“I expect we’ll see Aunt Frances, too,” Charles said. “She spends more time at Shewsbury Park than at home with Uncle Ralph.”
“No decent foxhunting in Kent. Aunt Frances was brought up to it. It’s in her blood.”
“Nellie tells me she won’t ride to hounds.”
Jason turned to him. “Really, why not?”
“Nellie’s a fine horsewoman. But she’s against the sport.”
“Against it, is she?” Jason chuckled. “Wait until she meets Aunt Frances.”
“That’s what I fear.”
Their strident aunt would attempt to change Nellie’s mind, but, remembering the determination in Nellie’s eyes when she expressed her strong feelings on the subject, he suspected his aunt might have met her match.
Chapter Ten
The horizon wasa mass of gold-rimmed clouds as their coach reached the top of a hill. Along with her parents, Nellie glimpsed the Shewsbury estate for the first time, a patchwork of green fields stitched together by dark hedges and trees lending shelter and shade to the sheep. She could just make out the ruins of the old castle with its crumbling tower.
They traveled the road bordered by flowering hawthorn hedges. Ewes and spring lambs roamed the daisy-strewn meadows. The gatekeeper saluted as their coach entered the gates with Shewsbury Park emblazoned on them. He then waved on the carriage carrying Lilly, Nellie’s mother’s maid, Iris, and Burton, her father’s valet.
In the park, she breathed in the pleasant smell of freshly scythed grass. From beyond a stone wall came the heady scent of bluebells and daffodils clustered around the trunks of majestic chestnuts and oaks. With a shiver of anticipation, she put a gloved hand to her mouth when they crossed a bridge and approached the mansion. It was less than a hundred years old, yet there was an aura of antiquity, emphasized by ancient stone terraces and dark yews planted before the first stone of this house was laid.
The coach pulled up on the raked gravel in front of the south-facing exterior of the house. A pair of tall, fair-haired footman appeared. Assisted out of the coach, Nellie paused in appreciation of the facade, the Grecian pediment and towering Doric columns.
At the door, the butler informed them that the duke was not home. “His Grace left his apologies,” he said. “He has been called away to see to a matter concerning one of his tenant farmers.” A footman in livery led them through the marble hall. “The duchess has been told you have arrived. At present, she is visiting the Dower house.”
Dismayed, Nellie wondered why the duchess was not here to welcome them. She followed her parents up the curved staircase where enormous, gilt-framed paintings lined the walls. She would have liked to inspect them but hastened after the footman and her parents. A maid showed her into the bedchamber next door to her parents.
Nellie removed her hat and peeled off her gloves. She was tidying her hair when her trunk was brought in, and shortly afterward, Lilly entered with Peter on his leash. The maid released the dog, and Peter rushed over, tail wagging, to jump up at Nellie.
“Shall I unpack for you, my lady?” Lilly asked.
“No. Only my blue sarsnet with the beige spencer.” Nellie gathered up her dog. “My goodness, Peter,” she said as he licked her face. “Has it been so long since you last saw me?” Her mother had refused to allow the dog to travel with them in the coach.
As her maid busied herself, Nellie kneeled on the window seat and gazed out. Below her, gardeners slipped discreetly amongst the formal gardens, and beyond the garden wall, a wide meadow carpeted with a host of daffodils sloped down to a lake. She clutched the windowsill. This would soon be her home. Unable to contain her excitement, she turned to her maid. “Take out my Italian straw, Lilly. I’ll go for a walk. Leave the rest of the unpacking. Go down to the servants’ hall and have your tea. I shan’t need you again until five o’clock.”
“Very well, my lady.”
“Introduce yourself to the servants,” Nellie said with a smile.
Lilly’s blue eyes twinkled. “Oh, my lady. The footmen are probably so uppity they won’t even speak to me.”
“Once you come here to live, that will change. A duchess’s personal maid demands respect. Don’t take any nonsense.”
“I met a gentleman coming up the servants’ stairs. He had such a nice smile. He fussed over Peter. Said he’s the duke’s valet. From County Cork. Been with His Grace for several years, but he misses Ireland.”
“All that in passing?” A stab of warning gave Nellie pause. Her mother had questioned the wisdom of keeping Lilly on.
“You will require a more experienced lady’s maid. Lilly is a young girl from the country. She will either leave or take liberties.”
“We will learn together,” she’d replied.
Mama had sighed. “Lilly is likely to do something inappropriate and embarrass you. You never listen to advice, Nellie. I believe you will come to regret it.”
Outside, the breeze was fresh on Nellie’s face as she led Peter along the path. It was a stately walk as he frequently stopped to sniff the tangy smells of plants. The gardens were impeccable, unlike Dountry Park, where her father’s strict economies had been evident before the ball, with the hedges often in need of trimming and weeds left to multiply in the garden beds. Charles’s visit brought great change. More staff hired, and the grounds and the house spruced up. She was gratified that her father now appeared less harassed.
Nellie entered a gate in the stone wall and emerged onto the drive leading to the stables. She was heading in that direction when the thud of hoofbeats came from somewhere behind her. She picked Peter up and swung around just as the horseman came into view, thundering down the drive, scattering gravel.
