A young boy ran up, his cheeks smudged with soot and his trousers appearing far too short for him. “Hold your ’orse for you, guv’nor?”
David chuckled as he secured the reins on the pole. Most street urchins would have addressed him as ‘sir’ or ‘mister,’ but he supposed in this part of Mayfair, all men driving phaetons would be aristocrats. He tossed the boy a coin. “Can you stay awhile?”
“Of course, guv’nor. All day if ye need me.”
David stepped down and walked around the back of the phaeton to help Rose down. Although she seemed game to use the steep step, he simply took her by the waist and lowered her to the pavement.
“You like doing that, don’t you?” she asked.
David offered his arm. “You’re as light as a feather,” he murmured. “But, yes, I do like doing it,” he added in a low voice. “Gives me a chance to hold onto you.”
Rose inhaled softly, her eyes rounding as she gazed at him.
The front door opened before they stepped onto the bridge that spanned the area to the entry. A green-painted wrought iron fence wrapped the top of the area, preventing someone from falling into it. A quick glance down showed it was swept clean, although it was evident coal deliveries were made there.
“Ah, you must be Thompkins?” Rose said when an older man appeared.
“Lady Rose, it’s good to see you again.” The butler stepped aside to allow them in.
“Have I made your acquaintance before,” she asked in surprise.
He nodded as he took her redingote and David’s hat. “His Grace brought you and your brother here when you were quite young. As I recall, he came to claim the rest of what he’d left in the study.”
Rose arched a brow. “I barely remember that,” she murmured.
“And you must be Mr. Bennett-Jones,” Thompkins said as he bowed. At David’s look of surprise, he added, “His Grace sent word that you would be touring the house.”
“That was very kind of him,” David remarked. “I take it you are part of a limited staff given no one lives here?”
Thompkins nodded. “There’s only the housekeeper—my wife, Mrs. Thompkins—the cook, and me for now, but I shall see to hiring a larger staff for when you wish to take up residence here.”
“Then you must do so very soon, for Mr. Bennett-Jones and I will be wed by mid-May,” Rose said. “Until that time, I intend to claim the mistress suite.”
David blinked, but didn’t argue. He rather liked that Rose seemed determined to marry quickly rather than opt for a longer betrothal. As for claiming the mistress suite... “Are you moving in today, my sweet?” he asked.
Rose grinned at hearing him call her by an endearment. “My lady’s maid has begun packing my clothes,” she replied. “I thought perhaps I would move in on the morrow.” She didn’t add that she would be moving into the townhouse even if they weren’t planning to wed. Her father had said he planned to evict her and her brother if they didn’t marry this Season, and since she had practically given up on a betrothal, she thought it best to move sooner rather than later.
“I shall contact the agency immediately, my lady,” Thompkins stated. “If you don’t require anything at this time...?”
“We’ll find our way around,” David said, giving the butler a sympathetic look. “Lead the way, my lady.”
“It’s not very large—”
“It’s four stories tall,” David murmured. “Eight chimneys.”
She gasped. “How do you know that?” she asked in surprise as they entered the grand hall.
“I counted them as we drove up,” he replied, “and the exterior is in excellent shape. The stucco is newly refinished, there’s fresh paint on the window boxes and on the door. The shutters are probably newly painted as well, but we weren’t out there long enough so I could examine them.”
Rose blinked and grinned as she watched him take in the series of marble busts mounted on caryatids that lined the hall in between the doors. Set against the opposite wall were the stairs to the first floor. There wasn’t a central round table but a half-round was set against the wall beneath the stairs, an empty vase its only decoration. The floors were done in large tiles of alternating black and white marble.
“We can play a very large game of chess in here,” he said with a grin.
Rose tittered as she led him into the blue-painted front salon. “This will be my room. A place for me to do my correspondence in the mornings.”
“Maybe host your friends?” David hinted, remembering how Adeline had adopted a similar room in Bostwick House. “Are you in agreement with the colors?” he asked, impressed by the plasterwork on the ceiling and along the crown mouldings. A simple gas-lit chandelier provided the room’s only overhead lighting.
“Do you not like them?” she asked, her brows furrowing as she studied the blues in the carpet and the reds in the upholstery.
