“I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Ingrid,” said Sarah and received a big grin in response that quite surprised her. These girls seemed most inclined to embrace her warmly also. Really, she couldn’t fault Robert’s family for their warmth.
The third female could have been anywhere between twenty-five and thirty and was dressed in a plain, dark-blue gown and spencer made high to the neck. Her hair was confined to a chignon on the nape of her neck and her only ornament was a small brooch in the shape of a lover’s knot, and decorated in seed pearls, pinned to her left breast.
“And this is Miss Pringle, the girls’ governess,” said the duke.
Miss Pringle also curtsied and murmured, “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Watson.”
When everyone was seated, the duchess dispensed tea and cakes and began to outline the events of the next week leading upto the wedding. It was abundantly clear to Sarah that she was to have no leisure time at all. The duchess seemed bent on ensuring her new daughter-in-law was inculcated into the role she was soon to fill. Sarah reflected that she ought to be grateful. The duchess could have made her life hell. Instead, she seemed to be determined to be as helpful as possible. Sarahwasgrateful, but she couldn’t help but be a little overwhelmed.
“When do you expect the boys?” asked the duchess of the duke, sipping her tea and selecting a biscuit from the array of delicacies on the tray.
“In the next couple of days,” he replied.
“And your family is due to arrive tomorrow, is that correct?” she asked, directing her question to Sarah.
“Yes, Mama Duchess,” Sarah said, using the more familial appellation the duchess insisted she address her with.
“Good, we will accommodate them in the west wing. There are nine of them, is that right?”
“My parents, four sisters and three brothers,” confirmed Sarah with a slightly apologetic air.
“Servants?” asked the duchess crisply.
Thrown, Sarah looked at her bewildered.
“Are your parents bringing any servants with them?” elaborated the duchess.
“Ah—no, we only have a part-time housekeeper in the vicarage and the blacksmith’s daughter who helps out in the kitchen. Neither of them will be coming.”
The duchess raised her eyebrows. “Who is to look after the children?”
Sarah flushed and the duke leaned forward to select a finger of plum cake. “Mr. and Mrs. Watson will take care of their offspring.”
“How peculiar,” said the duchess with a shrug of one shoulder.
“They are quite housetrained, Mama,” he said with a slight smile.
The duchess threw him a speaking look, and Sarah quailed at the thought of her brothers and Zibby running riot through the ducal demesne. She hoped fervently that Papa would keep a tight rein on them. It would be so embarrassing if they caused a rumpus.
“I understand Ashford is bringing his brood, too, so perhaps their nanny can help out,” he said.
At the conclusion of afternoon tea, far from being able to rest, she was swept off by the duchess to meet the housekeeper and the cook for a discussion on the arrangements being made for the wedding guests and the wedding feast itself.
Her family’s arrival the following day put Sarah in mind of a plague of locusts. She flinched seeing the duchess wince as the boys came roaring into the entrance hall only to be brought up short by a word from Papa. The duke then stepped into the breach, promising the boys a tour of the armory on the morrow.
Two days after that, the first guests began to arrive, among them, she was glad to learn, Viscount Ashford and his wife and offspring.
After shaking the duke’s hand in welcome, he smiled at Sarah and said, “Let me offer my felicitations again, Miss Watson.” He squeezed her hand slightly, his hazel eyes shining with his usual warmth. Really, he was such a nice man.
Lady Ashford smiled at Sarah and embraced her kindly. She leaned in to air kiss Sarah’s cheek and Sarah stooped a little to accommodate her. Caroline was so very tiny she made Sarah feel inordinately tall. The lady smelled of roses, and her cheek was damask smooth, so beautiful.
Sarah noticed three children standing silently behind the viscount and his lady, two girls on either side of and holding thehands of a little boy. “And these are yours?” she asked, smiling at them.
“Lizzie, Charlotte, and Ewen,” said the viscount with a proud smile. “Make your bows, children.”
The girls curtsied and the little fellow who seemed a miniature of his sire bowed solemnly.
The viscount looked toward the duke, who was making polite conversation with Lady Ashford, and said apologetically. “I’m sorry, old man, but we were forced to come without the nanny. Wretched woman tendered her notice just before we left, and I haven’t had a chance to get a replacement.
