“There’s not plumbing in this house?”
“Not on the first floor, my lady.”
Cordelia blinked in surprise. “We came up the stairs. This is the second floor.”
Miss Vaughn shook her head. “In England, my lady, we call the main floor the ground floor, and the next floor the first floor, and so on.”
“Thank you for letting me know. I am sure there are many things you do differently in England than we do in America. And you’re welcome to bring any of them to my attention.”
“I will, my lady.”
Cordelia walked to the shabby chair and sat down. It was as if she had travelled back in time to a house that was more a castle than a home. And with none of the modern conveniences she’d come to expect. “Where does that door lead to?”
“Lord Farnham’s room, of course,” Miss Vaughn said with a little laugh. “There’s a dressing room between them. I’ve had the footmen place your trunks in the adjacent room to this one. There’s not enough space for them in your dressing room.”
“Ah,” Cordelia said, and summoned her best polite smile. “How clever of you. If you’ll see to my bath, I’ll rest until it is ready.”
Miss Vaughn gave her another smile and deep curtsy before leaving the room. Cordelia took off her gloves and pulled out the hat pins before taking off her hat. She set them both on a side table before opening the door to the shared dressing room. Like the rest of the house, the furniture was worn and out-of-date. But the room was spacious. She gulped when she saw copper bowls, which she assumed were chamber pots. She’d never had to use one before and hoped that she wouldn’t get anything on her clothing. And what of the smell?
Cordelia couldn’t hold in a shiver of disgust.
She opened the opposite door that led to Thomas’s room. Cordelia felt surprised that she was disappointed to find it empty. She’d somehow grown fond of her husband. He wasn’t playful and boisterous like Stuyvesant. But there was something endearing about the slow way a smile formed on his face and how he listened when she spoke—truly listened as if he wanted to know everything she was thinking. Thomas would never be as broad or as handsome as Stuyvesant, but his narrower frame was muscular and his pale features attractive.
Thomas’s room was just like hers: overlarge and sparsely furnished with shabby furniture. She also felt an identical chilly draft. She looked at the walls and could see no sign of electric lights or central heating. The entire abbey was out-of-date, inconvenient, and belonged in a museum.
Cordelia wondered where Thomas was. She needed to talk to him urgently. If they were going to be friendly partners, their first step together would be to modernize this mausoleum.
13
It took Miss Vaughn and the two giggling kitchen maids three trips to fill the hip bath to only one-third full. They placed it in front of the fireplace, which thankfully had a decent blaze. When Cordelia stepped into the basin, it was only lukewarm and didn’t cover her entire body. But even if she was shivering, she was glad to be clean. Miss Vaughn handed her a towel and then her chemise.
“You really are a princess,” she said admiringly. “Even your underthings are sewn with golden thread.”
Cordelia smiled and put her arms through her silk robe, then tied it around her waist. Miss Vaughn helped her into her corset and pulled the strings tight. She sat down on a stool while Miss Vaughn combed out her hair. She then twisted it around into a bun on the top of her head. The door opened and Thomas stood in the doorway, his tall figure framed by the light of a candle. He was dressed in a black tuxedo that made his shoulders look broad. A shiver crawled down her spine as she reminded herself that she didn’t want to find him handsome.
“I am sorry,” he said, turning around. “I did not realize that you were not yet dressed.”
“Please stay, Thomas,” Cordelia said, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. “Miss Vaughn, will you be so kind as to fetch my celestial-blue dress?”
Miss Vaughn dipped a quick curtsy and then left the dressing room through the door that led to Cordelia’s room. Cordelia stood up, conscious that she only wore a light robe. Thomas stayed, watching her with open admiration. But their bargain had been for her money, not her person.
Stuyvesant had admired her too. Yet he’d still left her all alone in her tower.
“I was hoping to speak to you about some renovations to Ashdown.”
Thomas’s eyes moved up from her gorgeous form to her face, his expression embarrassed. “Yes, Ashdown needs extensive renovations, and I was hoping that you would help me.”
“With what?”
“As you’ve no doubt noticed, the walls are bare. Anything of value has long since been sold. I was hoping you would help me replace the furnishings. Pick the colors of the paint and the carpets for the floors.”
Cordelia’s mother’s voice came into her head: “You have no taste.”
“Are you sure? I don’t have much experience with decorating.”
“I daresay you have more than I do, and I want you to be happy here,” Thomas said. “I want Ashdown Abbey to feel like your home.”
“Then I will need a proper bathing room.”
