Page 6 of An Enchanting Kiss (Captivating Kisses #5)

His curiosity about young Celia had grown over the week it had taken to reach Cumberland.

Obviously, Perceval had sired the girl, else he would not have taken her in and sent her to his country estate.

Rupert wondered what the circumstances had been.

Had her mother been Perceval’s mistress?

Or had she been some Covent Garden nun, one of dozens Perceval might have coupled with?

He hoped the nursemaid who had accompanied Celia to the country was still in service caring for the girl.

Perhaps she might have answers for him. If not, the truth had died with his brother.

Having never thought he would wed, much less have children, Rupert had no idea what to do with a young girl. She was family, true, but she was also a by-blow. He would have to think carefully regarding her care.

The carriage rolled up the lane, and everything suddenly became so familiar.

As a boy, he had wandered these lands, knowing them like the back of his hand.

He decided he would remain in the country, at least until next spring when the new Season began.

He would not find himself in Perceval’s shoes, without a wife or an heir.

His goal would be to find a bride and bring her home.

Until then, he would learn everything he could about his estate, hoping Williamson still managed it.

The steward had been at Crestbrook ever since Rupert was young.

Since the records Ousley had shown him proved the estate thrived, he assumed Williamson was still in charge.

He wondered if the older man would resent him coming home after so many years and trying to take charge.

The vehicle turned in front of the house, and he saw two lines of servants awaiting him.

He had written ahead to let whoever was in charge know of the previous viscount’s death, and that the new one would be arriving home soon.

Someone must have spied his carriage, and the staff had quickly been assembled to greet their new master.

The coach rolled to a stop, and his footman opened the door. Rupert exited the carriage. A man stepped from the line, and he supposed this was his country butler.

“Lord Cressley, I am Prater. I manage the household here at Crestbrook, along with my wife, Mrs. Prater. She is the housekeeper.”

Mrs. Prater joined them. “It is so very good to meet you, my lord. Our condolences on your loss of the viscount.”

Neither of the Praters had been in service when he had left over ten years ago, but glancing around, he did recognize a few of the servants.

“Would you please introduce me to my staff?”

The couple took him down each line, giving him the name of each servant and what they did, in the house or on the grounds. He gave a friendly greeting to those he recalled and decided to address the entire group.

“I know the previous viscount did not choose to come to Crestbrook, but that will not be the case with me. I enjoy the country and plan to make Crestbrook my permanent home.”

He caught the pleased smiles and continued. “I do plan to attend the Season next spring. Hopefully, I will return with a bride. I want to fill the halls of Crestbrook with children.”

A footman whom he’d favored spontaneously began clapping, and suddenly, the entire staff applauded his words.

“Thank you for your service to the previous viscount and to Crestbrook itself. I look forward to getting to know each of you.”

The Praters led him into the house, and Mrs. Prater asked if he would like tea.

“I would welcome a cup, Mrs. Prater.”

“Your rooms are ready for you, my lord,” the butler informed him. “Shall I unpack for you?”

“I brought my valet with me, but there is very little to unpack, Prater. You see that I still am wearing my major’s uniform. I will need to make an appointment with the village tailor and have new clothes made up for me.”

“I can send word now, my lord. I am sure Mr. Burrows could see you tomorrow morning for a fitting if you so desire.”

“Do so,” Rupert said, wanting to shed his military clothes and settle into civilian life.

The butler left, and Mrs. Prater asked, “Shall I take you to the drawing room and have your tea sent there, my lord?”

He chuckled. “I remember where the drawing room is,” he said with a smile. “After all, I did grow up at Crestbrook.”

“Prater and I were not certain of the circumstances. We were hired almost five years ago by an employment agency to come and work here. The previous couple who managed the estate for Lord Cressley were ready to retire. ”

“Before you leave, Mrs. Prater, I do have one question. Where is Celia? And does the nursemaid she came with still care for her?”

The housekeeper looked apprehensive at his question.

“Newton is still employed to care for the girl, my lord. Miss Celia will be five soon.” She paused. “Or she may already have turned five. I am not certain. They were here when we arrived. Newton is very tightlipped, so I can tell you nothing about her or the girl.”

“I was disappointed they were not here to greet me.”

The housekeeper frowned. “Newton is an odd one, my lord. Something is... off about her. She and Miss Celia come and go as they please. Most likely, they are traipsing about somewhere.”

Concern filled him, but Rupert gave the housekeeper a pleasant smile. “I, too, loved to roam Crestbrook as a child. I do wish to meet both of them, however. Please bring them to me as soon as they return to the house.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Rupert made his way up to the drawing room.

It seemed to sit forlornly, as if it knew no one ever used it.

He hoped to meet his neighbors and become active in the local community.

He was not a man to sit idly about, and so he would become involved in the management of his estate and hopefully get to know others in the community.

As he waited for tea to arrive, he wandered about the room, pausing at a globe. He gave it a spin.

Suddenly, a blur flashed before him, and the globe stopped spinning. A young girl had halted its rotation.

“You must be Celia,” he said gently, not wishing to frighten her.

“It’s mine,” she said, stroking the globe possessively.

“Actually,” he said lightly, “it is mine. This house is mine. Everything in it is mine.”

She frowned, studying him carefully, her light blue eyes serious. Then she asked, “Are you my father?”