Page 26 of Entertaining the Earl (Vows in Vauxhall Gardens #2)
W hen the carriage pulled up outside his estate, Colin did not feel a sense of coming home. This place had been his childhood home, and he did have some good memories here. But they were from so long ago that they had been overtaken by others—ones he would rather forget.
His mother had died in this house. He and his father had argued endlessly in this house. He had walked away from this house at the age of eighteen, not knowing that when he returned, he would be the earl.
From the outside, it looked in fairly decent shape, and as the carriage came to a standstill, the small remaining crew of staff assembled in the courtyard, lined up to greet him.
The footman opened the door, and Colin emerged into the gray light of the day.
He looked up at the building and suppressed a shiver.
He did not want this to be his home. As much as his mother had tried to make his childhood a happy one, this was not a home that had been filled with love, happiness, or laughter.
His mother had certainly loved him, but she had been so unhappy, and she had struggled not to let it show.
When he started a family, he wanted to do it right. He wanted a home full of joy, a wife who was at least content, and children who knew what love felt like.
An elderly man stepped forward out of the line, and Colin was surprised that he recognized him. The man gave a shaky bow and said, “ Welcome back, my lord.”
“Anderson! Goodness me. I have to admit, I did not expect to see you still at the helm.”
Anderson gave a smile that lit up his face. “I have been butler here for forty years now, my lord. And I hope to remain so until I am incapable of fulfilling my duties.”
“I am very glad to see the place in such good hands, especially since I have been away for so long.”
“Thank you, my lord. We are running on rather a small staff, as you can see. But we keep things to the highest standard we possibly can.”
“I have no doubt.”
The rest of the assembled staff bowed or curtsied, and then the two footmen hurried to collect his cases from the carriage.
“The carriage will need to be returned to London, Anderson. I borrowed it from my hosts, the Lyttletons. If we have no one to spare to take it back, could you see to hiring someone from the village?”
“Of course, my lord. I will see to it straightaway. The master chamber is ready for you, and Cook has prepared luncheon for whenever you are hungry.”
How odd it felt to be giving the orders in this place where he had always been expected to do as he was told. To know that each of those lofty rooms belonged to him.
Had his father and mother expected to fill those chambers with a brood of children, rather than the sole son they ended up with?
Well, his mother had a sole son. The number of children the old earl had was best left shrouded in mystery.
He half-expected ghosts to jump out at him as he entered the old building and ascended the staircase. Perhaps his old nanny would tell him off for some misdemeanor, or his mother would chase after him lovingly, or his father would tell him what a disappointment he was.
But the only ghosts were in his mind, and he tried to shut them out as he was shown to the master bedroom—the bedroom that, in his mind, would always be his father’s.
The furniture was dark, the curtains heavy, and the whole room gave off a rather depressing air.
If he did stay here, perhaps he would redecorate…
not that he knew much about how to best decorate a home.
Or instead, he thought, he might get things in order here and then tour the properties that belonged to him around the country. It wasn’t quite the same as traveling the continents, but it was better than staying in one place.
He sat down to luncheon an hour after he had arrived, and the paneled dining room felt surprisingly lonely.
He hadn’t realized just how used to company he had become, but then he shouldn’t have been surprised.
It wasn’t just his time with the Lyttletons; even when he had been abroad, he had very rarely dined alone.
The soup was delicious, but the silence was stifling. As soon as he had finished, he rang the bell and asked the footman to ensure that the new man of business came to speak with him as soon as it was convenient.
The library had always been his father’s domain, and even now, Colin felt a little apprehensive as he pushed open the door.
This place did not seem to hold the same charm as the Lyttletons’ library, but a voice at the back of his head told him that that had more to do with one regular guest of the Lyttletons’ library than with the room itself.
“This house is lacking warmth,” he complained to himself before calling for a fire to be built. But even once that was roaring in the grate, the room still felt cold and empty.
It did not seem to be the sort of cold that could be fixed by simply adding some heat. It needed warmth; it needed a woman’s touch; it needed some life breathed into it.
Unbidden, his thoughts were filled with Susannah.
He had offended her most gravely, and he was embarrassed to even think of that night. Embarrassed…and more than a little aroused, wh ich embarrassed him even further. She was a proper young lady, and he had no business giving in to his basest desires without first offering her marriage.
And he could not offer her marriage, no matter how often she filled his thoughts, no matter how attractive he found her, no matter how clever and intelligent and sunny she was…he could not think of her in any way but as a friend. If even that.
It was as he ate supper alone that evening that he pondered the question again: Why could he not? What was actually stopping him from asking Susannah Lyttleton to marry him and having everything he wanted?