“Liked it? I was in awe — struck dumb with admiration.”
“I do not remember you being struck dumb, precisely. I thought you were remarkably eloquent. However, I concede the point, and acquit you of having no soul. And now I must finish my letter, or poor Augusta will not know what has become of me.”
She bent her head to her task again, and Simon was left with an odd little smile on his face and the strangest bubble of warmth inside him. What on earth did that mean?
6: The Orangery
Marshfields was vast, Sophia discovered. She had barely grown accustomed to the scale of Staineybank, but the Duke of Camberley’s seat was enormous. The main body of the house was set around a square courtyard, while each corner sprouted a vast additional wing. Fortunately, a footman was stationed at the foot of every stair to direct a girl who might otherwise wander about for hours, at risk of missing something vital, like dinner.
The house was stuffed to the rafters with relations of the duke, come to celebrate the fortieth birthday of the heir. Sophia found herself sharing a room with two other young ladies, Lady Emma Something and Lady Maria Something Else. They tried to explain their connection to the duke, but Sophia lost track in a morass of cousinships. She had the same difficulty explaining her own connection to them.
“My brother is the heir to the Duke of Brinshire, and his wife is descended from a sister of the Duke of Camberley, Lady Rosalind Bucknell, who was thought to have died but did not,and her twin sister was Caroline, the present Duke of Brinshire’s first duchess. Shediddie! So I am sister-in-law to… um, a great-niece of the Duke of Camberley. I think.”
At which point, the two girls’ eyes glazed over.
The numbers filling the house meant that no one dining room was large enough to accommodate all the guests at once. The Staineybank party was assigned to a modestly sized room in one of the outer wings, known as the Blue Room, into which some forty people squeezed each evening. They were, so Lady Emma informed her, the third tier of guests, the most important eating in the State Banqueting Hall in the main building, the lesser beings in the marginally smaller Oak Dining Room.
After dinner, everyone separated into one of several rooms, depending on whether one wished to play cards, listen to music, play billiards or simply sit and chat in one of several drawing rooms. Sophia would have liked to venture to the music room, but she had no idea where it was. Mama was too overwhelmed to wander about and so stayed in their own wing, befriending two or three other matrons. Being accustomed to the modest proportions of Leahollow, and latterly the tiny Norwich house, Marshfields was terrifyingly large to her.
“Imagine if I should become lost and wander off into some unknown quarter,” she said. “Why, I might never be found! It is better to stay here and not go too far afield.”
Sophia would not have minded wandering around the house, for it was symmetrical enough that she did not fear to become entirely lost. Besides, there were plenty of people about. Still, she could not leave Mama, so she dutifully worked on her embroidery as her mama chatted. If only her sisters were with her! There were other young ladies about, and sometimes they came to sit beside her, which was pleasant, but not like having her sisters there. At other times, they stayed away and Sophia had no idea how to make friends with them. It was notsomething she had ever needed to do before. Still, even if she could not talk to them, she could covertly note what they were wearing. Not only was there the need to report fully to Charlotte, Augusta and Maria, but it was imperative that she fit in with the society in which she now found herself. One would not wish to be thought a dowd, but nor would one want to appear too grand. Fortunately, the latter was unlikely, for every lady, it seemed, was wearing her finest gowns and jewels.
One person who looked much as usual was Mr Payne. He still wore the same slightly shabby attire as at Staineybank, making Sophia wonder afresh if he were truly impoverished, or merely eccentric enough not to care about his appearance.
At one dinner, the third after their arrival, she found herself sitting beside Mr Payne at table. In all the strangeness of Marshfields and the loneliness of being without her sisters, he was a beacon of familiarity. Even though she hardly knew him, he smiled at her and felt like something close to a friend in this sea of strangers.
“How do you like Marshfields, Mr Payne? Does it meet your expectations?”
“I had no expectations, Miss Merrington. The description in the guidebooks did not inspire me with any great sense of anticipation.”
“Oh! You do not like it?” she said, astonished. “But… it is huge, and… and very decorative, do you not agree?”
“Very decorative!” he said, eyes twinkling. “Excessive quantities of decoration, in fact. The northern wing is decorated in the Elizabethan style, the west wing in Rococo, the east wing in the modern style, apart from the library, and I cannot even describe the south wing.” He shuddered. “But two of the corner wings are somewhat elegant.”
“I see,” she said, with a little laugh. “I rather like not knowing what may be round the next corner, but I suppose Staineybank does have a greater harmony.”
“Staineybank is beautiful,” he said. “Marshfields is… interesting, perhaps. No doubt in the days of the Plantagenets it was a simple courtyard house — a great hall with a kitchen wing to one side and public rooms on the other, but the owners have tinkered with it unmercifully. Externally, it has a degree of symmetry, but inside… although I take your point about a surprise around every corner. That does lead to some curious juxtapositions of ancient and modern, of the exquisite pinnacle of the craftsman’s art next to… well, less felicitous pieces, shall we say. And then there is the orangery.”
“Oh, have you found it? Lucky you! I should so like to see it, after hearing so much of its wonders. We were given a tour of the house yesterday, but there was no sign of it.”
“The orangery is what I am here for, so I asked. It is where the duke likes to sit, which is probably why you were not taken there. He has not been well, so the orangery has become his retreat from the world, a warm cave to hide away from the frantic activity elsewhere.”
“The poor man! There is nothing worse than being surrounded by people when one is unwell. I was determined to attend a ball once, even though I felt very sickly, and it was not a pleasant experience. The noise! And I was so hot, it was unbearable. I swooned and had to be taken home. Well, we all went home, and my sisters were very cross with me for spoiling their fun. The next day, I went down with influenza, and they got it afterwards, one after the other, even Mama, and so we went nowhere for six weeks. It was dreadful, and we were still at Leahollow then, so we were stuck out in the country, with nothing to do except wait for everyone to get better. The poorduke! I wonder he holds this ball if he is unwell. He could perhaps delay it until he has recovered.”
“My understanding is that he feels he might not recover,” Mr Payne said in a low voice. “He has been ill for some time, and although he is a little better, he is not a young man, and is feeling his age. Or so it is said below stairs. The footman who attends me is full of such gossip, and it could be moonshine for all I know.”
This was too tragic for Sophia to contemplate, so she fell silent and since he seemed to have nothing further to say, they both turned their attention to their plates.
Later, Sophia settled with reluctance to her stitchery again while Mama talked to another lady of her anticipation of the impending grandchild. The other lady had around a dozen grandchildren, she said, although she seemed hazy as to the precise number, and had much to say on the subject of wet nurses and nursery maids and the necessity for the new mother to drink beef tea in vast quantities. Sophia could not summon the least interest in such matters, which all sounded most alarming to her ears.
When the gentlemen abandoned their port and masculine discussions, Mr Payne was among the first to enter the small drawing room where Sophia sat. He stood uncertainly on the threshold, surveying the room, and for a moment she thought he might decide there was no one of interest there and go in search of better company. However, his eye fell on her and with a little smile he headed straight for her.
That was a surprise! Before she had time to do more than school her features into an expression of polite welcome, he was upon her.
“Miss Merrington, since you have not yet seen the orangery, perhaps you would like to visit it now?”
An even bigger surprise, but of course there was only one possible answer. “I should love to see it, Mr Payne.”
