Miss Hastings' Excellent London Adventure (Brazen Brides Book 4)(25)
Striving for sultry had not succeeded. He merely turned away. “Well, now, allow me to show you the dinner room.”
She latched onto his arm as they strode past the stairwell that was lighted from a huge glass dome on the house’s roof.
The dinner room was not large, no doubt owing to the necessary narrowness of town houses (unless one had a huge, landed property on Piccadilly, as did Nicholas Birmingham). The mahogany table here could not accommodate more than a dozen—unlike Sir Arthur's huge dining chamber at his country house, which could handily seat four-and-twenty. The large fireplace here centered the chamber, and because the room was not vast, she suspected dining here would be wonderfully cozy and warm. Especially on winter nights.
He came to stand beside her, setting his arm about her shoulder. “Now that I am a married man, we shall have to host dinner parties.”
She look up at him and smiled. “How fun.” In truth, she was terrified of planning and presiding over a dinner party. She was but twenty years old and green in the ways of the ton. But she had no intentions of letting Adam know of her insecurities. She would do everything in her power to be the best wife a man could have. She vowed to make herself capable in every way.
He turned to her. It was as if he were reading her thoughts. “Don’t be alarmed. I realize you know no one in London at present, save for my brothers and their wives. I promise you, that will change. With Ladies Fiona and Sophia guiding you, you’ll soon be the toast of the Capital.”
She doubted that. Even with Adam’s money and all the finery he bought for her she would never be as remarkable as either of her beautiful sisters-in-law.
Next, he led her up the last flight of stairs. “I hope you’ll be satisfied with your apartments.”
Her brows hiked. “More than one room?”
He smiled and nodded. “The previous owners, Lord and Lady Albuthnot, took the whole floor for their apartments—save for the chamber where you slept the other night. They had no children, and they hosted guests only at their country house.
Wideacres. She’d read in the society pages of Lord and Lady Albuthnot’s lavish country estate in Warwickshire.
“No wonder the house is so magnificent! The Albuthnots are famed as arbiters of good taste.” Then she paused. “That’s not to say the Birminghams aren’t also. Now that I’ve seen all three brothers’ homes, I know it would be impossible to surpass them in elegance—not that I hold myself up as an expert!”
A tender expression on his face, he paused on the stairway and looked down at her. “I saw your selections in clothing and jewels. You, my dear wife, are possessed of an unerring eye.”
She felt lighter than air. My dear wife. Even if his words weren’t heart-felt, the very notion of being his dear wife was enough to push her to the verge of swooning.
“Where are the servants’ chambers?”
“The top floor. It’s accessible by a narrower staircase off the scullery.”
There was something so intimate about having a man show her to her bedchamber.
Her heart started hammering as they strolled along the wooden corridor to her apartments. She stood silently as he opened the door, then she followed him into the fine rose-coloured room. He turned to her and drew her hands into his. “This suite of rooms belongs to the mistress of the house, and that is you, Mrs. Birmingham.”
As happy as it made her to be Mrs. Birmingham, it made her even happier to feel his hands tenderly clasping hers. Two days ago had been the most exciting day of her life (except for the sad news of her uncle and aunt’s deaths, of course). Today was the happiest day of her twenty years.
“I’m very grateful to you, Mr. . . . Adam. I pray you will never regret this day, that one day I will be able to repay you in some way.”
He smiled. “My repayment will be your happiness.”
"Then, sir, consider yourself repaid a hundredfold."
He kissed her hand and dropped it as his gaze circled the chamber. “Now let me show you your rooms.”
The first thing she saw was her banged-up portmanteau. It looked out of place in the perfection of this beautiful chamber. Perfection. It was a word she was beginning to associate with everything the Birminghams touched. Even though her experience in stately homes was limited to Sir Arthur's and to Fleur House, a stately home near Upper Barrington which belonged to a wealthy brewer, she knew that everything about the three Birmingham houses she’d seen was not only of the best quality and in pristine upkeep, but all three glorified residences housed only the finest in furnishings, carpets, art, silver, and porcelains. She had even spotted a Holbein at William and Sophia’s exquisite home. The lavish use of fine silks in draperies, wall coverings and upholstery impressed her as much as anything for she well knew the prohibitive cost of silk. Sir Arthur‘s and Fleur House both used lesser fabrics.