Page 27

Two days of excruciating travel, Conrad bemoaning his haste at leaving London, seemed interminable. As the carriage rumbled up the drive to the entrance of the manor, he became quiet, admiration of the beautifully manicured park shining from his wide eyes.

By this time, I was sitting up, but two burly men pulled me from the carriage, toiled up the broad stone steps, almost dragging me into the entryway, where a welcome party of sorts awaited my arrival.

Margaret

The sounds of horses’ hooves, carriage wheels, and spraying gravel signaled the arrival of the Earl of Altheney and his cousin, Ralph Hodgson. At least, I assumed that was the case. We had expected them for the past several hours.

As I jumped to my feet with a cry of delight, the tea table tipped, the pot, cups, accoutrements, scones, sandwiches, and cakes spilled to the floor in a welter of broken china and crumbs, the whole soaked in tea and milk.

Heat rose from my toes to the top of my head and as I moved away, hands covering my face, the crunch of the tea things sounded like gunshots. “Oh, no.”

“Really, Margaret,” Juliana said, her tone sharp, “I despair of you ever mastering ladylike behavior. You must learn to curb your enthusiasm. Where did you think you were going?”

“To the hall, of course. I wanted to greet the Earl and Mr. Hodgson.”

Through pursed lips, she said, “Are you certain the commotion heralds the arrival of those gentlemen?”

I straightened my shoulders and stared at my friend. “Who else would it be?”

Before she could reply, voices drifted in from the entrance hall. One was the butler, but the other was unfamiliar. I sank back into my seat on the sofa as Bishop opened the door to the drawing room.

“Lady Juliana, Dr. Whitacre has arrived.” His gimlet eye lighted on the shambles around my feet. Lips pursed, he stood aside as the man who would see to Mr. Hodgson entered, followed by a boy carrying a medicine box.

“I will send a maid to clear the tea things,” the butler said. Turning to the younger man, he ordered, “Boy, follow me.”

“Thank you, Bishop.” Juliana gave a small smile. “And perhaps a refreshment for our guest.”

“Certainly, Milady.” Back stiff as a poker, he glided out as Dr. Whitacre took a seat on a small chair positioned so he could examine us both.

Silence prevailed until a maid had arrived, mopped, swept, righted the fallen table, and departed.

A footman followed with a tray that held a silver teapot, caddy, sugar, milk, a slop bowl, and three delicate cups.

Another held the urn, which he placed on a table near Juliana.

After him, another footman brought a new array of comestibles.

Juliana rose, prepared the tea, then served the medical man and me, before pouring a cup for herself. “I hope you enjoy the blend of China teas Mr. Richard Twinings created for the Earl in honor of our engagement.”

After a sip, Dr. Whitacre said, “A truly excellent flavor. Perfect for a connoisseur. What is it called?”

“Two Hearts, One Soul,” Juliana said, a blush coloring her cheeks. She brushed her hand against her neck, then glanced in my direction, where I sipped my tea. “Margaret, you have stained your dress. Please change before the Earl arrives.”

Another wave of shame washed over me as I carefully set the cup down. “Of course. Please excuse me, Dr. Whitacre.” I ran out of the room before anyone could answer.

Dimly I heard the doctor exclaim, “They have not yet arrived? I am concerned as to how the patient will withstand the difficulties on the road.”

My steps slowed as I contemplated the vicissitudes dear Ralph must be enduring.

With a final sniff, I reached the first-floor landing and collided with a giggling figure who had raced down the corridor from the servants’ staircase.

Susan, her cap askew, stopped mid-giggle, the sound dying away to a wheeze.

She smoothed her apron and she half-lowered her eyelids as she dropped a curtsey.

“Oh, Miss, I am so sorry. I, I was, uh …”

Her voice trailed off as a booming laugh sounded behind her. A deep voice said, “Watch out, Susan. I am coming for you.” The tall figure of a footman, one arm outstretched, froze at the tableau facing him.

I risked a glance. No coat, hair standing in spikes, collar listing, vest open, he looked thoroughly disreputable. But what drew my eye was the hand fumbling at the undone buttons of his trousers. I saw a hint of drawers. Fingers over my eyes, I pivoted back to Susan.

“Th-th-this is Ro-rob-ert, Miss,” the girl said, blood rushing to her face.

My camel’s back bore one straw too many. I turned smartly on my heel, stiffening my back on the pair. “Please accompany me to my room, Susan. I must change my dress. This one is stained, so deliver it to the laundry after you assist me.” Then I stalked away, mouth shut like a sprung trap.

At my back, Robert called out, his voice cycling between whine and bluster. “Please, Miss, Susan and I didn’t mean no harm. We’re married, you see, and hardly ever have time alone. With the Earl away?—”

I spun around and gave vent to my ragged emotions. “With his lordship away, you took advantage of the situation. And what do you mean, you’re married? That is impossible. Servants cannot marry in households like this.”

“No one knows, Miss. We daren’t ask the Earl,” Susan interjected.

“We married late last year while the Earl was in Rochester. The house was at sixes and sevens with the old earl dying and all. I told the housekeeper that my mam was ill, she gave me leave and the butler sent Rose and Robert to accompany me.”

“And was your mother ill?”

“No, Miss. Mam died five years ago. But no one here knew that. So instead, Robert and I went to Gretna Green and married over the anvil. Rose was a witness. But if anyone finds out, we’ll all be turned off.

” Her voice rose in a wail. “We’re saving for a little place of our own.

Lord Athelney is very generous and we already have a good bit put by. ”

“Please, Miss. Don’t let on,” Robert begged, his face a picture of abject misery.

Like my sister, Marianne, I am too tender by half.

My severe tone was less than successful.

“Very well. I won’t say anything. This should teach you a lesson.

If you aren’t careful, you will get caught out again and may not be so lucky next time.

” I walked away, calling out, “Come along, Susan. I must be ready when the Earl and Mr. Hodgson return.”

Although fumble-fingered with embarrassment, Susan helped me into my new high-waisted, sprigged muslin morning dress with a small standing collar of lace.

The sleeves were tight at the wrists, bands fastened with pearl buttons.

A flounce trimmed the hem and the bandeau confining my curls was of a matching material.

Once she had managed the finishing touches, Susan gathered the soiled garment from the floor and turned to regard me from the doorway. “You look lovely, Miss. Just be careful now. I’ll take this to the laundry, but you don’t have no others to wear if you spoil this one too.”

Who was a servant to lecture me? With a huff, I folded my arms around my waist and sent a glare in her direction. “Susan, you may go.”

Susan winced at the sharpness of my tone. “Very well, Miss.” She sniffed. “Me and Robert really are sorry to have…”

“You are sorry to have been caught,” I said. Then I gave her a small smile. “But it must be difficult to be married and have to keep apart.”

“Yes, Miss.” She sniffled again as she maneuvered her way out the door, the dress bundled in her arms as she made for the servants’ staircase at the far end of the hall.

As I approached the main stairway, a low rumble of voices in the entrance hall caught my attention. I lifted my chin and descended the broad spiral before me. The highly polished treads proved slippery, but the narrow runner in the center enabled me to avoid a tumble.

Once on the bottom step, wide enough for several people to gather on, I looked back toward the gallery that ran around the first floor. The house, built to resemble a Venetian palazzo, had terrazzo flooring rather than the usual black-and-white pattern in marble at the entrance.

Earl Altheney had pointed out various features to me when he gave us a tour on our arrival.

The manor was romantic, set in an awe-inspiring exterior.

My room, the Loggia del Giardino, furnished with a small floral chaise that rested against the footboard of the ornately decorated white and gilt bed frame, provided a comfortable place to read.

Above depended a multicolored Murano glass chandelier. It was a fairy princess’ room.

I hoped that one day, when I married, my husband would whisk me off to Italy before we returned to our jewel of an estate.

Going on my own was out of the question.

Not only the expense, but my mother would never allow me to take such a voyage without a husband at my side.

My longing for travel and adventure was such that I gave an audible sigh and the company in the hall turned to stare.

“What is it, Margaret?” Juliana’s voice wavered. “I know this is a dreadful sight, but Mr. Hodgson will recover.” A feeble croak came from the figure on the floor. The man kneeling next to help murmured softly, as if to calm poor Ralph.

I said nothing, wondering who the fop was but more focused on the man stretched out on planks roughly joined and barely longer than his body. The butler and several footmen had gathered around and Spencer, ignoring us, issued orders.

“My dear Juliana, you have made sure my father’s room is prepared for Ralph?”

Ralph struggled to sit up as I joined the throng. No one gave me a second glance as the obstinate creature flailed his arms. His usually rich voice was thin and sounded as if he was speaking with a mouthful of small stones. “No. I wish to be taken up to my room.”