“It is like driving into a cathedral,” she said. “How splendid it is, Bert. Imaginelivingin a place like this.”
“Well, Redcliffe is no hovel,” he said.
“It is not.” She laughed. “Neither is Elm Court. But—imagine livinghere.”
“If you can entice Brandon into making you an offer,” he said, “you will not have to justimagine.”
She let out a mock shriek and punched him on the arm. “I think I prefer my imagination,” she said.
The carriage drew clear of the trees, passed by the colorful rock garden, rumbled through the bridge, and crossed the valley floor between trees and lawns before turning onto the cobbled terrace of the house and rocking to a halt. To one side of them wide flagged steps led down to the parterre gardens, which were spread before them in all their geometric precision. On the other side was the long flight of marble steps leading up beneath the great portico. The main doors had opened and Maria hurried out before stopping at the top of the steps to gaze down upon them, smiling warmly and then hurrying down.
The Earl of Brandon came out after her but stayed at the top of the steps while their coachman descended from his perch and opened the carriage door and set down the steps. The earl was not smiling, Estelle saw. His hands were clasped behind him, his feet set apart. Lord of his domain—but this time it reallywashis domain. She returned her attention to Maria.
Bertrand descended first and handed Estelle down. Maria came hurrying into her arms.
“I was so afraid you would change your minds,” she said, turning to offer her hand to Bertrand. “Did you have a pleasant journey?”
“Long journeys are to be endured,” he said as he shook her hand. “They are pleasant after one has arrived safely at one’s destination.”
“Then it must have been pleasant,” she said, beaming at him. “For here you are, safely arrived.”
The Earl of Brandon watched from the top of the marble steps. Estelle looked up at him, and he inclined his head. She wondered if he stood there for effect, if he knew how intimidating he looked from down here. But it was, admittedly, a spiteful thought. He might just as easily be standing back to give his sister more freedom to welcome her friends. She caught up the skirt of her carriage dress in one hand and climbed toward him.
“Good day, Lord Brandon,” she said.
“Welcome to Everleigh, Lady Estelle,” he said, offering her his hand.
She remembered from the last time, after he had walked her home to Elm Court, how large his hand was, how completely it enclosed her own. She remembered how she had thought then that he could squash every bone in her hand if he chose. Now, as then, he clasped her hand firmly but with some gentleness too, as though he was fully aware of his own strength and chose deliberately not to demonstrate it. Now, as he hadnotdone then, he bowed over her hand and raised it briefly to his lips. She stopped herself from snatching it away, but only perhaps from long practice. Her hand must have been kissed a hundred times or more before nowby a hundred different men. It had not always been a pleasurable experience, but never before had she felt such a strong urge to pull her hand away.
“Thank you,” she said. “Whoever decided to build the house in this particular spot certainly had an eye for effect.”
“My great-grandfather,” he said. “He also chose to have the drive constructed just where it is for the southern approach. He wished to awe the masses, I believe.”
“I would guess he succeeded,” she said. “I cannot speak for the masses, but Bertrand and I were certainly awed.”
Her brother and Maria had come up to them by then and the two men shook hands, the earl with formal correctness, Bertrand with easy grace. Oh, there was such a contrast between the two men.
“Come inside,” the earl said. “I will have Mrs.Phelps show you to your rooms. Your baggage coach arrived a short while ago, so all should be in readiness for you. She will bring you to the drawing room for tea after you have had time to refresh yourselves.”
“Thank you,” Bertrand said.
“I will take them up myself,” Maria said, linking an arm through Estelle’s. “And I will remain with Estelle until she is ready to come down.”
Her brother nodded without comment. “In half an hour?” he said.
The hall was vast and was clearly intended to awe the visitor just as surely as the approach to the house was. The floor was laid with black and white marble tiles. Huge landscape paintings in gilded frames hung upon the walls. Marble urns set in curved alcoves about the perimeter overflowed with ferns and flowers. The high coved ceiling was painted with scenes from mythology and edged with gold leaf. Wide staircases rose on either side of the hall. Thegrand double doors directly opposite the entryway must lead to the domed room, whatever it was. Maria had promised to give them a tour of the house, Estelle remembered. She looked forward to it.
They ascended the staircase to their right.
“You will both be in the east wing,” Maria told them. “You will have the morning sunlight in your rooms. Some people might find that annoying, but I always love it as well as the sound of birdsong through an open window. I never mind being woken early to such bliss in the summertime. But if you do mind being disturbed, you will find that there are heavy curtains in each room to block the light.”
“Provided a cockerel is not paraded beneath my window to herald the dawn each morning,” Bertrand said, “I doubt my sleep will be disturbed.”
Maria laughed as she indicated the door of his room and then led Estelle to the room next to it. Ah, it was like a spring garden, Estelle saw, all fresh greens and pale yellows and gold.
“It is known as the gold room,” Maria told her. “It is next to my room, though there is a sitting room between them. You must feel free to share it with me.”
“The room is quite lovely,” Estelle said, turning to her friend as she closed the door. “But howareyou, Maria?”
