Page 45 of Winterset

Kate

The journey took four days, thankfully all without incident, and finally, we had almost arrived at Summerhaven. With rolling green hills and an expansive blue sky, the southern part of the country was big and bright and beautiful. I’d never seen a place more picturesque.

Charlie rode by the carriage on his horse. I was grateful for his sacrifice to ensure my safety, and I hoped he’d not experienced too much discomfort.

The carriage passed over the stone bridge, through the iron gate, and finally started down the tree-lined drive to Oliver’s childhood home.

Summerhaven was, without a doubt, the most magnificent manor I’d ever laid eyes on, so large that I could not see the whole of it out my side glass. The stone exterior sparkled in the afternoon sun, and the windows reflected the lush parkland it was built within.

Oliver’s family was waiting on the steps to greet me.

A handsome man with dark hair and a discerning gaze—Lord Jennings, I guessed from Oliver’s description—and a lovely woman at his side.

Hannah. Standing in front of them was a more mature woman.

Oliver’s mother, Dowager Lady Winfield. They looked so similar.

The carriage came to a careful stop. A liveried footman opened the door and let down the step, then reached up to hand me down.

I smoothed my dress, though it made no difference.

It was horribly wrinkled and two years out of fashion.

What would the earl and his wife think of me?

Did I even remember how to properly greet an earl, much less one who refused to be called by his title?

My first and only Season had been cut short, and during that time, I’d not been introduced to someone so high-ranking in Society.

And this particular earl was predisposed to dislike me, seeing as he and Oliver were estranged.

I’d been so focused on leaving Winterset that I had not thought about arriving at Summerhaven.

Oliver had sent them a single letter, pleading for them to take me in and help me find a new situation someplace safe, but that had likely arrived only yesterday.

I was fortunate they were outside to greet me at all. I was a stranger to these people.

I pressed my back against the cushion and closed my eyes.

“Miss?” A footman peeked inside the carriage. “Is something the matter?”

“No. Nothing,” I said, my voice shaking. They probably thought me mad.

“May I help you alight?” He extended his hand another inch. I reached forward, but instead of taking his hand, I grabbed the door and pulled it closed, causing the footman to quickly retract his hand.

I couldn’t do this.

I wanted to go home to Winterset. To Oliver. But I could never go back.

My eyes burned with tears, but I blinked them away. A minute passed, or maybe it was mere seconds before a soft knock startled me.

The older woman stood at the carriage door, offering a small smile. She pointed at the door as if asking permission to enter, and I nodded.

“Miss Lockwood?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“Yes, my lady,” I said, my voice thin and trembling.

“I’m Lady Winfield, Oliver’s mother. May I join you for a moment?”

I slid to the side to make room for her.

She climbed into the carriage and sat directly across from me. Lady Winfield had kind eyes and a soft smile, like Oliver, which made me feel more at ease. “I remember the first time I made the journey from Winterset. I grew up there, you know.”

“You did?”

She nodded.

“I already miss it,” I sniffed.

She set a hand on my knee, offering quiet comfort. “When I first saw Summerhaven, my new home by marriage, I felt incredibly overwhelmed. I imagine you might too.”

“I do,” I admitted.

She nodded in understanding. “I know it isn’t the same, but I want you to know that you are most welcome here.”

I gave her a grateful look. “Thank you.”

She squeezed my knee, giving me a little of her courage. And for a few seconds, I felt a bit braver. But as soon as I glanced out the side glass and saw the earl and his wife, it faded.

Lady Winfield followed my gaze. “Perhaps you might feel more comfortable if I told you about my family before you meet them?”

I nodded.

“That is my eldest son, Lord Winfield, Earl of Summerhaven—although he has not properly claimed his title.” She sighed as if it had been the topic of many tiresome conversations.

“He prefers to be called by his Christian name, which is Damon, but I suggest you call him by his courtesy title, Lord Jennings.”

“Oliv—I mean, Mr. Jennings,” I corrected myself, “mentioned that.”

“Oliver is fine. I am quite partial to the name, seeing as I gave it to him.” She winked and then returned her attention outside. “That lovely young lady is my daughter-in-law, Lady Winfield. Although she will likely respond only if you call her Hannah.” She gave a slight shake of her head.

“My darling twin granddaughters are napping in the nursery, but you will meet them later.”

“Twins?” I said.

Lady Winfield nodded. “Yes, they are my reward for rearing such strong-willed sons.”

I smiled but felt sad. Oh, how I wished Oliver were here to introduce me to his family. I doubted he even knew about his new nieces. The thought hurt my heart.

“Would you like to meet my son and his wife now?” she asked.

Although I was still afraid, I felt braver. “I would.”

Lady Winfield alighted first, and I stepped down after her. We climbed the stairs together to where the earl and his wife stood. I sank into a deep curtsy.

“Miss Lockwood, I presume?” the earl said.

“Yes, my lord.” I rose and found him fighting amusement.

Had I done it wrong?

“Stop it.” Lady Winfield—Hannah?—nudged her husband. “You are making our guest nervous.”

His dark brows pulled together, and then he sobered, standing straighter.

“My apologies, Miss Lockwood. I meant no offense. Truly, I was only remembering the last time I welcomed a young lady to my home after a long journey.” He grinned at his wife.

“She quite ruined my boots. You aren’t feeling ill, are you? ”

“No, my lord.”

Hannah huffed at her husband, but her adoration of him was apparent. “You must forgive my husband, Miss Lockwood. He seems to have lost his manners again.”

They were so nice, so normal .

“Welcome to Summerhaven,” the younger Lady Winfield said.

“Thank you, Lady Winfield,” I said.

“Please, call me Hannah.” It was as Oliver’s mother had predicted.

“It will be quite confusing if you call us both Lady Winfield.” She smiled at her mother-in-law, who stood beside me, and I could see why Oliver had been friends with Hannah.

She was warm and friendly and made me feel comfortable. “Now, let us get you inside.”

Lord Jennings offered Hannah his arm and assisted her up the stairs to the door, and the elder Lady Winfield and I followed behind.

As soon as I stepped over the threshold, I sucked in a breath. With black-and-white marble floors, a sweeping grand staircase, and a vaulted ceiling so high I had to strain my neck to see the whole of it, the entryway was incredible.

And Oliver had grown up here.

It was no wonder that he’d initially been unimpressed by Winterset. The entire expanse of it could fit inside one wing of this house.

“Your home is lovely,” I said.

“Thank you,” Lord Jennings replied. “If you’ll briefly excuse me, I’ll go instruct Caldwell, our butler, to take your trunks to the ...” He looked at his wife in question.

“The lilac room,” Hannah supplied with a smile.

“The lilac room,” Lord Jennings repeated, and he kissed Hannah’s hand before parting.

Hannah watched him go with a look of love in her eyes, then turned back to me and Lady Winfield. “It’ll be a few minutes before your trunks are brought up. Would you like us to give you a quick tour while we wait?”

“I would love that.”

But before we even took one step, a woman appeared and curtsied in front of Hannah. “Pardon me for intruding, my lady, but you asked to be told when the girls awoke.”

“They’re awake already?” Hannah said, sounding surprised.

The woman nodded.

“Thank you, Betsy. I will be there as soon as I can.”

Betsy curtsied and left.

“Allow me?” Lady Winfield asked.

“That would be wonderful,” Hannah said. “Thank you.”

Lady Winfield walked away, leaving Hannah and me to our tour.

On the ground level, Hannah pointed out the study, which was thrice the size of Winterset’s; the dining hall, which boasted an impossibly long table; and a large ballroom, with a glittering chandelier in the center.

The most awe-inspiring room of all, though, was the gallery.

From the vaulted glass ceiling that bathed the room in sunlight to the black-and-white marble checkered floor, I felt as though I’d stepped into one of the finest museums in all of England.

The life-sized paintings of Lord Jennings’s ancestors— Oliver’s ancestors—were so vivid and lifelike that they seemed to jump off the canvas.

I’d never seen paintings so stunning. How had the artist managed it?

“Your collection is impressive,” I said.

“I think so too,” Hannah said. “But my husband dislikes this room. He thinks the paintings are too grim and gruesome.” Her gaze rose to a painting of a particularly bloody battle scene.

“Oh my.” I held a hand to my mouth. “The artist really managed to capture the brutality of battle, didn’t he?”

“Indeed he did.” She giggled. “I assure you that not all the paintings are so graphic, especially not the contemporary ones. Let me show you our family portraits.”

She led me to the opposite side of the gallery, and I marveled at the multitude of paintings.