his answer, but choosing not to comment, returned her attention instead to her newspaper.

Alex put down his knife and fork, the food suddenly tasting bland in his mouth. With his mother now expecting a proposal, it was yet another thorn in his "perfect" plan. What he originally thought was such a fool-proof plan, was actually only hurting those around him. Frustrated, he pushed himself away from the table, ready to stomp off out of the room. But as reached the doorway, Evelyn's voice stopped him.

"If you're wanting to know about the Benson's, we did receive an invitation."

Alex swiveled back around, surprise etched on his face. "How did you know I was going to ask Mother about the Benson's?"

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Please, it was painfully obvious with how you waltzed with Miss Edwards last night."

Alex frowned at her. "Your omniscience is duly noted. Is the gossip so slow that they're speaking about attendees at house parties?"

Evelyn gave him a pointed look. "You should know by now that Miss Edwards is hardly slow gossip. Why, she has gone from being practically invisible to a favorite of an Earl. Society finds her a novelty."

Sagging against the doorframe, Alex suddenly felt very tired. He knew that giving Miranda special attention would give a boost to her reputation, but he could have never imagined it would get this out of hand. "Do you know if Mother accepted the invitation?"

"She declined," Evelyn said. "She wanted to stay here in London. But I'm guessing that is not going to stop you, is it?"

"No," Alex said.

Evelyn gave a triumphant smile, like she found something amusing. "Good luck with telling that to Mother. She did everything in her power to bring you here, she won't let you leave easily."

Glaring at his sister, Alex stood up straightening his coat. "In case you have forgotten, I am a grown man and the master of this house. Mother does not dictate my movements."

When his mother did finally return home, Alex revealed his plans to her.

"Absolutely not!"

Alex breathed out his nose, trying to keep his frustration in check. "It is only for one week. You'll hardly know I'm gone."

His mother paced back and forth in their drawing room. "You'll be too close to Roseglen. Once you're there you won't want to come back."

"I promise to come back Mother. I just need a change of scenery. And a little company wouldn't hurt either." When his mother stopped pacing and looked at him, Alex knew he had said the wrong thing.

"What are you about Alexander?" she asked. "You avoid company like the plague. I have to practically twist your arm to attend any social functions here, so why are you running off to this one?"

It took every ounce of willpower for Alex not to succumb to his Mother's scrutiny. He kept his face passive and maintained eye contact, even though he badly wanted to look away. "I need a break from London and the country air will help get me through the rest of the season." He didn't like lying but knowing now that Mother had high hopes for a proposal this season, he didn't dare raise those hopes any higher.

After studying him for a moment, his mother finally nodded in consent. "Very well, but I expect you back promptly after."

Trying not to let his relief show, Alex turned to leave the room. "Not to worry Mother, but if you'll excuse me, I need to go pack."

+++

The carriage rolled along the uneven country road, making it difficult for Miranda to read the medical journals she brought with her for the long journey out of London. She felt slightly guilty for skipping some of Henry's tutor sessions, so she hoped she could make up for it by researching his condition.

Cissy dozed across from her, the maid at her side, while Cissy's husband Nicholas had opted to ride alongside the carriage instead of in it. Miranda was secretly grateful Cissy's husband had chosen not to sit with them. She had barely spoken two words to him since their marriage and wouldn't know how to interact with him for hours on end.

The words on the page began to blur forcing Miranda to take a break from her reading. Most of it she didn't understand anyway, or was not applicable to Henry's situation. At the rustling of the papers, Cissy awoke with a start. Rubbing her eyes, she gave a slight yawn as she regained her bearings.

"Dear me," Cissy said. "Sorry for neglecting you Mandi, I can't remember ever being this tired."

"I hear having a baby will do that to you," Miranda responded with a grin.

Cissy looked sheepishly back. "I know the point of the nursemaid is to look after Margaret the majority of the time, but I can't help waking up everytime I hear her cry in the night." Cissy's face suddenly saddened. "I hope she is okay in London. I feel immensely guilty for leaving her when she is barely two months old. What if she forgets who I am while we're gone?"

Miranda gave her friend a reassuring smile. "You are her mother Cissy. Of course she could never forget you."

Cissy reached over and squeezed Miranda's hand. "Thanks Mandi, I needed to hear that." Leaning back against her seat, she nodded at the journals in Miranda's lap. "Doing some light reading I see."

Miranda gave a loud sigh. "I feel I am way in over my head Cissy. Half of these medical terms I don't even understand and anything that does discuss illiteracy classifies such children as 'feeble-minded' and 'ineducable'."

Cissy nodded in understanding. "I admire your efforts. It seems to me that everyone has given up on this poor boy but you."

"I sometimes feel close to doing the same. But when I think about how any child who doesn't have an education ends up working in factories under horrible conditions..." Miranda shook her head sadly. "I don't want to see that happen to Henry."

Perusing through the stack of journals Miranda brought with her, she pulled out the British Medical Journal and began leafing through the various essay titles. Once again, nothing seemed relevant until one grabbed Miranda's attention. It read A Case of Congenital Word Blindness.

Word blindness? The term was not familiar to Miranda but it sounded relatable to Henry and so she read on.

Percy F. – a well-grown lad, aged 14 – He has always been a bright and intelligent boy, quick at games, and in no way inferior to others of his age ... His great difficulty has been – and is now – his inability to learn to read. This inability is so remarkable, and so pronounced, that I have no doubt it is due to some congenital defect ... He has been at school or under tutors since he was 7 years old, and the greatest efforts have been made to teach him to read, but, in spite of this laborious and persistent training, he can only with difficulty spell out words of one syllable.

Miranda was speechless. In just one paragraph, the author described someone who could have easily been Henry. She read through the rest of the article, hoping that they had also a solution to fixing word blindness. But by the end, it seemed they were still just as baffled as she was. Although Miranda was disappointed in having still not discovered how to teach Henry to read, she conceded to the fact that she now had a name for his condition. And it had nothing to do with him being mentally slow or unintelligent. Just as someone could not be found to be at fault for being born blind, Henry was simply blind to words.

"I take it you didn't find the answers you were looking for," Cissy said.

Miranda shook her head putting the article down on the seat. "No, but I have at least taken a step in the right direction." When Cissy didn't respond, Miranda swung her head back up to see her friend staring out the window, her expression despondent. Thinking that Cissy was meditating on Margaret again, Miranda was going to say something to try to occupy her mind. Until she saw Cissy's husband Nicholas come into view of the window. It was then that Miranda realized it was not Margaret at all who Cissy was pining for.

Studying her friend, Miranda never discerned before how little Cissy talked about her marriage or her husband. Maybe she should change that. "Are you looking forward to your time at Grayside?" Miranda prompted. "I'm sure it must be a little intimidating, knowing that one day you will be the mistress of the house."

Keeping her eyes out the window, Cissy gave a little shrug. "I haven't thought about it much to be honest. I find the name very fitting as it can come across very...dreary."

"Well maybe you can change all that when Nicholas inherits the estate."

"Perhaps," Cissy responded but chose not to elaborate.

Miranda's heart went out to her. She wanted to ask directly if her friend was happy, but what good would it do? Whether Cissy was happy or not, she was committed to Nicholas till death do them part. And who was she to judge their marriage when Miranda was the one seeking a husband purely for convenience?

"We should be arriving soon," Cissy said, breaking Miranda from her thoughts. "It should just be around the next bend."

Miranda straightened her dress and made sure that her coiffure had not loosened during the bumpy carriage ride. She stuffed the medical journals back into her traveling bag as she didn't think it would be looked at too fondly at a woman reading material usually reserved for men. It was not lost on her that the Benson's were a wealthy and affluent family, and that by comparison, she was low on the social ladder. But despite that, her parents still held some standing in society and gave Miranda confidence that she was not outside her sphere by attending.

Just as Cissy said, the carriage rolled around the bend and Grayside came into view. The estate was grand to be sure, but Miranda saw what Cissy meant by it being "dreary". The walls of the house were completely covered in gray stone, and although everything was clean and immaculate, Miranda could hardly see any gardens or colorful bushes to bring life to the otherwise bland landscape.

Riding up the gravel driveway, Miranda watched as Cissy also primped her attire to make sure everything was in its proper place. Coming to a stop, the servants that were awaiting their arrival approached to assist them down.

An older couple, who Miranda guessed to be Nicholas's parents, stood at the top of the steps, their expressions reserved. Having dismounted his horse, Nicholas bounded up the front steps to greet his parents, Cissy and Miranda followed close behind.

"Mother, Father," Nicholas greeted, shaking his father's hand and giving his mother a kiss on the cheek.

"It's about time you arrived, Nicholas," Mrs. Benson said. "Our guests are set to arrive tomorrow and we haven't even finished all of the preparations."

Nicholas smiled charmingly at his mother. "Not to fret Mother, with Cecilia here to aid you, I'm sure everything will be completed on time."

Miranda noticed Cissy's body slightly stiffen beside her. Did Cissy not enjoy co-hosting with her mother-in-law? Miranda knew Cissy to be an excellent hostess in her home, and thought she would have jumped at the chance to show her skills at Grayside. Afterwall, she would be the mistress one day.

Mrs. Benson's eyes flicked to Cissy's for a brief moment before settling back on Nicholas. "Of course, but this is our most prestigious event of the year. Special care must be taken."

This time it was Miranda's own ire that began to rise at the slight to her friend. Just when the thought entered her mind to say something in defense, Cissy spoke up.

"I completely understand Mrs. Benson. Be sure to let us know if we can be of any assistance." And with a slight curtsey, Cissy led Miranda past her in-laws and into the front foyer.

Miranda couldn't help but stare at the opulence. It was so unlike what she was used to at home. But although you could tell that the interior was furnished at a great expense, Miranda would gladly pick her own home that at least expressed warmth and comfort instead of hard and cold.

Cissy hooked her arm through Miranda's and started leading her up the central staircase. "I'll show you to your room. I made sure to have a specific one made up for you. There are at least some perks to being related to the family."

"I'm sorry your mother-in-law treated you so abominably."

Cissy dismissed Miranda's statement. "I was happy to get out of aiding her. She can be quite strict when it comes to details and so is impossible to please."

Cissy affectionately patted Miranda's hand on her arm. "With you here Mandi everything is going to be so much more enjoyable. And I hope to be able to repay you with a ring on that finger," she said with a wink and a cheeky grin.