Miss Hastings' Excellent London Adventure (Brazen Brides Book 4)(21)

 

And if all these beautiful rooms and all their nearly priceless contents weren't enough to dazzle, the elegant Lady Fiona mesmerized Emma with her melodious voice, fair beauty, and impeccable dress. Emma was compelled to stare at her beautiful hostess. Her flawless face was surrounded by artfully arranged hair of pale blond, and her dress of cerulean blue was surely the most handsome dress Emma had ever beheld. Not only did it fit to perfection, the hand that had sewn the thin muslin gown was also perfect.

 

Emma found herself wondering if such innate good taste came naturally to those from aristocratic families, or had it come after the lady wed one of the richest men in the kingdom. Adam had told her that his money could make Emma something quite above the ordinary (she most certainly knew herself to be ordinary), but she would never be able to compare favorably with the beauty of Lady Fiona.

 

When they went back to the home's massive central hall, Emma finally got the opportunity to tilt her head and observe the celestial ceiling.

 

"Nick brought in an Italian to paint this ceiling," Lady Fiona said.

 

Emma wondered how the artist had managed to paint such a magnificent scene above his head. Had he lain down? Nymphs and seraphs lazed by a vivid waterfall which sprang from a verdant hill.

 

The two women then mounted a terrazzo staircase that was wide enough for five to walk abreast. She wondered, too, if its banister was constructed of real gold. The first chamber they came to on the next floor was what Lady Fiona called the Blue Salon. Pale blue silk damask covered the walls, and a thinner silk of the same shade draped the windows, while the furnishings were upholstered in the same blue, only in a heavy silk brocade. All furniture was gilded French.

 

"This is lovely," Emma said. It was truly more lovely than any room she had ever seen.

 

"We spend a great deal of time here, and as you can see, there's room for many people. I will be so happy for you to marry Adam and come play whist with us here. You do play?"

 

Emma nodded. "I can play, but I will need to gain more experience before I could be truly competitive."

 

Lady Fiona took Emma's hand, grinning. "Now I must show you our most famous chamber." She led Emma down the corridor lighted by gilded wall sconces and came to a stop in front of a closed door. "This is also the smallest chamber." She opened the door and stood back, beckoning Emma to enter.

 

A lone candle rested on a slender wall shelf to illuminate a wooden box on the floor. A large white bowl was centered in it.

 

"This is really the most clever invention," Lady Fiona said. "There's no need for servants here. Fresh water is piped into the bowl, and afterward . . . it's swept away and refilled with clean water."

 

Emma stared at the contraption for a moment. "A pity it's not a bit higher. It would be awfully difficult to wash one's face in that bowl without contriving to get down on the floor."

 

Lady Fiona burst into laughter.

 

Oh, dear, what had Emma said wrong?

 

"Forgive me for laughing," the lady said, though she made no effort to wipe the smile from her face. "It's just that the notion of one washing one's face in there is funny—though it shouldn't be."

 

"Pray, my lady, why is it funny? Why should it not be funny? I do not understand."

 

"I'm sorry. I did not properly explain our water closet." Lady Fiona's ivory cheeks coloured. "One actually sits over the bowl . . ."

 

All of a sudden, Emma understood. Then she began to laugh at the notion of one washing one's face there. All the while, she nodded. "I do understand. It is a frightfully clever contraption. So you call this a water closet?"

 

The lady nodded.

 

"So it's actually a . . . waste eliminator."

 

"Indeed." Lady Fiona took her hand again. "Permit me to show you our bedchambers. Only family members can see these."

 

Emma thought each of their set of chambers resembled their owners. Nick's royal blue rooms were masculine, solid, and tasteful. Just like him. And Lady Fiona's ivory chambers exuded her elegance and femininity.

 

Lady Fiona lingered in her chamber for moment. "Please don't be offended, my dear Emma, but I thought perhaps you might like to wear some of my dresses until yours arrive. I'm sure your lovely muslin dress was perfect for Upper . . .?"

 

"Barrington."

 

"But it's not quite smart enough for London. I would, of course, have my maid cut them down for you, since you're smaller than me."

 

"I couldn't ruin your dresses."

 

"These would be last year's. I was going to give them away, anyway."