“Dear me! He puts up with all that nastiness toward himself andhis wife because of money?”
“You’d be surprised what people will do for money.” Nate put his hands in his pockets and gazed at the horizon. “It’s easy to forget when submerged in this beautiful landscape, but it’s a cruel world out there for the destitute.”
An agonizing image of her broken papa holding his pistol to his temple flashed in Bridget’s mind, and she gasped out loud, shocked by the pain it engendered within her chest.
“I’m sorry.” Nate put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “That was insensitive of me. I wasn’t thinking.”
Bridget nodded. “I know. It’s not your fault—it’s only that your words ring so true. I’ve been sheltered my whole life, living in this wonderful little bubble while poor Papa struggled all on his own.”
“What could you have done?”
“I’ve heard it said that some young women marry wealthy men to save their family fortune, but Papa never pressed me to marry. He talked of my having a Season in London, but I kept putting it off because the thought of leaving him and Villa De Lacey distressed me so. This year, I turned one-and-twenty and hinted that I might finally be ready for a Season in London, but he seemed less enthusiastic. He was distracted. I didn’t understand it at the time, but now I realize that he didn’t have the money to fund a Season for me. And I’m afraid that his frequent trips to London were made in order to raise money to do so.” She swallowed the rising lump in her throat. “Instead, he ended up losing everything.”
“It’s not your fault. If anyone is to blame, it’s my brother. He is merciless.”
“At least you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Bridget pointed at two more carriages coming up the long pathway that snaked from Villa De Lacey’s gated entrance toward the house.
“We shall see, but let’s hope so.” Nate narrowed his eyes as he peered at the approaching vehicles. “Who remains on the guest list?”he asked.
Bridget consulted her list. “Only the Eamont family. It’s Lord and Lady Eamont, and Miss Adelia—” she stopped. Nate was no longer by her side.
She turned to see him walking backward toward the house, his face pale.
“Where are you going?” she called out to him.
But he only shook his head at the arriving carriages while muttering something she couldn’t hear. Then he turned and disappeared into the villa.
*
“Lord and LadyEamont,” the driver of the coach announced as he opened the carriage door. A short and somewhat stocky gentleman with a generous head of salt-and-pepper hair and long, bushy sideburns stepped out of the coach. He wore a smart navy-blue tailcoat over a cream waistcoat, which had been paired with cream trousers and black boots. He was followed by his much taller, sharp-faced wife, who wore an emerald-green traveling dress.
After she stepped out, two young ladies, the image of Lady Eamont, both with their tight brown curls secured in a top-knot bun, emerged from the carriage. They wore identical travel dresses. One in sapphire blue and the other in burgundy.
“The Honorable Miss Adelia Eamont and the Honorable Miss Lydia Eamont,” the driver announced.
Out of the second carriage, the Eamont’s lady’s maid and valet emerged.
Bridget stepped forward to greet the family.
“Lord and Lady Eamont, welcome to Villa De Lacey. I’m Miss De Lacey, your hostess.”
“Ourhostess?” Lady Eamont gave Bridget a cold stare. “I thoughtMr. Squires, the Earl of Westerly’s brother, owns this place.”
“Yes,” the two young ladies spoke in unison, “we thought the same. It’s the reason we agreed to this arduous journey.”
Bridget forced a smile. “You are correct. Mr. Squires does indeed”—she cleared her throat, finding that she had to force the words out—“own Villa De Lacey, and he is currently upstairs entertaining some of his guests. He has appointed me as hostess of the inn to see to the comfort of his guests. So please do not hesitate to ask me if there is anything you need during your stay with us.”
Lord Eamont merely frowned in response, as if Bridget’s presence continued to confuse him.
“We will relay any concerns we have to our servants as always,” Lady Eamon said haughtily. “They will be the ones to address any problems or requests with you.”
“Oh, but I’m not a servant,” Bridget tried to explain, but Lady Eamont and her two daughters turned up their noses as if breathing the same air as Bridget offended them.
Bridget’s chest flamed. She may not be part of the ton, but she was as much a lady as they were. Could they not see the size of the house in which she’d been raised?
As though reading her thoughts, Lady Eamont turned to look at the sprawling garden and the magnificent view of Lake Windermere nestled amongst the green hills of Westmorland.
“Do you know, girls, now that Mr. Squires has his own, rather magnificent, estate, I imagine it won’t be long before he takes a wife.”
