“I’d rather not,” Lucy muttered.
Angelica felt much the same but knew it was too late to back out now. After all, they were here and if she didn’t make an effort, she’d only upset her mother. Not to mention, she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do if she did not marrysomebody. The last thing she wanted to be was a burden. Compared with that horrifying possibility, marriage seemed like a very acceptable outcome. And who knew? Perhaps Viscount Sterling would turn out to be the man of her dreams – a man with whom she could see herself falling hopelessly in love.
“And you are?”
Angelica stared at the haughty blonde who’d materialized before her for a good three seconds before recalling her manners and forcing a smile. “Lady Angelica Northbridge. And this is my friend, Miss Lucinda Harlow.”
“I am Lady Seraphina.” Her Haughtiness raised her chin just enough to stare down her nose at Angelica. “My father is the Duke of Guildenridge, which practically makes me royal.” She tittered –tittered– like some shrill canary. And then the edge of her mouth tilted into a mocking caricature of a smile. “Well, it was lovely to meet you.” She didn’t spare Lucy one glance. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other better in the coming days.” This was said with a hint of foreboding before she turned away.
“A duke’s daughter,” Lucy said with awe. “Why on earth would she ever consider marrying a viscount?”
Angelica snorted. “I suspect her winning personality and meekness must be to blame.”
“What an awful thing to say.” Lucy chuckled.
“Why? I didn’t insult her.”
“Yes you did.”
Angelica supposed Lucy did have a point, but she was prevented from commenting further since Rose approached at that moment and promptly began introducing her to the remaining three ladies. Matilda Stevens was the only child of a wealthy landowner, Clare St. James was an orphan whose guardian was a baron, and Anna Chesterfield’s father was untitled, though the second son of an earl. None said enough for Angelica to form much of an opinion on either of them.
She took a deep breath and shared a quick look of despair with her mother. For although she might have been rapidly approaching a state of spinsterhood, she never would have thought she deserved to be grouped with what appeared to be the least marriageable women on the market. It was harrowing, to be sure, and frankly quite sad. Worst of all was the prospect of having to prove she’d make the most suitable wife. Nothing appealed less.
All she wanted was to go home.
“Ah. I see you are all assembled,” a breezy feminine voice said. It belonged to an elegant woman of slim build with a lovely face and hair that shone like gold. “I am Mrs. Essex, housekeeper to Lord Sterling and this…”
Angelica didn’t hear anything else the woman said. She was too busy wondering how a young woman who looked as she did could possibly be a housekeeper to anyone.
“Angelica,” Rose hissed right next to her ear.
“What?”
“Shall we follow Mrs. Essex upstairs so she can show us to our rooms?”
“Oh. Um. Isn’t there a butler?”
Rose shook her head in dismay and gave Angelica’s hand a tug. The rest of the party had started climbing the stairs while she’d been woolgathering. “Mrs. Essex just introduced him. He’s the older gentleman over there issuing orders to the footmen. Clarkson is his name.”
Angelica cast a glance toward the spot her mother indicated and instantly found the man to whom she referred. Gray hair and a serious demeanor, she noted with some satisfaction. He fit his role so much better than Mrs. Essex did hers.
“Dinner will be served at precisely seven o’clock,” Mrs. Essex told Angelica once she’d shown her to her room. Apparently the mansion was large enough to allow each guest a room of her own so Angelica wouldn’t have to share with her mother.
Instead…
She turned and allowed her mouth to fall open. The room she’d been given was at least twice the size of the one she had at home. Furnished in pretty cream tones accented by soft shades of blue, it was, quite literally, perfect.
With a satisfied sigh she stepped farther into the room. Her trunk had been placed at the foot of the canopy bed, and a maid was already busy unpacking it. Angelica thanked the girl and went to peer out the window. Water streaked over the glass but she could still make out a series of walkways leading toward a pavilion. Strategically placed statues and benches offered further evidence of a well-planned garden, although it didn’t look terribly inviting in the rain.
“Good heavens. Your room is at least twice the size of mine.”
Angelica turned from the window, ignored the shiver blowing over her shoulders, and smiled at Lucy. “Really?” She rubbed her hands together and moved closer to the fireplace. “I would have imagined all the guestrooms to be the same size.”
“They used to be.” Mrs. Essex said. She’d somehow materialized directly behind Lucy, causing her to jump.
“Goodness,” Lucy gasped, her hand pressed to her breast. “I didn’t realize you were there.”
Mrs. Essex gave an indulgent smile. “Forgive me. It was not my intention to startle you.” She approached Angelica. “I believe your mother is freshening up, so I chose not to disturb her. But I thought it prudent to inform you that you can use this connecting door over here to access her room more directly. If you wish.”
