Like two cats, they tried to stare each other down, gripping the other’s hand as tightly as possible. Cordelia rocked back and forth on her feet, unable to look away. Unable to speak. She wanted to cry. To laugh. To scream. To do something. To say something to ease the growing tension in the room and in her heart. Her hands longed to touch them both. To comfort and soothe them. To receive comfort. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.
“Welcome to Ashdown Abbey,” Thomas said.
“It is certainly a beautiful old building,” Mrs. Stewart said in a whispery, sweet voice. “I have quite a fondness for antiquities, do I not, Lucy?”
“Yes-yes,” her friend stumbled on her words, her eyes on Cordelia, full of pleading. “I long to see it in the light of day.”
Her words pulled Cordelia out of her stupor. “And you will tomorrow.” She turned to the first footman. “Tim, please have Mrs. Norton prepare the guest rooms twenty-eight through thirty for our guests.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Thayne, if you would be so kind as to ask Cook to prepare some tea for my guests and have it sent to their rooms. Also, please send some men to fetch their trunks.”
“Very good, ma’am.”
Thomas and Stuyvesant still held each other’s hands in a death grip. She didn’t want either of them to be hurt, but somehow she knew that they all would be. Cordelia walked over and gently took Thomas’s arm and tucked her hand inside the bend of his elbow. He instantly let go of Stuyvesant’s hand. Thomas’s gentle touch strengthened her and sent shockwaves of adrenaline through her body.
“You’ve all come at the perfect time,” she said in a breathless voice that did not sound like her own. “We are having a large party joining us tomorrow for the weekend, and there will be a fancy-dress ball on Saturday. Stuyvesant, you’ve always enjoyed dressing up.”
“I have no costume.”
“I’m sure we can find something for you,” Thomas said.
They led the way farther into the house and her American friends followed them. Her grip on Thomas’s arm tightened. She hoped Thomas wouldn’t take them to meet his mother and Penelope yet. She wasn’t quite ready for that ordeal.
“It’ll be a masquerade,” Cordelia rattled on, desperate to fill the awkward silence. “Thomas’s aunt, the Duchess of Oxenbury is coming with her husband, the duke, and Lord and Lady Esher, Lord and Lady Rutledge, the Earl and Countess of Gresham, Baron and Baroness Whitby, the Marquess and Marchioness of Grimsby, Viscount Brinkley, Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins, and Mr. and Mrs. Bracken. We even have a prince coming—Queen Victoria’s grandson.”
“You English folk sure like your meaningless titles,” Stuyvesant said, shaking his head.
She felt Thomas’s arm stiffen underneath her touch. “Our country is built on tradition.”
“I can hardly wait to meet a real prince,” Lucy piped up.
Cordelia knew that her friend was trying to ease the awkward situation and was grateful to her. If only she could ease Cordelia’s racing mind and beating heart.
“America is built on hard work and industry,” Stuyvesant retorted. “Something I don’t think any English aristocrat could understand. You sit in your old castles collecting rents like your ancestor’s did.”
“It is actually an abbey.”
“Yes,” Cordelia cut in breathlessly. “Ashdown Abbey is a fascinating historic structure. I look forward to giving you all a tour of it tomorrow, and we can talk then, but it is getting late. Ah, Thayne, you are back. Would you please lead Mr. Bradley to room thirty and give him any assistance that he needs?”
“This way, Mr. Bradley,” Thayne said, pointing down the hall.
Stuyvesant gave her one more searing look before following him. Cordelia clutched Thomas’s arm tighter for support. This evening was both a dream and a nightmare.
“I had the rooms numbered for easiness, but sometimes it feels a bit like a hotel,” Cordelia said with a fake laugh. “Lucy, if you and Mrs. Stewart will come with me, I’ll take you to your rooms. Hopefully, the tea will have already arrived.”
She pulled her arm free from Thomas’s and linked it with Lucy’s. “I have completely redone your rooms, so feel free to admire anything and everything.”
Cordelia was still pretending in front of her friend because of her chaperone. Lucy must have realized it, for she squeezed Cordelia’s hand. “There is so much to admire.”
Rattling on about unimportant things, Cordelia managed to get both ladies into their correct room. The fires were lighted and the bed covers turned down. At least her staff’s war with her did not extend to her guests.
Mrs. Stewart stayed close to Lucy as they waited for their trunks to be brought up. There was no chance for a private word, so Cordelia excused herself.
Thomas was already in her bed when she arrived in the room.
Miss Vaughn was waiting in the dressing room. She helped Cordelia undress and put on her nightgown before leaving. Cordelia slipped under the covers.
