“Thank you,” my father replied.
I followed Lady Williams and my father to the door but paused and looked back. Lord Williams stood where we had left him, watching us, a frown on his face. He inclined his head, then turned and moved farther into the room. I hurried to catch up with my father.
Twenty-Four
Lady Williams led us up a massive staircase near the entry hall. At the top of the first landing she directed us to a door on the right. “Mr. Brinton, this will be your room. Your daughter’s room is next to yours.”
My father nodded. “Thank you, your ladyship.” He entered the room and closed the door.
“Miss Brinton, if you would follow me.” She opened the door to the room directly above the breakfast room and stood aside to let me in. The ceiling was as high as it had been downstairs. Light blue ornate trim framed the pink walls and a writing desk stood in front of one of the windows that ran the length of the room. A wardrobe and vanity claimed the wall on either side of the burning fireplace and a large bed stood near the door, flanked by small tables. But the best aspect was the curved white bench situated in the alcove created by the bow window.
“Oh,” I murmured in delight.
“I am glad that you like it.” She scanned the room. “Your trunk is here, but I see it has not been unpacked. Perhaps your lady’s maid was delayed in the kitchen.”
I regarded my not-quite-old trunk. “I do not have a lady’s maid, your ladyship. The maid who would normally have accompanied me was needed at home to tend to my sister’s illness.”
“Of course. I shall send my own lady in to help. Someone will be found to assist you before the day is over.”
“Thank you. You are most kind.”
She smiled. “Not at all. It is the greatest pleasure to have company.”
Once she’d left, I sat on the bench. The whole of the front of the estate stretched before me, acres of grass and copses of trees.
A knock sounded at the door. For an instant, I thought Lord Williams had come to inquire after my comfort. Just as quickly, I dismissed the idea. “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal a nicely dressed older lady and a young maid. “Excuse me, miss. I am Mrs. Field, Lady Williams’s lady’s maid.”
“Of course. Please come in.”
The other maid silently set a tray of food on one of the tables and set about unpacking the trunk. Mrs. Field watched her until, seeming satisfied she would do a decent job, she turned back to me. “Would you like assistance out of your dress? You’ll feel better after washing.”
“Yes, thank you.”
A basin was filled with warm water. After refreshing myself and changing out of my traveling gown, Mrs. Field and the other maid left and I sat in the alcove with my food, my back to the river, mesmerized by the view.
When I finished eating, I wrote letters to both Louisa and my mother, including a note for Alice, then opened the door and peeked out. No one was around. I knocked quietly on my father’s door to see if he’d join me on a walk about the grounds, but there was no response; he was most probably napping. I made my way downstairs alone.
In the entry hall, I studied the paintings of people I didn’t know, their eyes seeming to follow me as I moved about the room. There were busts of marble in each of the corners as well. I strolled slowly, stopping to study each one.
“The statues are Roman, from the first and second century.”
Lord Williams’s voice startled me into stepping away from the statue I’d been close to touching. “They’re beautiful.”
“I hope your room is to your satisfaction.”
“It is. Especially the view from the alcove.”
He nodded. “Is there anything else you need?” His tone was formal, a host checking on his guest.
“No. I was just. . . . My father is asleep but I am not tired.”
“My housekeeper will give you a tour to acquaint you with the estate.”
He didn’t offer to give me the tour himself. Perhaps he had pressing business that couldn’t wait. Or perhaps he no longer wanted anything to do with me. I couldn’t blame him for either. “A tour would be most welcome.”
Lord Williams rang, and within a few moments his housekeeper appeared.
“Mrs. Duval, please provide Miss Brinton with a tour of the house.” Then he left. There was no lingering glance, no smile, no parting word.
I ignored the sense of loss stirring within me. I had not wanted him when he offered for me. I had begged for him to release me. So why was I feeling as though I had fallen from the wall and had the wind knocked out of me?
Mrs. Duval smiled. “Since we are here, it seems a good place to begin. The main portions of the house were first constructed during the reign of the Tudors. . . .”
I followed her to the front of the room.
After showing me the entry hall and the wood-paneled dining room, she led me down the right wing containing the antechamber and drawing room, all the while explaining about Jacobean wings, which had been added more recently and changed the original square house into a U shape.
Mrs. Duval paused before the last door of the wing. “Since you have already seen the breakfast room and his lordship is occupying the study next to it, this is the last room of consequence on this floor.” She opened the door to a good-sized room with a large piano commandeering its far corner. “This is the music room, constructed within the last few hundred years. It contains the piano you see there, along with a harp, a violin, and a flute.”
I stepped past her. “Is it much used?”
“Her ladyship played every day before the passing of the late Lord Williams. The current Lord Williams enjoys the room when there is company.”
For all the time we had spent together, I could not say if Lord Williams enjoyed hosting house parties. It seemed one should know if a man preferred a large gathering or the intimacy of a few close friends. I walked to the piano and ran my finger along its polished wood. “Is there often company?”
“Often enough.” Mrs. Duval’s clipped tone suggested she would reveal no more about the family than she saw prudent. “This room is at your disposal for the duration of your stay.”
I touched the keys longingly. Alice would love this room. She might even be more amenable to practicing if she could do so on such a fine instrument.
“When you are ready, I will escort you upstairs.”
We made our way up the large staircase. Instead of heading to the right, which would have brought us to my bedchamber, Mrs. Duval opened the door to the room directly in front of us. “The ballroom,” she said, stepping aside.
I cautiously made my way in. Light poured through windows facing the front and side of the estate. Tall mirrors lined the wall of the pink- and white-trimmed room, reflecting the light and brightening the entire area. An empty fireplace topped by an exquisitely ornate molding took up the center of the wall and promised heat on the cold nights when this room was filled with music and laughter. An alcove, twin to the one in my room, beckoned from the far corner.
“It’s perfect.”
“It is usually a favorite with the younger ladies.”
The glamour of the room dimmed. How cliché I was, to love a ballroom best. “Yes, I am sure it is.” I strode back through the door. “Is there anything else to be seen?”
“The house boasts over one hundred rooms, with a long gallery on the floor above us. There are also the grounds. If you are not too fatigued, they are worth beholding.”
The excitement I should have felt at the prospect of seeing more failed to arise. I shook my head. “I am a little tired. I think I shall rest for dinner.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
I trudged back to my room, wishing for all the world I was home.
I spent the next hours with my head against the window, watching the estate grounds u
ntil a maid entered and assisted dressing me for dinner. When I entered the antechamber, where Mrs. Duval had informed me everyone would assemble, the conversation halted.
“Ah, there you are, Margaret,” my father said with a smile.
“Am I late? I apologize if I am.”
“Not at all, my dear,” Lady Williams said.
Lord Williams held his arm out to me. “Miss Brinton?”
I hesitated, then placed my hand lightly on his arm and allowed him to lead me toward the dining room.
“I hope you enjoyed the tour of the house?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Very much.”
“And the grounds?”
“I haven’t yet ventured outside.” Lord Williams didn’t comment, so I filled the silence by explaining, “Your housekeeper suggested I should, but I found myself a little fatigued.”
“Of course.”
His comment was polite yet dismissive.
“Miss Brinton,” Lady Williams asked as we took our seats. “I understand you are quite musical.”
A little warily, I replied, “I enjoy music very much, your ladyship.”
“I am glad to hear it. This house always feels more full when there is music in it. Will you play for us after dinner?”
It was the last thing I wished to do. I should be at home, tending Alice, planning a marriage with no danger of affection, no danger of being hurt, and looking forward to a life of solitude. “I should be delighted.”
Lord Williams raised his brows but said nothing.
When we entered the music room an hour later, Lady Williams indicated a small table next to the piano. “We keep all our music there.”
Thanking her, I trooped to the table and shuffled through the papers, passing over most of the songs I had in my own collection. When I came across the one Lord Williams had asked me to play, though, I paused. What was it about this song in particular that appealed to both him and Mr. Northam? My body warmed at the memory of Lord Williams’s hand on my back, at his whisper about my performance at the Hickmores’. I glanced up to find his gaze on me, but he turned casually and said something to his mother. I turned the sheet over and continued my perusal.
In the end I discovered a dozen or so pieces that were unfamiliar. I removed a few and studied them with interest, then set them aside to work on when I found some time to myself. Retrieving a sonata I had memorized, I laid the sheets out on the piano before me, not trusting myself to play from memory on an unfamiliar instrument while an audience looked on. Even with the music I made two mistakes, but Lady Williams was gracious in her praise.
Lord Williams, however, said nothing. His comments certainly weren’t required. But anything would have been better than his detached silence.
It was obvious he had no wish for me to be here.
I should never have thrust my father and, inadvertently, myself upon him. And while I certainly didn’t expect him to be as attentive as he’d been before, I hadn’t expected this coldness.
It was for the best, but it still stung.
Lady Williams requested another song, but I couldn’t. “I’m afraid I am more tired than I thought. Would you be offended if I retired early?”
“Of course not, my dear,” she replied.
My father rose quickly to his feet. “You are not ill, are you, Margaret?”
“No. Just weary from the day.” I slid from the room and leaned against the wall outside the door.
“I hope she is not becoming ill,” I heard Lady Williams say.
“She has had a long day, mother,” Lord Williams replied, his tone dismissive.
I slunk to my room and fell onto my bed.
Twenty-Five
The next morning I paused at the top of the staircase and peeked over the railing. Nothing moved except the morning light slowly brightening the hall below. I straightened myself and walked elegantly down the stairs in case a servant walked by.
The entry demanded reverence, so I kept my pace slow and my footsteps quiet against the tile. When I finally escaped the house, shutting the front door securely behind me, I inhaled a deep breath of relief.
The river moved in a constant hurry. There was nothing peaceful about it, no sounds of quiet lapping, no stillness to reflect the trees and clouds. Instead, the current tugged at the branch of a nearby tree, unsuccessfully straining to tear it free.
I sat on a bench and tossed stones into the water until the sun broke above the trees and lit my face. At least its warmth felt familiar. I leaned back and tilted my face upward. With my eyes closed, I could almost imagine I was home.
There was no path near the river, but I walked its bank anyway, taking care to step on the grass and avoid the mud. My explorations took me around the back of the house, where I found a garden in the courtyard created by the towering walls of the house’s two wings. A stone path ran down the middle of the garden, stretching into the shadowed courtyard and ending at a door. Little shrubs, half a dozen inches high, created rectangular walls around flowerbeds lining either side of the path, and ivy climbed a short distance up the sides of the house, forming arches over the windows.
It was so much more formal than our own garden, the one Lord Williams had been so opposed to. He must have been mocking me that morning we’d walked together. I strolled the paths, missing the naturalness of my own place. When the church bell struck the hour, I returned to the front of the house and let myself in, startling a footman in the entry.
During breakfast I took the opportunity to assess my father’s health. He appeared rested and eager to spend the day in the library, confirming that my accompanying him to Lord Williams’s had been unnecessary. And, based on Lord Williams’s taciturn responses, unwanted.
As the meal ended, Lady Williams said, “You are most welcome to join me this morning, Miss Brinton. I believe one of our neighbors is planning to call.”
Feeling rather obliged, I agreed.
She led me into one of the parlors, and within a few minutes, a woman near her age with high, arched brows, white hair, and a commanding presence entered. Lady Williams smiled. “Miss Brinton, allow me to introduce my friend Mrs. Hargreaves. Mrs. Hargreaves, Miss Brinton will be staying with us a few days.”
“Will she? How wonderful.” Mrs. Hargreaves spoke with a slight accent I couldn’t place and took a seat next to Lady Williams. She eyed me. “No need to ask you why you are here.”
Though her tone wasn’t unkind, there was no mistaking the insinuation in her words. “I am afraid you are mistaken,” Lady Williams intervened. “Miss Brinton’s father has come to view Gregory’s handling of the estate. Miss Brinton was pressured into the trip as company for him.”
I started at her words. She could only have known I didn’t wish to be here if Lord Williams had told her. Which meant he knew as well. Was this why he’d been so formal and distant?
Or perhaps he was formal and distant because there was no longer a reason to be any other way.
Mrs. Hargreaves looked over me. “Hm.” Then she smiled. “She will do.”
“Unfortunately for us all, I believe it is out of the question,” Lady Williams said.
“Never give up, Clarice. Der Hunger kommt beim Essen.”
I glanced between the ladies, not understanding the German, though at least now I could place the accent.
“You must excuse my friend, Miss Brinton,” Lady Williams said. “She forgets we are not all fluent in her native tongue. What she means is that everything must start with a little step, though you must excuse her in this as well. She is unused to young ladies visiting without aims at my son.”
“I never understood why the English do not learn my language,” Mrs. Hargreaves said. “It’s ofttimes more apt at expressing a sentiment than this stilted language of yours.”
“Yes, yes. You have said as much before,” Lady Williams replied.
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Sundson entered. “Lady Cox and Miss Perrin.”
Mrs. Hargreaves rolled her eyes and leaned toward me. “Lady Cox is the wife of a knight, but she thinks she should be queen! Miss Perrin, her daughter from her first marriage, is not a bad sort of person, though. Rather timid.” She shrugged.
A lady taller than Sundson entered, followed by a younger woman, obviously her daughter. They had the same dark brown hair, the same heavy brows and round chins. But where Lady Cox’s smile formed into a pinched frown when she noticed Mrs. Hargreaves, Miss Perrin smiled a dazzling, albeit somewhat blank, smile. Lady Cox surveyed Mrs. Hargreaves and sniffed loudly, then turned her focus to me. Her eyes instantly narrowed.
“Lady Cox, Miss Perrin,” Lady Williams said. “How good it is to see you. It has been over a week.”
Lady Cox’s eyes never left me. “I see you have company. We do not wish to intrude.”
Mrs. Hargreaves snorted, and Lady Cox’s attention leapt back to her. “Good morning, Mrs. Hargreaves. You are the same as always, I see. Is this girl some relation of yours?”
Mrs. Hargreaves produced a condescending smile of her own. “Where is the benefit of change when one is practically perfect?”
Lady Cox ignored her question. “Would you do us the honor, Lady Williams, of introducing us to your pretty young guest?”
Lady Williams sent me a genial smile. “This is Miss Brinton. She and her father have come to visit for a few days.”
“How pleasant.” Lady Cox’s tone led me to understand there was nothing pleasant about my visit in her opinion. No doubt she also believed I was here to capture Lord Williams. I wondered what she would think if she knew of the days he and I had just passed together.
Determined to remain unaffected by her hostility, I smiled. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Cox. Miss Perrin, would you like to sit here?” I indicated the place next to me.
“I’d be delighted.”
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