‘Oh, dear.’ She pressed a hand to her mouth. ‘Well, at least your intentions were good, but maybe this time you should use the bell?’
‘I would, except that you just asked your maid to tell everyone to take a break.’
‘Oh, yes.’ She bit her lip. ‘So I did.’
‘How about I call out from the top of the staircase so that everybody knows I’m coming? Now that I’ve been downstairsonce, a second time shouldn’t cause quite so much panic, should it? I can make my own damn pot of tea if necessary.’
‘I’m sure it won’t come to that.’ She chuckled. ‘Just be sure to call loudly.’
‘Understood.’ He made a bow. ‘I won’t be long.’
Florence laid herself down on the chaise longue as he shut the door behind him, flinging her arms over her head and stretching her legs out. It was so soft and comfortable, and the fire was so delightfully warm, she thought it would be easy to drift off to sleep here in his study. She could have a quick nap, surrounded by books and…
She opened her eyes again with a snap. She was in his study. Alone. And Mrs Fitch had told her that he kept his letter of ‘instructions’ from his father on his desk. This would be the perfect opportunity to take a look.
Ifshe wanted to take a look, that was.
She sat up, her heart pounding. Did she? Should she? Impulsively, she leapt up and hurried across the room, telling herself she could decide on the way because, whatever she did, she needed to make up her mind quickly. It wouldn’t take Leo long to fetch a tray of tea. The kitchen staff would want to be rid of him as soon as possible…
She went round to the far side of the desk and quickly surveyed the objects laid out on the surface. Two candles, a pen, a quill pot and, peeking out from beneath a large ledger…a letter, folded but with the seal broken.
Before she could think better of it, she slid it out and opened it up.
‘To my son, Leopold Claridge, on his elevation to the marquessate…’
She diverted her gaze mid-sentence, struck with a sudden pang of guilt. The letter was addressed to him, not her. It was his private correspondence, which meant that it reallywasn’t any of her business…except that itwas, wasn’t it? If her husband was living his life according to some ‘instructions’ laid out by his father, didn’t she at least deserve to know what those instructions were? And if Mrs Fitch and Mr Sewell both had copies, why shouldn’t she read it too? Besides, if Leo really wanted to keep the contents of the letter secret, he wouldn’t leave it on his desk where anyone could read it…would he?
She threw a swift look at the door and then carried on reading.
‘Your first and most urgent task is to secure the future of Rainton through marriage and the siring of an heir…’
Chapter Eighteen
It wasn’t going to be a summer fair in the traditional sense, Leo reflected, standing at the front door with Florence. It certainly wasn’t going to be anything like the ones he remembered from his childhood. Back then, the sun had always shone, the birds had always sung, the butterflies had always danced, and the whole event had looked like a painting of some bucolic wonderland. Today, by contrast, the skies were a heavy slate-grey, the birds and butterflies were sheltering in trees and hedges—if they had any sense anyway—and even the most talented of artists would have struggled to make the scene look inviting. And yet…for the first time in a very long time, he was actually looking forward to it. This fair, he suspected, was going to be fun.
‘Here we go.’ He smiled at Florence as the first cart-load of guests arrived in the courtyard. In a few minutes, the house would be filled with his tenants and their families. It was strange…and slightly nerve-racking. His father, though adamant about the fair’s always going ahead, had only ever made token appearances, walking through the crowd like a king in front of his subjects, judging the competitions and then making a brief speech, before retreating back to his palace. He and Florence, on the other hand, would be acting as hosts, opening their home and welcoming everyone inside…mingling.
His father had never mingled with anyone outside thetonin his life.
‘Here we go,’ Florence echoed, her eyes fixed on the approaching cart.
Leo kept his gaze on her, trying to read her expression. She’d been acting differently ever since he’d proudly carried a tea tray back to his study, a feat he’d achieved despite the half-horrified, half-amused reactions of his kitchen staff. It wasn’t an obvious change. Nobody else would likely have noticed, but the sparkle in her eyes had faded again, replaced by a muted, withdrawn look. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. One minute they’d been laughing and teasing each other and then…this.
‘Is everything all right?’ he murmured.
‘Of course.’ She gave him a swift sidelong look. ‘I’m just nervous.’
‘Ah.’ He nodded with understanding. That made sense. He was feeling moderately anxious about the situation himself. Only something told him there was more to it than that…
There was no time to enquire further, however, as people were already heading up the stone steps,alsolooking nervous. Or, in several cases, downright terrified. He couldn’t blame them. Tenants had never been allowed anywhere near the front door in the past. His father would have had apoplexy at the very idea. Some of the new arrivals probably thought the message they’d received that morning had been a mistake and they were about to find themselves thrown out on their ear, which meant that it washisjob to set them at ease.
If only he knew how. How did one go about setting people at ease?
‘Welcome to Rainton.’ He inclined his head to the new arrivals, hating how stiff and formal he sounded.
There was a flurry of bows and curtseys while he racked his brains for something else to say. Should he mention the weather? Several people looked quite soggy, but it seemed rude to mention the fact.
Fortunately, Florence saved him by stepping forward and gesturing to the small army of footmen standing to one side. ‘Please come in. If you’d all like to leave your coats and hats, Mr Rimmer will take you inside for some tea. I’m sure everybody would like to warm up. Then we have some activities set up for the children in the long gallery.’
