Rosalie directed one of the plump, pretty maids to bring a tea tray to them, and led Mira to a small room while pointing out the winged sphinxes and griffins which grinned and scowled down at them from the ceiling moldings.
"This is all very lovely," Mira said, following Rosalie into a beautiful room filled with delicate stucco-work and rose-colored marble. Soft brocaded chairs were set before a pilastered fireplace, while gold-framed engravings adorned the walls. Rosalie beamed at the compliment.
"Thank you. Shortly after we were married the house was designed by an acquaintance of ours, the Duke of Stafford."
"Alec F-Falkner?" Mira managed to stammer, suddenly feeling trapped by the house that had seemed so charming just a minute ago.
"You've heard of him?" Rosalie inquired, walking to the window and straightening the drapery sash.
"Yes…" Mira said faintly. "Do you often… that is, is he a close acquaintance of yours?"
"Not really," Rosalie replied, her blue eyes becoming thoughtful, her forehead furrowing slightly as she pondered the question. "I suppose we should be closer… after all, not only did he design this house, but we are on good terms with the Falkner family in general. On the few occasions that I've met Lord Falkner, I'vefound him to be pleasant and polite, and Rand likes him well enough, but… he is a rather unsettling man. I don't quite know how to explain it, since he is always very courteous, but still…" She frowned quickly and then dropped the subject, throwing Mira a pleased smile. "Oh well, it's not likely that you'll meet him here."
Mira nodded uncertainly. "My lady—"
"I would prefer it if you called me by my first name."
"Rosalie, then. I would like to thank you for the invitation to stay here with you. I am grateful for it, and I would like to accept your hospitality for a short while. But I am afraid that I will not be able to stay for long."
"Mireille, don't even think of leaving yet," Rosalie began in a small rush, then smiled and continued more calmly. "You will discover in a few weeks that as winter approaches, half of the extended Berkeley family moves in with us. As you see, it is a very big house, and the heating is excellent—so a large number of friends and relatives come to visit during the months of harshest weather. They provide interesting company, if not always the most restful, and I can promise you a most entertaining stay with us. You will not inconvenience anyone a bit, since one guest more or less will make little difference… and I want you to stay here. You once extended your hand to me when I was ill and needed friendship—don't deprive me of the opportunity to repay your kindness."
"I don't consider," Mira said slowly, her dark brown eyes downcast, "—that you owe me anything. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget what happened in France. I… I betrayed you—"
"Not consciously. Not willingly," Rosalie insisted, and then bit her lip as she cast a perturbed glance at the door. "Let's talk about this later when you have rested and I am not pressed for time. For now I amsimply glad that you're here. Here is Mary with the tea—I'll be back soon." With a rustle of silk skirts Rosalie left, the soft scent of her perfume lingering in the air.
Mira sat down in a brocaded chair and picked up a cup of tea, her eyes lingering on the well-tended landscaping visible through the spotless windows. Though the sunlight would eventually fade the rich colors of the carpet and furniture, Rosalie insisted on letting the sun into every room she frequented. It was a habit of hers that Mira remembered from their days in the chateau in France. Most people preferred the restful dimness of heavily draped windows, yet Rosalie was not one who would allow her tastes to be dictated by others.
So Alec had designed Berkeley Hall, Mira mused, intensely curious to see the rest of it. Knowing him, she was not surprised at the touches of whimsy that graced the little that she had seen of the house… like the griffins in the main hall, and the concealed closets in this room, decorated with Chinese birds, and the bits of mirror glass lining the edges of the windows. She smiled slightly at the irony of the situation. In trying to escape him, she had managed to find refuge in a place that he had created.
She knew exactly why Alec made Rosalie uneasy, even if Rosalie herself could not explain it. Rosalie was used to straightforward men like Rand Berkeley, not ones who were adept at saying one thing while meaning another. Alec would be too much a man of extremes to make Rosalie feel at ease in his company… he was too handsome, too unpredictable, too perceptive. Any woman who loved him would be an absolute idiot, Mira thought. As she berated herself silently, a tear rolled down her cheek and dropped into her tea, and as another followed, she set the cup down and hunted for a handkerchief. "No more tears allowed after today," a voice camefrom the door, and Mira looked up to see Rosalie's eyes warm with sympathy.