Page 6 of The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

Chapter Three

The change in the sound of the wheels, as they went from travelling over earth, to travelling over gravel, pulled Selina out of the half sleep and dreams she had drifted into. They were turning through an enormous set of gates, and into a long, tree lined drive, which led to the most imposing house that she had ever seen. Perched far above them on the hilltop, it seemed to gaze down on the landscape, dominating everything. The sunlight reflected from its many windows, making it glitter, and the old stone was painted gold by the light.

She sat up straighter, studying it, the last of the dream fading away – it had been a dream of love, again, and again, as had happened so often since the Chaterwood soiree, the dream lover had worn the face of the man she had seen, across the room. She still had no idea who he was, but he haunted her, in the most pleasurable of ways. More and more, she found herself hoping to see him again, to discover his identity, to, perhaps, speak or dance with him. He was, most definitely, far more intriguing than the Earl had ever been.

For now, thoughts of him fled her mind, replaced by awe at the sight of the house before them. She still expected the house party to be dull, but perhaps, in a house that size, it might be possible to escape the Earl’s attention, most of the time. The park around them was enormous, with cultured lawns, gardens, and copses of trees for as far as she could see. It made her want to explore.

She had brought her riding habit, although her mother thought her foolish – but she held the hope that she might have the chance to ride – and seeing the grounds of Fortescue Grange made her desire that, even more. Riding off over the horizon, away from the Earl, and from her mother’s enthusiasm for him, had a great appeal. Her father had called her to his study, not long before they had set off, and spoken to her sternly, threatening to arrange her marriage to the Earl against her will, unless she moved the match forward herself, or, unlikely case, received an offer from a gentleman of even higher standing.

If she had done neither by Twelfth Night, he would act. The conversation had terrified her, but had also made her angry, although she had not shown that – she would, she was determined, find a way to marry by her own choice – but how could she find a suitable man in the few short weeks granted her? The house party now seemed a possible opportunity, as much as a trap.

Soon, they were descending from the carriage, and were swept inside in a flurry of footmen who gathered their trunks, and sent their carriage off to the stables. The entry hall was large – in scale with the size of the house – floored in patterned marble and two stories high, with a huge staircase and balconies around the upper storey extending from it.

Selina tried not to gape at the size of it.

“Lord and Lady Delmont, Lady Selina, your rooms have been prepared – please come this way – your luggage will be delivered to your rooms. His Grace invites you to freshen yourselves after your journey, then join him in the main parlour. There will be a footman waiting in the corridor to show you to the parlour when you are ready.”

The Butler bowed as he spoke, waving them on, and a footman stepped forward to lead them up that remarkable staircase, and then another. They trailed after him, followed by Lisbet, and Canning, her father’s valet, and, after going up yet more stairs, and along a winding corridor, arrived at a most imposing looking door. The footman opened it, and ushered them in.

“This is your private parlour, my Lord and Ladies. Through the door to the left, you will find a master chamber, dressing rooms and the like, and through the door to the right you will find another set of chambers, for Lady Selina. Each has its own door to the corridor, as well. There are small rooms also, suitable for your valet and maid – as you have only one maid with you, the house will provide another, to serve whichever of the ladies you wish. There is a footman in the corridor at all times – if you require anything, please ask, and he will arrange it.”

He bowed, then departed the room, leaving them standing there, all looking rather overwhelmed. Moments later, there was a tap on the door, and their luggage was carried in. Lisbet and Canning set about arranging its disposition, and Selina and her parents made their way forward to settle into the elegant suite of chairs which nestled around the fireplace.

A pleasantly warm fire blazed in the grate, heating the room, and rapidly driving off the chill of travel. Selina wondered what the bedrooms would be like – for the parlour in which they sat was far bigger than their main parlour at home – and they certainly did not suffer from a lack of space! The footmen who had brought the trunks departed, and quiet settled around them. Selina found herself drifting towards sleep again. She stood, not wishing to actually sleep.

“I believe that I will go to see what the room I have been given is like.”

“Yes, do so, Selina, and make sure that Lisbet dresses you in your prettiest afternoon gown, so that you look your best when we greet His Grace. Perhaps the Earl will have already arrived…”

Selina sighed and nodded.

“Yes Mother.”

She went through the door on the right, discovering herself in a short corridor, with servants’ rooms to each side, then through another door, into a very pretty bedroom, with an enormous bed. The window looked out over the countryside, emphasizing again just how large the grounds were.

There was a door to her right, which she assumed from its position went into the corridor and, on the other side of the room, another door led into a large dressing room, which was where she discovered Lisbet, who was hanging all of her gowns on the hooks provided, and placing her other items on shelves and in the drawers of a large oaken storage chest. To one side, a huge copper bath sat, awaiting her use, and beyond it, mostly hidden by elegant painted screens, was a close stool.

It was, she thought, the height of luxury and elegance. How many guest suites like this did this house contain? How many people might be attending this house party?

~~~~~

As the afternoon wore on, and his parlour filled with more and more guests, Alex wished himself elsewhere, thoughts filling his mind of the warm Italian sun, of pleasant afternoons indulging himself – with wine, and food, and those fiery Italian beauties that Warrington had seemed so curious about. After seven years away, the English winter seemed far colder than he remembered, that cold barely reduced by the heat of the fire which blazed in the fireplace.

He greeted each new arrival appropriately, watching, with cynical amusement, as the mothers pushed their eligible daughters forward, and Lady Phyllida watched them all with barely concealed hostility. No matter what she thought, she did not own him, and her jealousy grated on him, reinforcing his intent to avoid the marriage, at whatever cost. Without the contract hanging over his head as a threat, he might, he conceded, even have enjoyed this house party – for many of those present were tolerable company. But, as it was, his impending fate of forced marriage soured everything.

He allowed himself to appreciate the physical beauty of the gathered young women – many, he had to admit, might be pleasant to have in his bed – but such pleasure would sour rapidly if they were in all other ways uninteresting and demanding.

The door opened again, and Hallam announced the new arrivals.

“The Marquess and Marchioness of Delmont, and their daughter, Lady Selina Brancourt.”

More people that Alex had never met. They came towards him, through the clusters of people, and, for a moment, it was as if time slowed, and the sound of conversation faded away. Lady Selina was, without question, a beauty. Of medium height, with a deliciously curved figure that would tempt a saint, rich golden hair and bright green eyes, she took his breath away. This was a woman he wished to know more of. It was, almost certainly, foolish of him to hold any hope that her character might be as interesting as her physical person, yet that hope rose up within him.

She met his eyes, and her face registered shock, for a second, before she schooled herself to a calm smile, but a flush rose to her cheeks as she came forward. What, he wondered, had that expression meant? His mother stepped past him, to take Lady Delmont’s hands.

“My dear Lady Delmont! It has been so long since I have seen you! And you are looking well, Lord Delmont. But… can this be Lady Selina? My, you have grown into a beauty, my girl! But do come and meet my son.” She led them to him, and performed the introductions.

“My son, the Duke of Southolton. May I present Lord and Lady Delmont, and their daughter, Lady Selina Brancourt.”