The Negro nodded and went to the following carriage, where Martha and the valets were descending.
“Well, now, Winnie dear, let me look at you. Oh yes, marriage agrees with you. Such a bloom on those cheeks! Walter, you look well, too. And Alfred — ha! You look the same as ever, you old rogue. Come inside, out of this damp weather.”
Aunt Sofia, it transpired, had spent three days at the Grafton Street house with Percival, arranging everything to her satisfaction. Most of the principal rooms were still under holland covers, but she had ordered one of the drawing rooms, the dining room and a small parlour uncovered, the latter to be used for breakfast.
“There is no one else in residence at the moment, for everyone is still in the country. Alfred, Mrs Mawbey will take you to your rooms. I reserve the right to show Mr and Mrs Atherton to their apartment myself. Lord, how charming that sounds! Mrs Atherton! This way… yes, we are going up the other staircase. But how is Lily? Is she getting nervous? The wedding is only a month away now, is it not?”
“I cannot tell you, for she and Mama have gone to Wallingham Manor to inspect it.”
“Goodness! That was a sudden start. You wanted to do that, I know, but I did not think Lily one to care much about furnishings and so forth.”
“It is not so much the furnishings, but it troubled Mama that Lily had never met Mr Lomax’s mother. Since she is to play such a major part in their lives, she felt it was as well to get matters on a proper footing, so to speak.”
“So when you say they have gone to inspect the Manor, you mean they are to inspect Mrs Lomax Senior.”
Winnie laughed. “Something like that. They will only stay a week, but I think it will be good for Lily to see what she is taking on. Aunt, surely we have walked the length of the street by now.”
“This house is enormous, is it not? But we are here at last. This is your apartment.”
She threw open a door and ushered them into another world. Gone were the pale colours and delicate modern furnishings. Instead, they were back in the era of the Jacobeans, with dark wood panelling on the walls, ornately plastered ceilings and heavy oak furniture.
“I had no idea this place existed,” Walter said. “Is this where the legendary Great-uncle Arbuthnot lived?”
“Was that his name?” Aunt Sofia said. “A very ancient gentleman, I was told, who moved here from a medieval manor house, and brought all the furniture with him, even the panelling. He shut himself away in here and never came out until he was carried out in his coffin. It has been untouched for years, and only used when the house is full to the rafters, but the countess said you may do as you please with it… new furniture, redecorate, whatever you want.”
“The countess?” Walter said, startled. “My mother?”
“Yes. It was all her idea — she wrote to me, you know, and suggested I see that everything was made ready for you. I should never have dared otherwise. She thought this apartment would suit you, but I am not sure. It is so… old-fashioned. It will take a lot of work to improve it, but the countess said the earl would foot the bill.”
Walter laughed. “He said the same thing. It will be a fine project for the two of you. So what do we have here? How many rooms?”
“Four — a drawing room, a small parlour which makes a very cosy dining room if you want to be private, a bedroom with dressing room, and something that was a book room, but I have converted it to a second dressing room, and it could be another bedroom if one of you gets crotchety. Great-uncle Arbuthnot wasa single gentleman, I presume, and had no need for more than one bed.”
“Nor have we,” Winnie said, blushing.
“Well, you are both good-natured, so perhaps you will never need it, but Edmund and I married at an age when we were both set in our ways, and a bed in the dressing room has kept us from murdering each other more than once. There is a vast nursery on the top floor, when the time comes that you need it. Ah, yes, the service stairs are tucked away behind that panel there. Thank you, Percival, just put the tray on the table. Tea, if you want it, some cakes and suchlike. Walter, there are decanters in that sideboard there. Dinner at six. Shall I order baths for you, at five, say?”
“That would be wonderful,” Winnie said.
“Very well. Then I shall leave you to rest and settle in and… well, make yourselves at home. Since you very kindly invited us to dine with you tonight, Edmund and I will see you later.”
With a quick kiss for Winnie, and a nod to Walter, she was gone.
‘Make yourselves at home’…how strange that was. A proper home of their own! After five days in the guest bedroom at Birchall House, and three days of travelling, they had finally come home. Hand in hand, they walked from room to room, saying little, merely looking. The arrival of their luggage, together with Martha and Rashleigh, drove them back to the drawing room.
“Tea?” Walter said.
“I would prefer wine… or Madeira.”
Walter poured, but then set both glasses down and scooped her into his arms. “Well, Mouse, what do you think of our new home? It is a trifle… dark, is it not?”
“It is in the old style, that is all. It reminds me a little of Aunt Minna’s house in York. They have some rooms with panelledwalls and heavy furniture, the sort that needs four hefty men to shift. I do not dislike it. With a few colourful carpets and some paintings on the walls, it will be charming. Do you dislike it so much?”
“I cannot dislike any place that has you in it, Mouse.” He hugged her tight as he spoke, and his smile was so warm that she blushed.
“Why do you call me Mouse?”
“Oh… I beg your pardon. You dislike it, I had forgot.”
