A breeze picked up, rattling the leaves in the trees, and she shivered.
“You’re getting cold,” he said. “I’d best be going; I will see you in the morning. What delights have you got in store for me tomorrow?”
“It is Sunday, so we will be in church for most of it.”
“Oh yes, when does the service start?”
“The first one is at eight, the second at ten and there’s evensong at six. But we will have a big midday meal, usually a roast.”
He smiled, “I look forward to it.” he kissed her gently. “Goodnight, my sweet Sarah. Pleasant dreams.” He gave her one more kiss and let her go reluctantly.
She watched him walk out into the street and turn the corner to take him down the main street toward the Blue Boar.
Chapter Nineteen
Despite the duchess’swarning that The Castle was no such thing, and that the architecture was mostly Queen Anne, her cursory description did not prepare Sarah for the sheer size of the place. But then the duchess had also said they had bedrooms for forty guests, and that presumably did not include the family or the servants.
The main part of the house had three stories, plus attics, and the double story wings on either side stretched out and then turned back in L shapes to enclose three sides of a courtyard.
The entrance hall was wood paneled and rather dark, with a staircase that rose and branched on either side to feed both wings of the house. Despite the Queen Anne architecture, medieval touches abounded with suits of armor and swords mounted on the walls in the entrance hall and gallery on the first floor, where Sarah was introduced briefly to several generations of Laynes. There was no doubting the ancient lineage of this family.
“Robert will give you a proper tour of the house later,” said the duchess, leading the way to the east wing, where she and Daphne were to be housed.
Her room was done out in rose pink brocade and velvet and was quite cloying to one accustomed to simpler furnishings.
“This is not the room you will have once you are married. The ducal suit is situated in the center of the house overlooking thegardens.” The duchess smiled. “I hope you like the decoration; I supervised it myself, but you may want to update it. If you do, I won’t be offended, my dear. Every new bride needs to leave her stamp on the place, and I perfectly understand.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it—” said Sarah, overcome by this generosity of spirit. Really, the duchess was so kind to her.
“Don’t be too hasty, my dear. You may think differently once you’ve found your feet. And you needn’t fear I will be in your way here. Robert has assigned the Thornbury estate in Shropshire for my use. I will repair there with the girls after Ava’s season is completed.”
Her maid, Esme, who had arrived earlier with His Grace’s valet in a separate carriage, along with Daphne’s French maid, Fleur, had already unpacked her things, and she was able to wash and change into a fresh gown before joining the family for afternoon tea.
After doing so and entering the drawing room, she found seven sets of eyes on her.
The duchess, in charge of the tea tray, smiled at her. “There you are, I was about to send out a search party!” She hoped that she had not kept them waiting long, but no one seemed less than amiable at her arrival, and she resolved to be swifter in future.
The duke had risen on her entrance and came forward to conduct her to her seat beside him on the sofa. He murmured for her ears alone, “I trust your room is comfortable?”
She glanced sideways at him and nodded. “Thank you, yes.”
Daphne, seated in an armchair to the left of the duchess, smiled at her, too, and she returned the smile perfunctorily.
Ava gave her a twinkling smile which seemed to promise secrets to be shared, and her heart warmed all over again to this sweet young woman who seemed determined to welcome her as a sister with open arms.
The three other females in the room had also risen when she entered, and the youngest two curtsied to her politely.
“These are my sisters, Heather and Ingrid. My fiancée, Miss Sarah Watson,” the duke said, performing the introductions.
The elder most resembled him, having dark hair and blue eyes and a similar cast of features in feminine form. Sarah remembered his description of her as sweet-tempered, restful, and gentle. Holding out her hand, Sarah smiled, “I think my sister Mary is of an age with you,” she said, clasping the girl’s hand.
Heather’s eyes widened and she murmured, “I look forward to meeting her, Miss Watson.”
“Call me Sarah. We are to be sisters, after all.”
“Sarah,” Heather repeated obediently.
The younger was a little older than the twins, Zibby and Emanuel, and followed her eldest sister and mother in coloring. A little rebel, the duke had called her, which would make her fit right in with Zibby.
