“Truth be told, you’re not the only late additions we had to the gathering. My aunt also invited a mystery woman. We’ve all yet to meet her.”
“How curious.” Tate ducked to miss a low crossbeam. “Anyone we know?”
“Heavens, no.” Wainbridge shook his head. “I don’t even recall her name. Afriendfrom London, so my aunt claims, and yet neither Isabella nor I had ever heard of her.” The door squeaked on ancient hinges as Wainbridge opened it, and light from the chamber’s two windows spilled to the corridor. “Here’s where you’ll stay.”
Tate entered first, bending to fit under the low threshold, and Lucas followed. The chamber’s simplicity struck him—a slanted ceiling, two small beds, a plainly woven rug over a wood-planked floor, two straight-backed wooden chairs, and a washbasin—absolutely none of the extravagance present on the lower floors.
Tate snorted in disdain.
“Oh, come, man, it’s not that bad,” quipped Wainbridge. “Next time you’re at Cloverton, you can have your pick of the house. For now, this will have to suit.” He extended the key to Lucas. “You’d best not tarry. Dinner will be served within the hour, and unless you two want to appear like ruffian highwaymen, you’d best be about it.”
With a wink Wainbridge left and closed the door behind him.
Tate dropped to a bed, tossed his discarded hat next to him, and scratched his head. “There’s barely room for my trunk.”
“You’ll survive.” Lucas popped open his satchel and prepared to clean up. “Besides, you’ve talked of naught but MissHaven for days. If you don’t want to meet her with mud splattered on your breeches, you’d best stop complaining and wash up.”
Lucas could appeal to Tate’s vanity, because to his friend, that was all that mattered—flirting, impressing ladies, and improving his standing amongst all the guests.
Lucas needed to impress as well, but his goal was far different than Tate’s. Tate possessed fortune enough to last him two lifetimes. Lucas did not—he had only his knowledge, his skill as a purveyor, and the ability to make people feel comfortable. He would need all three if he was to make a success of this event.
Chapter8
Never would Olivia have believed that such a beautiful structure could exist. She’d seen sketches of such stately homes, and the occasional pastoral painting featuring such a scene would come across the shop from time to time. But the charcoal drawings and faded renderings could not prepare her for the magnificence before her.
She spied it from the carriage in fleeting glimpses between the ashes and oaks. The late-afternoon sun highlighted Cloverton Hall’s warm gray stones and glinted from the myriad intricate multipaned windows, the effect of which bathed the surroundings in a golden glow.
The moment the carriage rocked to a full halt, the door was opened and a footman dressed in deep emerald livery took great care in assisting Mrs.Milton from the carriage. Olivia and Teague alighted from the conveyance after her.
How Olivia’s muscles relished the change of position, and as the cool breeze brushed against her flushed cheeks and forehead, her optimism and eagerness flamed anew as she soaked in the details around her.
A throng of servants stood at the ready, and they curtsied and bowed toward her as she passed them. Intimidation rushed her. Would they treat her as such if they knew where she came from and who she really was? Even with her doubts, she’d not allow herself to feel awkward or out of place. Shecouldnot, for if she entertained such thoughts, they might lodge in her mind and refuse to leave.
She followed Mrs.Milton up the stone stairs, through the intricately carved oak doors nearly twice her height. Each step expanded her glimpse of what awaited her behind the door. And then her breath caught.
Once inside the glistening vestibule, she lifted her gaze to take in the painted ceiling, more than two stories above her head. Extravagance surrounded her: elegant carvings of stone and Italian marble busts perched upon their pedestals. Fresh magenta dahlias and fuchsia chrysanthemums overflowed a footed silver bowl. Every surface gleamed in the radiant sunlight streaming through the symmetrical banks of tall, north-facing paned windows. It was as if she’d entered another world—one of lavish splendor, of the sort of life she had only dreamed existed.
Olivia gathered her wits about her and untied her poke bonnet’s satin bow, self-conscious of her trembling hands.
As she lifted the hat from her head, a young blonde woman, clad in a long-sleeved empire-waist organza gown in the palest shade of goldenrod, hurried into the vestibule with her arms outstretched toward Mrs.Milton. Her glossy, honey-hued hair was gathered atop her head, and her genuine smile drew Olivia to her.
The attractive lady reached for Mrs. Milton’s hand, pressed a kiss to her withered cheek, and stepped back. “Aunt, we expected you hours ago! How worried we were when we received the news of the carriage’s wheel. I hope you did not encounter any additional trouble.”
Mrs.Milton barely turned her attention from her gloves. “No more trouble than normal.”
The woman turned her mahogany eyes toward Olivia, her cheeks rosy, her enthusiastic expression bright. “And you must be MissBrannon. I’ve been so eager to make your acquaintance ever since we learned you would be joining us. Welcome to Cloverton Hall!”
Olivia smiled, determined to match the kind energy. She returned a curtsey. “Thank you. I’m so happy for the invitation.”
Mrs.Milton removed her kid gloves finger by finger. “This is my niece, MissIsabella Wainbridge.”
Olivia refused to allow surprise to write itself on her features. Mrs.Milton had not mentioned a niece, not even once through the entire three-day journey, and yet Olivia found it a gratifying revelation. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“You must be exhausted,” MissWainbridge continued amiably, as if oblivious to her aunt’s brusqueness. “I will call for some tea, and you can—”
“Have tea sent to our chambers,” Mrs.Milton interrupted and fixed her sharp eyes on her niece. “I trust the Blue Room has been prepared for MissBrannon?”
MissWainbridge’s brow furrowed. “The Gold Room has been prepared for MissBrannon, on the east end of the first floor with the other ladies. It is so lovely, and it—”
