She tried to add what warmth she could in her smile, in her comments, but she was more concerned with the stiffness in the arm she held, an iron control she suspected was hard-won.
When they were done, the staff still stood at attention, as if expecting a speech from Montgomery. The man of an hour ago could have done it, but she didn’t know if this man could push back the pain long enough to make the effort.
Montgomery surprised her, however, by striding to the windows, then turning and facing the group.
“Thank you for your welcome for me and my wife,” he said, glancing at her.
She smiled in response, the perfect expression for such a situation. Thankfully, she’d been privy to many of Aunt Lilly’s lectures on the decorum expected of the daughters of an earl. With any luck, the lessons would translate well to being the wife of a lord.
“I look forward to our continued cooperation in the months ahead,” he said.
The staff smiled and nodded, but she saw more than a few confused glances. Why had Montgomery said months and not years? Had he decided to return to America after all? She pushed back the thought, keeping her smile firmly moored in place as he strode ahead of her, Mr. Kerr at his side.
“Shall I see you to the family quarters, Lady Fairfax?” the housekeeper asked.
She slowed, allowing her pace to match that of the older woman. It was just as well, she’d lost sight of Montgomery.
Mrs. Brody was older, with the confidence of someone who knows she does her job well. Her hair was closer to silver than white, arranged in a coronet at the top of her head. An almost militaristic arrangement, as if she cowed any stray tendrils into obeying. Her face bore a few faint lines, especially around the corners of her eyes and mouth, giving her the impression that the woman smiled more than the role required.
“If you would, please, Mrs. Brody.”
“You’ve the voice of Scotland,” the housekeeper said in surprise.
She nodded. “My home was not far from here,” she said. “Lollybroch.”
The expression on the housekeeper’s face changed from polite interest to genuine delight. “I know the village well,” she said. “We’ve hired several girls from there over the years.”
For a few moments, they discussed people each might know. Veronica didn’t explain her father’s studious habits, or the fact her mother had followed his lead. As a family, they hadn’t socialized, but she did add she hadn’t been home in more than two years.
“Once a Scot, always a Scot,” Mrs. Brody said, reaching over and patting her arm in a gesture that would have garnered a remonstrance from Aunt Lilly. In Scotland, however, the lines between servant and master were often blurred.
“Your husband, though, he’s from America.”
She nodded. “He is. Virginia.”
“We’ve had a number of ours gone to America,” Mrs. Brody said. “It’s a sight for one to come back.”
She wasn’t certain Montgomery was here to stay, another comment she didn’t make to the housekeeper.
“Shall I tell you a little about the house, then?”
What she really wanted to know was why it had such an effect on Montgomery, but she nodded. Otherwise, the housekeeper would no doubt complain to the majordomo, and the tale would slowly filter down to all the staff that the mistress had no interest in the house itself.
The corridor in which they traveled was filled with portraits, all done in the same style. A three-quarters pose, painted in front of rows of bookshelves, the subject staring out at the River Tairn.
“A tradition,” Mrs. Brody said, noticing her glance. “Each of the lords has had his portrait painted in the Grand Library.”
The men arrayed in the gallery did not bear much resemblance to Montgomery. No distinct familial traits were revealed in each successive portrait. No large nose or widely placed eyes, or ears that stuck out too much. No one had thedistinctive blue eyes Montgomery possessed. Nor were any of the prior lords as handsome as her husband.
They mounted a set of stairs nowhere near as ornamental or magnificent as the oval staircase. Still, the banister was polished mahogany, and the balusters were ornately carved and dusted with gilt.
At the second-floor landing, she halted.
She’d not expected as much rich detail in the family suite as she saw. The emerald carpets were a perfect backdrop for the brass and crystal chandeliers. The walls were covered in a pale green patterned damask, while white vases and urns were placed throughout the hallway and on two long mahogany tables. Someone had filled the vases with spring flowers. The effect was not only welcoming but warm.
“We have the Best Bedroom here,” Mrs. Brody was saying. “And the dressing room that goes with it. Then there’s the Lady’s Private Room next to that, and the Lady’s Bedroom.”
Mrs. Brody walked down the hall, gesturing with her hand toward the end of the hall. “That staircase leads to the nursery wing,” she said. “Shall we go there first?”
