“In the bedroom, miss, on the dresser.”
“Thank you, Emily. Where shall I go when I’m ready?”
“Where would you like to go, miss?” the girl asked, looking mystified, as if Julia might want to ride a camel to Egypt.
“Never mind, thank you.” She would make her way downstairs and find her hosts.
“Yes, miss. And I’ll find out about those gowns by the time Christmas dinner is served.”
***
JULIA COULDN’T RECALLthe last time she went downstairs in a grand country manor house to meet the mother of an earl with whom she’d had inappropriate relations.
Of course, that was because it was as implausible a situation as any she’d ever known. This did not happen to a vicar’s daughter who only went to balls at the grace of her sister’s good fortune.
The Marshfields’ country house was probably similar to where Sarah currently resided in Great Oakley. Massive ceilings yawned overhead, a thick polished oak banister ran smoothly under Julia’s hand, old portraits of even older people stared down at her, and chilly air gave her goosebumps in the stairwell despite the wool she wore.
Reaching a two-story front hall which she’d been too exhausted to take note of upon arrival, she crossed its checkerboard black-and-white marble floor. Dust motes floated on the sunbeams streaming through the many windows facing the front drive.
Everywhere was luxury, albeit a little faded, including large mirrors, even larger paintings, oak and mahogany furniture, and gilded whatnots whose sparkle of gold caught her eye.
There was an open doorway on either side of the entrance hall, which she would swear was forty feet long yet hadn’t seemed so very large in the wee hours. Passing through the entry at the far end, she traversed a small anteroom before ending up in a spacious billiard room. Julia continued on through more doorways and rooms as it appeared the house was built upon a square of connected chambers.
Finally, she heard voices and entered a salon with a small dining table for six. All conversation stopped and two similar pairs of eyes turned to regard her.
The earl rose to his feet, welcoming her with a smile.
“There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you were hopelessly lost.” Jasper turned to a handsome woman in mauve-colored silk with dark brown hair and the very mirror of his mischievous gaze.
“This is my mother, the Dowager Countess of Marshfield. Mother, this is Miss Sudbury, our guest.”
“You are most welcome, my dear,” said his mother. “Merry Christmas.”
The knot of nerves inside Julia loosened at the woman’s warm tone.
“Thank you, my lady. Merry Christmas.” She curtsied, feeling the moment demanded such formality.
“Heavens,” Lady Marshfield exclaimed. “Do sit down. You are rail thin and clearly in need of sustenance. Jasper, fill her plate at once.”
Instead of a sideboard, the tureens and platters of food were in the center of the round table. It seemed odd to have the earl serve her when she could perfectly well reach the food herself, but she had no intention of gainsaying a single thing the dowager countess ordained.
Taking a seat, she watched as Jasper took the clean plate from her setting and leaned forward.
“Eggs? Of course,” he answered, not waiting for a response. “Sausages and bacon, creamed potatoes, some of Cook’s best rolls and jam or she’ll have my hide.”
His mother agreed with a quick, “She would.”
And then Julia found a mountain of food placed in front of her before Jasper murmured “Merry Christmas” in her ear and regained his seat.
The dowager countess stared at her boldly for a moment. But her question was nothing more than a benign, “Tea or coffee? I assume you’ve already had chocolate.”
“Yes, my lady, I have. It was perfectly prepared and not the least bit grainy.” Julia ordered herself to stop her babbling. “I would like tea, please.”
Wondering with terror if the dowager countess herself was going to pour, suddenly, a footman whom Julia hadn’t noticed pressed against the wall like a statue leaped forward, lifted the correct pot from the table and poured her a cup.
“It should still be hot,” Lady Marshfield said. “If not, we’ll get a fresh one.”
“It’s fine,” Julia said.
