“I’m very glad to hear it. Do keep it up. There will always be a need for good drivers.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He touched his cap as she walked past him and up the steps into Seton Hall, where her butler and housekeeper awaited her.
The latter was wringing her hands. “Mrs. Chaney, we’re that glad to see you home at last.”
Grace held back a sigh. “And I’m happy to be here. I know you must have worried, but the weather turned bad so quickly that there was no chance to get a message to you all.”
“We guessed that might be it, Ma’am,” responded Tortle, her butler. “And since you would not venture out in such inclement weather, we tried not to be unduly concerned.” He shot a reproving look at the housekeeper.
“Well actually I was out of town. Marooned, as it were,” she smiled. “But since I was with Sir Peregrine Hawkesbury, and a delightful family with five children, being isolated for a day was not a hardship.”
“But you had no change of clothing, Ma’am,” exclaimed the scandalised housekeeper. “However did you manage?” The woman’s eyes were wide as she took Grace’s bonnet and nervously straightened the ribbons.
“Quite well, as it happens.”I took them off and slept naked.
The memory of that occurrence made Grace shiver, and she moved away from the door and into her own front hall.
“Well you just come right into the parlour and tea will be here before you know it. You must be chilled, and ready for a bath too, I’ll be bound.”
“Of course, Mrs. Heathers.”
Her response to the housekeeper was routine, since the comforting familiarity of her surroundings began to soothe her mind. The fire in the small parlour was blazing, and everything was where she had left it a few weeks ago. Her trip to see Max and Kitty had been an impulsive pleasure; what it led to had been unexpected and wonderful.
Now it was over.
She took a breath. The window showed sunlight against leafless branches, and dull evergreens recovering from their icy bath. The view was as familiar as her own face, since she’d called this house home as a child, and again as a widow.
So why wasn’t she more delighted to be here? Where was the sense of peace, of serenity, that usually flooded her after being away?
Walking out of the parlour, she crossed the hall to the music room. There was no fire burning in here, but it wasn’t cold enough to make her shiver. She moved to the piano and sat, opening the lid and staring at the keys. They had become her friends and the music she made with them had become both her parties and her pleasures. But now, sitting there, her hands hovering…she realised there was something very wrong.
Something missing.
Abruptly she rose and closed the piano.
“Mrs. Heathers,” she called as she walked back into the hall.
“Yes, Ma’am?” The woman hurried from a side door. “Your tea isn’t quite ready…just a few more moments.”
“I’ll have it in my room. I want a bath, a change of clothes—the blue riding habit I think, because it’s warm—and a horse.”
“A…a…horse?”
“Yes, a horse. I have to ride somewhere. Please have Susan lay out my things?” She began to mount the stairs, then glanced back. “You did understand all that, right?”
The housekeeper closed her mouth with a snap and nodded. “Of course, Ma’am. Only…are you sure you want to go back out? It’s Christmas Eve, don’t forget.”
“I haven’t,” chuckled Grace. “Believe me, I haven’t.”
“But…but…” The woman was clearly struggling and Grace took pity on her.
“Where am I going?”
“Yes…”
“I have to collect something, Mrs. Heathers. In fact…” she grinned. “It’s my Christmas gift.”
