Elizabeth had stopped her retreat but knew not what to say.
“Was that not what you wanted to hear?” Lady Preston asked.
“Well, I…I confess, I have been unsure what I wished to do with it.”
Her ladyship gave a curt nod. “And now you know. You are as contrary as your aunt, I can tell. So you will keep it, because I have said you should not.”
Elizabeth could not deny that hearing it said so bluntly that she should get rid of it had helped her to better know her own mind.
“Besides,” Lady Preston continued, “if Agatha left it to you, she must have thought you capable of seeing to the business. I never knew her to overestimate anybody. She always thought less of people than they deserved.” She stood up—not abruptly, exactly, for she was too unsteady on her feet for any real haste, but rather unexpectedly nevertheless—and shuffled towards her door. “It is grown windy. Good day, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth could not help but laugh once Lady Preston had disappeared inside, for it had been such a bizarre encounter. Still, if her ladyship’s predictionabout the weather was correct, it was unlikely they would often encounter each other up there, and if they did, she would be better prepared for the challenge next time.
Supposing she ought to return home before anyone began to worry at her absence, she made her way back down through the house. As she descended the last flight of stairs, she received a second fright: a man was standing just inside the front door, peering around the vestibule just as she had done on her first visit. He looked exceedingly well-to-do, his clothes finely cut, and with every fashionable manner of fob, swagger stick, and tie pin glinting about his person.
His eyes came to rest on her, and though his expression remained complacent, he pursed his lips and cocked a hip, one hand upon it. “I do hope this does not mean I have competition in securing this house.”
“Competition? No, sir, I?—”
“You look too finely dressed to be the housekeeper. Are you the housekeeper?” He looked about and chuckled. “If you are, I must say the place does not speak well of your abilities.”
Elizabeth remained where she was on the stairs. He did not look dangerous, but she had no wish to test him. “The house belongs to me. I was rather wondering why you thought it acceptable to enter without permission.”
“Belongs to you? Well now!” He removed his hat, revealing a shock of luxuriant blond hair, and bowed, after which he straightened and approached her, making a strange clicking noise with his tongue. She understood it when a snow-white dog appeared.
“So, you live here, then?” he asked.
“No, sir, I do not. Might I trouble you for an introduction? Since you are already in my house.”
“Lord Saye,” he said in a distracted tone, for he had begun to peer past her up the stairs. “How many bedchambers?”
“I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
“I require at least eight,” he declared loftily, moving another step closer. “Ten, if possible.”
This close, Elizabeth wondered whether they had met before, for she had the unnerving sense that his face seemed familiar, but she could not place him and did not recognise the name.
“Eight…what?” she enquired.
“Bedchambers. I mean to be here with a family party for the summer. Perhaps we might hire someone to…spruce it up a bit?”
“I do not think you understand?—”
He abruptly stopped looking around and pinned her with a sharp look. “Madam, you find yourself in possession of the only unleased house in Brighton. And, happily for you, possibly the only man alive willing to lease it from you in its current state has just arrived at your door.”
He bent to pick up a shard of what might once have been a vase and peered at it distastefully. “Stay close,” he said to the dog. “It would not do for you to cut your paw.” He tossed the fragment away to a corner, primly brushing ceramic dust from his fingertips. “You know, a rug would do wonders for the echo in here.”
“I beg your pardon, but the house has only recently come into my possession. I have not fully decided what I wish to do with it.”
His expression brightened. “Do you wish to sell it? Name your price.”
“No…no, I do not wish to sell it.” The words felt comfortingly right, further confirming Lady Preston’s assertion. “But I have many decisions yet to make. I am still in the process of instructing workmen.”
That was not wholly true, for Agatha had arranged things wonderfully, but Lord Saye did not need to know that.
“Then it is even more in your favour that I shall be leasing it.” He turned away and resumed his inspection of the hall, his dog at heel beside him. “Mention my name and the workmen will be tripping over themselves to sign on.”
That would, indeed, be an advantage, though Elizabeth had no way of knowing whether his reputation was equal to his opinion of it. “Even so, there is an inordinate amount of work to be done before the house is habitable.”
