Hethersleigh was not an elegant Georgian manor, like Brambleton. It was a stark, unpolished building whose battlements proclaimed that it had been built in a more violent era. Seen against the approaching twilight, it might have been the least-welcoming country house Lucy had ever seen.
Was she really going to live here?
But Devlin beamed at the brooding hall as if it were a cozy cottage. “Home at last!” he said. “I imagine you are as weary as I am.” A hint of a smile lingered on his face as he helped Lucy out of the chaise.
The butler, a well-built man with distinguished-looking silver hair winging over his temples, opened the door with a grand gesture. “Welcome home, Sir Devlin, and—?” He arched one eyebrow.
Devlin’s smile broadened. “Yes, Pomeroy, this is your new mistress. You may tell everyone below stairs that there is a new Lady Colfax.”
“Very good, sir.”
Pomeroy looked genuinely pleased, though Lucy couldn’t imagine why. He might not know anything bad about her, but he could know nothing good, either.
A pair of shrill voices broke the dignified silence. “Dev! You’re back!”
Two girls raced down the wide central staircase. Both were tall, dark haired, and rosy cheeked, but they were several years apart in age. The younger one looked no more than ten, while the elder one seemed to be in her early teens.
Confused, Lucy looked up at her husband. He’d told her that he had no children, so who were these young ladies?
He leaned his head closer and whispered in her ear: “My sisters. Children of my father’s second marriage.”
“Oh!” Strange that he’d never mentioned them.
The girls rushed up to their brother. The elder one paused to curtsey, but the younger one simply threw herself into his arms. “Dev!” she shrieked. “Is it true you’re getting married?”
Devlin lifted her off the ground for a quick bear hug. “I am notgettingmarried, I amalreadymarried. May I present your new sister-in-law, Lucy?” He flashed a bright smile at Lucy.
“I am very pleased to meet you.” Finding out that she had sisters-in-law might be a surprise, but it was a pleasant one. She liked getting a glimpse of Devlin’s domestic side.
“So, it is true, Devlin? You eloped with a young lady no one has even heard of?”
Lucy tipped her head up to see who had spoken. With her dark hair and a long oval face, the woman standing at the top of the staircase looked very much like Devlin’s sisters. If that hadn’t sufficiently identified her, her mourning gown would have done so.
The baronet’s smile became more fixed. “Ah, Step-mama! Good to see you looking so well. I am happy to report that the rumors true. I have married the former Miss Lucy Halliwell, of Chipping Durston, Surrey.”
Lucy started to curtsey, belatedly remembered that she was now a baronetess, corrected herself, and ended up nearly toppling over. She stiffened her lips, hoping to hide her embarrassment.
“Charmed.” The dowager nodded politely at Lucy, then shot a wry look at Devlin. “I was so certain that the rumored elopement was merely another of dearest Dev’s jokes. I stand corrected.” She gracefully descended the staircase.
“Indeed, it is no joke, my lady. I am the most fortunate of men.”
Lucy bit her lip to keep from smiling at that. The most fortunate of men, was he? She had her doubts.
But when Lady Colfax stood before her, Lucy lifted her chin and put steel in her smile. “I am glad to see you, ma’am. I have been wanting to meet Sir Devlin’s dear stepmother. So very kind of you to welcome us! Meeting your successor must be rather awkward, I suppose.”
The corners of Lady Colfax’s mouth tipped down. “Nonsense! I am delighted to see Devlin settled at last, even if his marriagewasunexpected.”
“It should not be unexpected, ma’am,” Devlin said, “since I promised I would choose a bride by today. As you see, I am a man who keeps his promises.”
His expression shifted when he turned toward Lucy. “You would no doubt appreciate a chance to freshen up after your travels. Let me show you to your room.” He glanced at Lady Colfax as he said, “I assume you have put her in the Lilac Room?”
Lady Colfax tinkled a laugh. “Put the lady of the manor in a guest room, Dev? Of course not. I have prepared the Oak Room for her. It will be more convenient for the two of you.” Her smile twisted into a smirk.
Lucy had no idea why her husband stiffened. He hesitated a moment before replying, “Naturally, I should have thought of that.” He looked back at Lucy as he explained, “The Oak Room is part of the master suite, and is traditionally occupied by the mistress of the house. My mother was very fond of the chamber.”
A frown creased Lucy’s forehead. There was something wrong here, but she could not guess what. Too exhausted to ask questions, she followed her husband upstairs to her new chamber.
There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the Oak Room itself, other than that most of the furnishings were at least two generations out of date. Everything from the red japanned cabinet near the bed to the ornate armchairs beside the fireplace looked clean and well-maintained. The room was rather dark, but the fire burning in the grate gave it a softer, cozier look.
