He took a deep breath and gazed out at the horizon. “As it turns out, not so poor after all.”
A warmth flowed through Bridget, and she smiled. She liked that Nate was starting to appreciate the Lake District and all it had to offer.
“You may have temporarily escaped Adelia Eamont, but she expects you to take her for a tour of the garden tomorrow. And I think her sister is a little jealous and might want her own tour, too.”
“Surely, you’re far better equipped to give guests a tour of the garden.”
“I am, but it seems that they don’t want me. They want you.”
Nate groaned. “I shall have to spend the next month in hiding.”
“Oh, it won’t be all that bad. If I can be gracious to our guests, then so can you.” She smiled at the pained look on his face. At least she didn’t have to worry about Adelia Eamont becoming the lady of the house at Villa De Lacey.
Chapter Eight
Dinner was arather elaborate affair. Aunt Marianne had done an excellent job with the menu, ordering Cook to deliver dishes of soup, carved meat, roasted chicken, and fish pies. Several silver-tiered trays held an array of vegetable dishes, accompanied by bowls of puddings and fruit. It all looked quite delicious. The guests arrived and took their seats with murmurs of approval. Bridget was relieved to see that Madam Bouffant had taken her advice and worn the green shawl, which she had pinned together using her floral, emerald and diamond brooch. It did a decent job of covering the actress’s cleavage, and Bridget hoped it was enough to fool the other guests into thinking she was a lady—albeit an eccentric one—from France. After all, a foreigner could get away with oddities in her dress and mannerisms that an English lady could not.
Bridget smiled at Madam Bouffant and nodded her thanks but froze when she caught Lady Eamont staring at the actress. Lady Eamont twisted the large ring on her finger and narrowed her eyes as if she sensed something suspicious about Madam Bouffant. Bridget’s stomach knotted as she took her seat at the table next to her aunt.Why had she thought she could fool ladies of the ton?
James stepped forward and began to pour wine and port for each of the guests.
“This is a splendid house, Mr. Squires,” Lady Darby said, and Bridget was relieved to see Lady Eamont turn her attention away from Madam Bouffant. “I must say I am quite pleased with the view frommy suite. The lake—what’s it called—”
“Lake Windermere,” Nate said.
“I concur. It is magnificent.” Lord Dodsworth, having finished his soup, dished some asparagus onto his plate, already heaped with carved meat and potatoes. “Exactly as Mr. Wordsworth describes in his guide.”
“I find it reminiscent of Montreux in Switzerland. Sir Allen, may he rest in peace, and I holidayed there shortly after our marriage.”
Nate lifted his glass of wine in a mock toast. “To Windermere. England’s Lake Geneva,” he said.
The guests raised their glasses. “To Windermere,” they parroted.
“And to the magnificent Villa De Lacey. I hope you all enjoy your stay here.”
The smiling guests sipped their wine, and Bridget’s heart almost exploded with pride. Until reality came knocking.
“Your brother did well taking this property off the original owner. It’s shameful that he could not pay his debts. But to gamble his home? Imagine being so negligent with money that you lose a treasure like this one,” Lady Darby said.
Bridget suddenly found that she could not swallow the sip of port she’d just taken. The lump in her throat was too large.Has Lady Darby no shame? How dare she continue to insult Papa!
She finally managed to swallow and was about to say something in her father’s defense when Lady Eamont chimed into the conversation. “I couldn’t agree more, Lady Darby. And how very charitable of Mr. Squires to have taken on De Lacey’s dependents—not to mention allow them to dine with us. Most unusual.” She turned to Nate, her soup spoon poised in midair. “I can’t imagine what a burden it must be to a young man like yourself. Don’t they have any family to provide for them?”
Bridget’s blood bubbled hot in her veins. The woman had the gall to continue to talk about them as if they were not present in the room.She opened her mouth to speak, though so many responses hurtled through her mind she wasn’t sure where to start.
“Yes, in fact, we do, Lady Eamont.” Aunt Marianne put down her spoon. “I have another brother who lives in New York. He sailed there two-and-twenty years ago before Bridget was born. But he is in India now. We will be going to America when he returns in approximately six months.”
Bridget turned in surprise to look at her aunt. Everything she had said was a complete fabrication.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me of this plan—” Nate began but stopped when Bridget gave him a quelling look.
“Well, that must be a relief for you, Mr. Squires!” Lady Darby said.
“I agree,” Lady Eamont concurred. “It’s bad enough being a poor relation but having to depend on a stranger for charity is simply appalling.”
“Charity has nothing to do with it,” Nate said. “I couldn’t even begin to manage this house without the help of Miss De Lacey and her aunt, so I can assure you that I will do my utmost to persuade them to stay here. And as for them dining with us, they do so because this is, and always has been, their home. There is nothing unorthodox about it.”
“Don’t be so modest, Mr. Squires. You’ve taken on both the man’s aged sister and his daughter. Of course, it’s an act of charity to take on another man’s responsibilities,” Lady Eamont said.
