The Princess and the Peer(16)
Actually, now that he mentioned it, she could do with some time alone and a place to wash and relax and slip her stocking feet out of her stiff leather half boots.
“But what of your aunt?” she questioned. “Should I not remain here in order to make her acquaintance?”
“Oh, you’ll make her acquaintance. Never fear,” he said. “As for waiting, there’s no telling when she’ll arrive. It could be ten minutes; it could be two hours. Aunt Felicity is unpredictable at best, and I learned long ago not to bother making the attempt to foretell her actions.”
Emma sent him a troubled look. “If that is true, are you certain she will agree to aid me and take up residence here for the week?”
“I’m sure. Just leave it to me,” he said with an unconcerned shrug. “Although,” he added contemplatively, “it might be best if I discuss the plan with her first. The two of you can meet this evening at dinner.”
“Oh, but surely we should meet before then?”
“No,” he stated firmly. “This evening will be soon enough. Trust me.”
Trust him, she thought. She had already trusted him far too often today. Was she being foolish to put so much faith in a man she barely knew? Once again her instincts told her that she had nothing to fear in his company, and that he would keep her safe.
“Very well, my lord. As you wish.”
He grinned, his white teeth flashing in a way that sent her pulse thundering unsteadily again. She forced herself not to show any sign of the emotions careening inside her. Instead she simply watched as he rose and crossed to ring the bell.
“Right this way, miss,” an upstairs housemaid told Emma a few minutes later. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”
Casting a last glance toward Nick where he stood near one of the drawing room windows, sunlight coaxing forth tempting hints of red in his dark sable hair, she turned to follow the servant from the drawing room. It seemed her week of adventure was truly about to begin.
Her bedchamber, when she reached it, proved charmingly attractive, if a bit old-fashioned—the furnishings likely from the same era as the drawing room, and once more chosen by Nick’s late mother. Still, Emma couldn’t fault the other woman’s taste, approving of the cheerful yellow draperies, wide walnut tester bed, and wallpaper covered with tiny bluebirds soaring in midflight.
Having spent the past six years of her life attending school in a medieval Scottish castle that was dark and drafty in the autumn and freezing cold come winter, she was delighted with the warm, eminently comfortable accommodations. A wood fire crackled in the hearth, the chamber neat and clean with the scents of linen starch, lemon polish, and beeswax drifting on the air. Once Nick’s housekeeper had learned that her master would be entertaining guests, she must have ordered the room made up and thoroughly freshened. His servants might conduct themselves in far more casual a manner than she was accustomed, but they were clearly proficient in their duties.
And happy, Emma mused, as she caught the kindly smile of the maidservant as the girl crossed to pour fresh water into the washbasin and lay out a set of plump white towels.
I shall be happy here too, she thought. A week of refuge and exploration that is all mine to enjoy.
“Bell done brung up yer case a while ago, miss, and I took the liberty of unpacking yer dresses and hanging them in the wardrobe,” the servant said helpfully. “If there’s anything ye’d like pressed for this evening, ye’ve only to say.”
So the outspoken footman with the eye patch had been given instructions to carry her valise upstairs to this bedchamber, had he? Of all the high-handed arrogance, she thought, certain the order had been issued directly by Lord Lyndhurst.
Rather too sure of himself by half, isn’t he? she thought of her host. Assuming she would say yes to his plan before she had even been asked. It almost made her want to tell the maid to pack everything up again, just on principle. But she’d been over that particular issue before and her decision to take up residence was made.
“I believe I will freshen up first,” she said, “then have a bit of a lie down. I shall choose a gown later and ring when I am ready.”
“Very good, miss.” The girl bobbed a curtsy.
“A question before you go,” Emma said, stopping the servant as she turned to leave. “His lordship recently inherited, did he not? He lost his brother, I understand.”
An unmistakable sadness dimmed the girl’s bright smile. “Yes, miss. Lord Lyndhurst, that is the late Lord Lyndhurst, passed away most sudden-like. Terrible thing, it were, him coming down with the typhus. We were all in a right shock, we were. To think of a fine young man struck down in his prime. Don’t seem right nor fair, it don’t. But the sickness takes all kinds, I suppose, with no regard for age nor wealth nor kin.”