No sooner had I resolved to channel my unwelcome hurt into anger than we turned off onto a gravel drive.
A house came into view in the distance, just beyond a copse of trees and beyond a small pond. The stone facade had once been a tan shade, I expected, but it was blackened with grit and dirt.
Every window on the second floor had panes missing and one lacked panes entirely, instead boarded up haphazardly. Vines had climbed all the way to the roof long ago, using the stones as footholds, and had since died.
And a solitary, formerly white sheep with a black face stood in front of the house eating the grass that had sprung up in areas of low gravel in the drive.
Underneath the arched front door, a stark form appeared and my heart leapt.
The carriage hadn’t fully stopped before I stumbled out and into Xander’s waiting arms.
“Thank God, you’re all right, Davina. What the bleeding hell were you thinking?” he whisper-shouted into my hair, wrapping his arms tighter around me.
“Xander, please, I’m fine.” And I was, of course, physically entirely unharmed. I rather thought my heart would be damaged for some time.
“And you!” he loud-shouted over my head. “I pay you to have sense. What were you thinking, allowing her to galivant across the entire bleeding country?”
“Allowis a strong word,” Kit grumbled. I felt him skirt around us to stand on the drive. “When have you ever allowed your sister to do anything, Your Grace?”
“You should have put a stop to it!”
“I’m too tired for this,” Kit grumbled. “Talk to your sister. If you want me hanged when you’ve finished, I’ll be around somewhere.”
“It’s not his fault, truly,” I added.
The gravel crunched behind Xander and I pulled away to see Mr. Grayson wearing a sheepish expression. His legs were still too long for the rest of him, but he’d filled out. The adorable little cricket.
“Lady Davina, Kit, good to see you both,” he mumbled, with cheeks flushed.
“Tom,” Kit added and pulled him into a half hug. It was so quiet, I wasn’t entirely certain I hadn’t dreamed it up, but I thought he whispered, “’M happy for you.”
Tom wouldn’t allow him to get a quick release and instead pulled Kit closer. “Thank you,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. It was that moment when I realized Tom had no idea of his reception. He didn’t know how easily Kit had accepted the news about him and Xander in the carriage days before. Kit was his family by marriage, so it made sense he was relieved. “Thank you.”
It was a sincerity I wasn’t used to from my brief interactions with Mr. Grayson. He was quick-witted and jovial, always eager to make light of a tense situation if Kate was to be believed.
“Let’s get you both inside,” Xander muttered, glaring at Kit, though his intensity had lessened after the display with Mr. Grayson.
A few unusual servants took his words as their cue to step into action and haul my trunk off the back of the carriage at Rory’s behest and direct Alfie to the stables.
The sheep took objection to the movement around his—her?—luncheon choice and offered a disgruntledmaaaahbefore charging at a passing servant who dodged him or her with a practiced sidestep.
“You were not jesting about the sheep,” I said, feeling the corner of my lip turn up for the first time in nearly a day.
“No, we never jest about Fenella,” Xander said.
“Fenella?” Kit asked.
“The name came with the sheep, and the sheep came with the house.” Xander guided me inside. The foyer smelled of fresh-cut wood and recently laid lacquer. Everywhere I glanced, there was evidence of Xander and Mr. Grayson’s efforts to restore the house. Dust and various tools I didn’t know the names of were strewn about every available surface.
“There’s, uh, there’s really only a few rooms that are functional at the moment. We rushed to finish up an extra bedroom when we received word of your arrival,” Mr. Grayson explained.
“What are the chances you can show me to a room, any room? His Grace and Lady Davina need to speak,” Kit said.
“Of course. Are you hungry? I can have something sent up.”
“Not particularly. But thank you.” Kit studiously avoided turning his gaze in my direction and his shoulders relaxed a fraction when he followed Tom up the stairs.
“Best avoid this board.” Tom pointed to one that had been painted a bright red. “It’s rotted out and we haven’t had a chance to fix it yet.”
