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Not all his family welcomed Vanessa.

The Barclays—one and all—possessed an abundance of pride and loathed the idea of their brother marrying for money. Vanessa was an interloper, even if she’d been neighbors with the Barclays at one time, and Gabriel had been Kingston’s closest chum. And lastly, Kingston might be their older brother and guardian, but Madeline was the one they looked to for leadership.

Vanessa couldn’t get a word in edgewise, and so she patiently waited for the din to subside. The arrival of the heavily-laden second coach saw to that.

The younger Barclays’ eyes grew enormous once more when the other conveyance, piled high with luggage, lumbered to a rocky stop, and five servants descended from the equipage. Her staff stretched and, with identical skeptical expressions, examined their temporary home.

Only they weren’t aware it was temporary.

No one was except two solemn-faced, bespectacled solicitors whose profession required them to keep the knowledge to themselves.

However, in less time than it took for Vanessa to note that unfortunate fact, her staff had composed their features into neutral expressions as any loyal servants worth their salt did.

“Where in the Hades do you suppose we’ll put them?” Gareth asked the disgust and apprehension he tried to hide causing his adolescent voice to crack.

“Gareth,” Madeline chided. “Language.”

Though she hid it well, she too fretted. Her gaze skittering between the servants patiently standing and awaiting orders and the house, gave her away. As did her tightly clasped hands.

Snorting, Gareth shook his head and kicked at a small stone.

“There are nine of them,” he grumbled. “And the servants’ quarters are meant for four. And need I remind you, Madeline, they’ve been unused for years? Cobwebs. Rodents. Peeling paper. Rotting floors? Leaky roof?”

Vanessa caught the horrified expression that whisked across Daisy’s face before the lady’s maid schooled her features into a mask of indifference. But not before she sent Leroy Gaines an I-told-you-so-look.

“That is true,” Rebecca put in, worry etching the corners of her pretty but thin face.

Room for four?

Truly?

Why hadn’t Kingston said anything?

Because—the truth rammed her with the force of a coal cart— he hadn’t intended for her or her servants to actually stay at Quail Hollow.

What had changed his mind?

He’d been insistent that she meet his family when they were in London.

This was most awkward.

A chagrined flush crept up Vanessa’s throat and heated her face to her hairline. She looked at her new husband, trying to keep the accusation from her gaze.

“I’m certain we can make temporary arrangements,” she said. “We may be a bit crowded, but only for a day or two until something can be worked out.”

Helmstead sounded more and more appealing with each passing minute.

“Yes, of course we can.” Madeline gave her sisters a don’t-you-dare-argue look. “I’ll move my things in with Rebecca, and Kingston and Vanessa can sleep in Mama and Papa’s chamber. The female servants can use Dorena’s chamber—”

“What?” Dorena huffed, blue sparks spewing from her eyes. “I have to share a chamber with you and Rebecca?”

“We are all making sacrifices, Dorena,” Madeline warned in a no-nonsense tone.

That left one bedchamber.

Vanessa opened her mouth to say she and Kingston wouldn’t be sharing a bedchamber, but before she could, Madeline said, “The male house servants can take the last room inside the house. There are lodgings in the stables for the drivers and stable hands, but I fear they’re in poor repair, as well.”

To their credit, Vanessa’s servants remained bland-faced.