“Hopefully—” Ariadne’s mind ran on Isolde and Marigold. “—they can come visit soon.”
The carriage stopped, and she had to hold Emily from jumping out of the vehicle the moment it stood still. When the footman opened the door and helped her out, she was out first, and then with Emily by her side, they headed to the doors.
As they headed to the door, Ariadne rested a hand on Emily’s shoulder; the footman admitted them into a well-appointedfoyer with a row of potted plants running under the wide windows and curricle chairs.
“My lady, welcome to the Hamden House,” another footman, a very young man this time, probably not even twenty years, bowed. “May I take your card?”
Fishing a card from her reticule, she handed it over and startled when the young man paled. He bowed so low that his nose touched his knees.
“I am so, so sorry, Your Grace,” the lad said. “I did not know, as Lady Emily has come with other misses as his companion and I?—”
“It’s all right,” Ariadne assured him. “Please, take a breath. I won’t tell a soul and endanger your job. I promise.”
The lad nodded, but his hands were shaking, “I will be right back, Your Grace.”
“That’s strange,” Emily pouted. “They usually just show me to Amilia’s playroom.”
“That is because I am here,” Ariadne replied. “I am sure the lady or lord of the house would like to see me.”
In moments, a lady appeared at the top of the stairs, short and dainty; she was a vision of flawlessness in her flounced russet dress with Bishop’s sleeves. With strawberry blond hair, piledhigh, Lady Hamden did not look as Ariadne had expected her to be.
She looks so young. Is she my age?
The lady came down the stairs, her eyes as wide as dinner plates, but by the time she curtsied and brought her head up, the shock had been erased from her face.
“It is an honor to receive you, Your Grace.” She said. “I honestly did not believe Poll when he told me you were here with Lady Emily. I had heard rumors, all of London has, I am sure, about Duke Holloway’s marriage, but I never thought you would be visiting my humble home.”
“I am happy to be here,” Ariadne replied, feeling genuine warmth coming from the lady. “Emily wanted to see Lady Amelia, and I could not say no.”
“Amelia is in her playroom,” the lady said, while smiling at Emily. “Do you remember the way, dear?”
“I do,” Emily smiled widely before curtsying. “Thank you.”
As she went off, Lady Hamden asked, “I would love to have some tea with you.”
“I would like that, thank you,” Ariadne replied.
“Please follow me, Your Grace,” the lady said. “Call me Clara.”
“If you will call me Ariadne,” she replied.
“I wish my husband were here so he would meet you, but please, let me get my daughter,” Clara said as she let the way up the stairs to a well-appointed drawing room. “I know she would love to meet you.”
As the lady left, two footmen and a maid, one of them Poll from earlier, came in bearing laden trays of tea and finger foods.
“Feeling better now?” She asked him.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Poll bowed.
Clara returned with both girls. Amelia was a mirror image of her mother, with rosy-blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
“Amelia, I want you to meet Emily’s new mother, Her Grace Ariadne Greymont.”
The child smiled and bobbed out a curtsy. “Pleased to meet you, Your Grace.”
“Same to you,” Ariadne replied.
“You girls may go off and play now,” Clara nodded.
