Worth it.
I was in the en suite bathroom of my room at Burleigh House in Kensington.
The outside was a fabulous vision of black wrought iron fencing capped with gold spikes, blond gravel, and pots containing well pruned trees, or poofed or coned shrubs, and bright red geraniums.
Although this house had been owned by the duchy for two hundred years, Battle had pretty much divested it of anything not from this millennia. It was thoroughly modern, minimalist, bright, sleek, sophisticated and classy.
I loved it.
We had a driver waiting for us at Paddington Station. He loaded us in a big SUV and took us to Kew, which was beautiful. We had lunch there, and although I knew Tempie was done about fifteen minutes in, we crawled over everything, because Chassie was happy.
We loaded back up in the car and were taken to the house.
Prue gave me the tour.
The housekeeper’s name was Mrs. Pattinson.
I met her and she seemed very nice, definitely delighted to have us all there.
There was no butler. Prue explained Mrs. Pattinson had cleaning ladies who came in once a week to do a thorough clean of the place, but other than that, she got Battle’s food in, cooked for him, dealt with his dry cleaning, made his bed, etc.
There were eight bedrooms, all with en suites.
And they were fabulous, including mine, which was decorated in mauves and taupes, had a massive fainting couch as the end-of-bed bench, and amazing lighting.
There wasn’t a dressing table like at The Downs.
But I was oh-so not going to quibble.
It was almost time to meet downstairs for a drink and to wait for Battle’s return, whereupon we’d head out to dinner.
I couldn’t wait to see him.
Bartholomew was lazing in the doorway to the bathroom.
He’d been excited about our reunion.
Now he was sleeping it off.
And I was putting the finishing touches on another low chignon, this time I had some sultry curls escaping.
For a trip that required eveningwear, I’d of course brought a cocktail dress in a soft jade satin, streamline slim skirt that fell just above my knees, and a blousy, slouchy top that fell off one shoulder.
Bonus, it worked with the diamonds and champagne heels, the only fancy jewelry and footwear I owned.
But my mind was on Chassie, who absolutely seemed happy at the gardens, but grew silent and reflective in the car and disappeared the minute we got to the house.
Even though she did seem a bit panicky before we left The Downs, she’d settled in since and gave the impression she was fine.
Now I was worried we pushed her too far too fast.
I heard a knock on the bedroom door and called out, “Come in!” thinking it was Prue, or Tempie, but hoping it was Chassie, even if she was just coming to get me, but better if she wanted to hang and chat.
I heard the door open and called, “I’ll be right out,” and headed that way.
I was about to step over Bartie, when he adjusted to come lugubriously to his feet.
Since I had one foot hovering over him, he caught it, catching me off guard, taking me off kilter, and with a truncated cry, I went flying.
