“Not long at all, Mama. We are practically betrothed, as it is,” Adelia said.
Bridget frowned.Practically betrothed? Was Nate somehow involved with this woman? Had he made promises to her that he no longer wished to keep? Is that why he ran away when he saw their carriage approaching?
“Well, my dear, you have the Earl of Westerly’s blessing, so I should think that in a short while you could be mistress of thismagnificent villa. How wonderful it will be to spend our summers out here.”
Bridget blinked back her shock. Had they been sent here by the earl? Were any of their visitors actual paying guests?
“Oh, the first thing I shall do is remove these hideous blue shutters for something more modern like white sash windows. Not to mention that ghastlyfleur-de-lisrailing. It will have to go.”
“Excuse me?” Bridget could not stop the words from escaping her lips.
“In fact,” Adelia continued, ignoring Bridget altogether, “the entire house is rather too French for my liking. When I am the lady of the villa, I shall redo everything.”
A fire ignited in Bridget’s chest, but she forced herself to remain calm and said, “This is a French villa, built from Lutetian limestone by my French grandfather—the very same stone used to build much of Paris itself.”
Miss Eamont glared at Bridget as though she were an annoying buzzard that had flown into her line of sight. Then she turned to face the garden and said, “How lovely this garden is, Mama. I do so adore flowers.”
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Eamont said, turning to the garden, “you must ask Mr. Squires to give you a tour of the grounds tomorrow. I am sure he doesn’t realize that you are quite the botanist.”
“I adore flowers too, Mama!” Lydia Eamont said, and her sister turned to give her a scathing look.
“Perhaps, all of you would like a tour of the garden tomorrow.” Bridget swallowed her fury, wanting to be a polite hostess. “I too am quite the botanist, so there is much I can explain.”
The two Miss Eamonts looked to their mother in horror. Lady Eamont stiffened. “I’m sure we’d prefer for Mr. Squires to show us the garden,” she said, “he is the owner after all.”
“And I’m sure you will not want to come, Mama,” Adelia said. “You know how flowers make you sneeze. And dear Papa cannot tolerate grass.”
“Ey?” Lord Eamont seemed surprised to hear his name being spoken. He’d been distracted as if he had other priorities on his mind.
“Perhaps your sister and I will follow behind, if only as chaperones,” Lady Eamont said, making Lydia scowl. Then she turned back to Bridget and snapped, “Are you going to show us to our rooms, or are we to stand here all day?”
Bridget’s cheeks flushed, but she straightened her shoulders and beckoned Eliza and James, who’d just returned to their stations.
“Show Lord and Lady Eamont and the Miss Eamonts to their rooms, please, Eliza. Then take their servants to their quarters.”
“Of course, Miss,” Eliza said, a flash of distaste passing over her features as she looked at the party of four. Bridget couldn’t blame her. She’d thought it would be delightful to host the ton at Villa De Lacey, but that was before she realized they’d view her as nothing more than a servant and her home as something to criticize.
*
Once again, Bridgetsighed her relief when the guests left and disappeared into the villa behind Eliza. Who knew that life as an innkeeper could be so exhausting? She rubbed the back of her aching neck and wondered if turning Villa De Lacey into an inn had indeed been a good idea. Instead of welcoming gracious guests, it felt as if her home had been invaded.
Then again, Villa De Lacey no longer belonged to her, and perhaps the sooner she accepted that, the better. But, no, she decided, looking toward Lake Windermere. She couldn’t let it go. She’d do what she had to, put up with whomever she had to, in order to stay in her home.
“I see the Eamont clan left you feeling a little overworked.” Nate’svoice sounded behind Bridget, and she turned to face him.
“Coward,” she scolded playfully.
“You’re right. I was being a coward.”
“Adelia Eamont seems to think she is about to be betrothed to you—with your brother’s blessing. Is that true?”
“Good Lord, no. Lady Eamont has been trying to unload her daughters for years. Adelia is older by two minutes, and so her mama insists she must marry first. She made Lydia debut a year after his sister. Absurd woman.”
That didn’t exactly answer her question. “And how did you become entangled in their plans for marriage?”
“My pompous brother took it upon himself to try and force me into a marriage with Adelia Eamont. I refused, but it seems neither he, nor she, has given up.”
“Aah, soshe’sthe reason you were banished to this nether region of England. You poor soul.”
