13

Jeremy thought Emmeline liked the library best, and he could not blame her, for it was certainly the most relaxing of the rooms they had shown her, with its muted golds and greens and mellowed oak bookcases. He watched her surreptitiously as she moved through the room, admiring its contents.

Not for the first time her words from this morning drifted through his head. Is that why you did not sleep in the same bed as me last night? They caused him a pang now, as they had then, along with a strong impulse to kick himself.

For the first time in his life, he was striving to be a considerate husband. The devil of it was that the more he tried, the less he seemed to succeed. He had considered leaving her alone last night, a supreme sacrifice on his behalf. He had congratulated himself on his thoughtfulness, even as he puzzled over the strange prompting to put her feelings first.

Far from being grateful, he had a lurking suspicion that Emmeline had viewed his self-restraint as indifference or even worse, neglect. What he should have done, he realized now, was sleep beside her without attempting further congress.

Likely, she had been ill at ease and nervous to sleep by herself in strange surroundings. It had not occurred to him, in truth, because he was used to being selfish in his dealings with women. The realization was not a comfortable one.

He looked up to find Teddy was showing her the false bookcase which hid the door to a concealed stone stairway. “The servants use it mostly,” his son was explaining. “And this is Papa’s desk, where he keeps the ledgers for his stables and the estate.”

Emmie duly admired the huge oak desk, then the painting hanging above it caught her eye.

“My father commissioned that portrait,” he said, crossing the room to join them. “On the occasion of my twenty-first birthday.”

“The likeness is very good,” she murmured. “Did your father also request you were painted on horseback?”

“Yes. My equestrianism was one thing about me that my father truly admired.”

“Papa still has that horse. His name is Cadmus,” Teddy said. “Did you go and see him when we got home last night, Papa? That is Papa’s custom.”

“Yes,” he admitted, his eyes still on Emmeline. “Briefly.” He wondered what she was thinking as she gazed up at the portrait.

“Twenty-one…” Emmeline said quietly, and suddenly he knew what she was thinking. She was thinking that she knew him at that age. He hissed out a breath as he remembered her words that morning. They had been strangely painful. I would consider it a great favor if you no longer alluded to the Hawfords’ ball.

Their eyes met and she turned hastily about, halting before a sixteenth-century Venetian rendition of Venus reclining naked on a red velvet sofa, while next to her a fully clothed musician played the harp for her entertainment.

Noticing her startled expression, Teddy said with faint disapproval, “There’s lots of Venuses here at Vance. Papa collects them.”

Jeremy cleared his throat. “There is an antechamber through there,” he said, indicating an archway which led through to a room currently used as an overspill area. “I thought we could dedicate it to a collection of novels.”

Emmeline’s face lit up. “Novels? Really?”

He nodded, glancing around his impressive library. “The books in here are worthy tomes and the result of many years of collecting. I’ve scarcely read any of them though, and I suspect the same was true of my father. He just liked buying rare books and showing them off.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, when my father bought his London house, he purchased a good many books all tooled in red leather to display in his new library. I don’t think the pages were even cut. They were all sold with the house and doubtless sit in other gentlemen’s libraries now.”

The three of them moved into the antechamber and he could see she was impressed by the space available. “I don’t actually own that many novels,” she said apologetically. “We used to borrow them mostly from the lending library.”

“I ordered you some when I was in London,” he said offhandedly.

“Did you?” She flushed, this time he hoped with pleasure.

“I wanted to buy you a wedding gift you would appreciate.”

She looked a little awkward over this, then her expression brightened. “Are there any spare bookcases in the attic?” she asked.

He shrugged. “We can always commission some new ones made.”

“I bet there are!” Teddy enthused. “There’s all sorts of things in the attics. Shall we take a look up there after lunch?”

“No,” Jeremy answered firmly. “We still have lots of rooms to show your stepmama. Teddy loves prying and poking up there,” he said by way of explanation. “He would spend hours up there if we let him.”

They proceeded with the tour. He fancied Emmeline’s least favorite room was the formal drawing room, which admittedly was not the most welcoming room, decorated as it was in shades of white and gold. Seeing how she gaped at the recessed apse with its supporting Corinthian columns and full-size portrait of Queen Anne in her golden robes, Jeremy felt obliged to speak.

“In his defense, the first Lord Faris was hoping the queen would come and stay here at Vance for a state visit. Sadly, it never came off.”

“I see,” she responded, turning away from the portrait to gaze at the walls which were covered in good copies of various masterpieces.

“Queen Anne had an attack of gout at the last minute and couldn’t come,” Teddy explained as Emmeline halted before a copy of Titian’s Venus Rising from the Sea.

Jeremy coughed. “Come and look at this,” he said, gesturing to a huge foot wearing a sandal carved in gray stone. “The third viscount brought it back from his travels on the grand tour. He always maintained it was the only surviving part of the Colossus of Rhodes.”

“It must certainly have come from a very large statue,” Emmeline observed, joining him in front of the stone foot. “Was not the Colossus of Rhodes very famous?”

“It was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world,” Teddy cut in excitedly. “It stood over one hundred feet tall!”

“Goodness,” Emmeline murmured. “Fancy having part of an ancient wonder in your very own drawing room!”

“Yes,” Teddy agreed before his face clouded over. “Only some people say it cannot be the Colossus’s foot because according to some , it was made of brass not stone.”

“Bronze,” Jeremy corrected him.

“What nonsense! I feel sure there must be as many accounts saying it was made of stone as there are saying it was made of bronze,” Emmeline said stoutly. “That is always the way, I find, when it comes to antiquities. You read one article and it firmly asserts one thing, then another refutes this and offers an entirely different theory. Accounts differ wildly. Who dared slander the Vance family honor in such a fashion?”

“The vicar, for one,” Jeremy said mildly.

“And Lord Atherton for another,” Teddy added indignantly. “He said my great-great-grandfather was probably conned .”

“I don’t believe that for one minute,” Emmeline said, pursing her lips. “I am sure that is a monstrous slander and so I shall tell Lord Atherton next time I see him.” Teddy looked gratified. “Probably the Colossus had some bronze embellishment or else held a torch made of bronze aloft or some such thing. I feel sure I have seen an image of him somewhere holding a torch.”

“Stood astride the harbor?” Teddy asked excitedly. “We have a book in the library that shows a picture like that. Shall I go and fetch it now?”

“Not right now,” Jeremy said firmly. “I think it must be time for lunch. Shall we head for the blue salon? I told them we would take it in there today.”

Luncheon was duly taken in the blue salon. The blue silk wall panels were admired, as was the portrait of Jeremy’s mother in her frothy pink ballgown and pearls.

“Now I see just where you inherited your looks,” Emmeline commented.

“Except for his nose,” Teddy reminded her.

Mrs. Cheviot herself appeared accompanied by two of the housemaids to lay out an impressive spread of finger sandwiches and a variety of little iced cakes. Emmeline asked after her friend and the housekeeper responded that she and Miss Pinson had enjoyed a nice cozy chat over breakfast. “I was sorry to see her go, milady,” she said with a smile. “She was such good company.”

“Go?” Emmeline asked, sounding alarmed. She shot an interrogatory glance at Jeremy.

He set down his coffee cup. “I had Colfax escort Miss Pinson over to Somerton’s old cottage this morning to take a look at it. She will need to decide what needs to be done with the place to make it habitable. I felt sure she would want to see it as soon as possible.”

A thousand questions seemed to tremble on Emmeline’s lips. Finally, she settled for, “I would have liked to accompany her there. She may feel quite overwhelmed and need my support.”

“I think you underestimate her,” Jeremy responded coolly. “Don’t you think she would rather show you around her new home once she feels mistress of it?” She opened her mouth to deny this, then seemed to reconsider, shutting it again. “Just as you can show her around this place now you have the lay of it,” he added with satisfaction.

“Where is Somerton Cottage?” Teddy asked with a frown. “I don’t know that one.”

“Somerton was the gamekeeper who last resided there. I forget its actual name.” He turned to Mrs. Cheviot, who turned to one of the maids.

“Gladys, your uncle lives in one of those gamekeeper’s cottages, doesn’t he?”

Jeremy helped himself to another sandwich, ignoring the suspicious glint in Emmeline’s eye on hearing they were considered cottages for gamekeepers not governesses.

“Oh yes, Mrs. Cheviot,” Gladys replied, “in the little house at the end. Oak Tree Cottage, uncle’s is called, they’re all named after trees in that lane. Now let me see, was it Elm Tree Cottage? Or Fir Tree?” She shook her head. “I couldn’t rightly say. Beg pardon, milord.” She bobbed an apologetic curtsey.

“It’s of no matter, Gladys,” he said. “I’m sure Miss Pinson will give us all the details on her return. She can fill us in over dinner.” He turned to Mrs. Cheviot. “We will dine formally this evening, Mrs. Cheviot.”

“Oh yes, milord, of course,” she said, having clearly anticipated as much. “Will her ladyship wish to look over the menu with me this afternoon?” she asked hopefully.

Jeremy hesitated. He had intended to show Emmeline the rest of the rooms on the second floor but clearly the housekeeper was bursting to show her new mistress the more practical side of the house. Perhaps that would be better, he reflected, before deciding just to ask.

“Emmeline, now that you have seen all the reception rooms here at Vance, how would you like Mrs. Cheviot to give you an overview of the kitchens and servants’ quarters this afternoon?”

She smiled at Mrs. Cheviot. “That would be most agreeable,” she acquiesced, and Jeremy fancied the servants would have a much easier time of it with his second wife than they had with his first.

“Excellent.”

“But Papa, I wished to show Mama my nursery!” Teddy objected.

“There may still be time for that after, my son.”

“If there is, then I shall certainly ask Mrs. Cheviot to bring me to the nursery as soon as we are done,” Emmeline promised.

Seemingly satisfied with this, Teddy returned to his jam tart.

Jeremy spent the afternoon writing notes to various people he needed to see after his Bath sojourn, primarily his estate manager and his man of business. Then there was his sister, Mina, of course, he thought, hesitating, pen in hand.

He would need to break the news of his marriage to her and Nye before much longer. It would not do for them to learn he was married from anyone else. He should really tell them in person. Could he invite them to dine with him tonight?

Though Mina had now visited him at Vance a few dozen times, he had never succeeded in getting Nye to set foot in the place. Despite the unlikelihood of their accepting, he ended up dashing off an invitation anyway.

Dearest Mina and Nye,

Teddy and I have returned to Vance. Momentous news to impart. Come to dinner tonight at seven if you can. Family only. Feel free to bring my nephew with you. I can send a carriage if required. Let Colfax have your response.

Your affectionate brother,

J.V.

Remembering Colfax was at the cottage with Miss Pinson, he scored out Colfax and wrote Higgins , the name of the second footman, then pulled the sash to summon him.

He did not even for one minute think that they would come, even less so when Higgins returned an hour later explaining he had been forced to leave the note for he had failed to locate either Mr. or Mrs. Nye about the place. Their young maid Corin, her hands full looking after Baby James, seemingly had no idea where they were to be found.

“What about Edna?” Jeremy asked, naming their most senior member of staff.

“It’s her day off,” Higgins responded. “She’d gone to visit with an aunt of hers.”

“Curious,” said Jeremy with a shrug. “Ah, well, I did not have high hopes to begin with. Thank you, Higgins.”