Still, the smile on her face was genuine.
“Lady Brennon! What a delight!” she cooed, coming forward, hands outstretched. “And these must be your lovely daughters. I am afraid I was not already acquainted with them, but I look forward to getting to know you all better!”
“These are my daughters, Miss Lavinia Brookford and Miss Gillian Brookford.”
They curtsied in tandem. The Dowager smiled benignly at them, gaze skipping over Lavinia and dwelling on Gillian.
“My, what a beauty, Lady Brennon! You must be proud. Her prospects, I should think, are very good.”
Lady Brennon said something grateful. Lavinia didn’t bother to ask for clarification on which daughter the Dowager meant.
“Go straight on upstairs, girls,” the Dowager said, beaming. “You’ll be shown to your rooms, and you can settle in directly.”
They curtsied again, murmuring thanks, and then Lavinia and Gillian were left to sweep away up the wide staircase, deferential servants passing them with downcast eyes.
How am I going to manage?Lavinia thought bleakly.I hate this place already.
A straight-backed housekeeper led them along the carpeted hallways, never once glancing back or addressing them. Gillian followed along after the woman, gaze fixed straight ahead, but Lavinia lingered.
“Where do all these doors go to?” she asked once, calling to the housekeeper. The housekeeper was by this time a good way ahead, faltered, turning back with a vague expression of annoyance.
“Bedchambers, morning rooms, one or two upstairs parlours, and so on, Miss,” she answered shortly. “The upstairs rooms are seldom used by guests, beyond their rooms, of course. Generally, the unused rooms are kept locked.”
A not-so-subtle hint. Gillian nodded earnestly shooting her sister a look which probably meantpray, stop the questions.
Lavinia, of course, was not listening.
Why shouldn’t I explore a little? I’ll likely never stay in such a fine house again, so I might as well make the most of it.
She was already trailing behind, and it was the work of a moment to slow her steps until she was out of sight entirely. Turning around, Lavinia eyed one door in particular, the one which had attracted her attention almost immediately.
It was a huge doorway, arched, with a heavy wooden door and a sparkling brass knob. There was, amusingly, a door-knocker on the outside, shaped classically, a lion with a knocker in its mouth.
She paused, straining her ears, but could hear nothing from inside.
The guests have only just started arriving,she told herself.I doubt this room is occupied yet. Perhaps not at all. If it is, I can always say that I got lost. If it’s not to be used, well, then, it will be locked, won’t it?
She reached out for the brass doorknob, shivering a little at her own daring.
Just a peek won’t hurt.
And then the door abruptly whisked open, leaving Lavinia blinking in the doorway, hand still outstretched for the doorknob.
She found herself staring directly at a nicely folded cravat, sitting atop a yellow waistcoat which stretched across a rather broad chest of a remarkably tall man.
And then Lavinia risked a glance up, and all but wilted.
The man towering over her was the most handsome gentleman she’d ever seen in her life. He was tall, as mentioned, with broad shoulders, a strong chest, and a square-jawed, even-featured face. He had olive skin, thick dark hair, and dazzling green eyes.
He was also rather familiar. Oh, yes. Lavinia had met him before, on the balcony of a party some months ago, when she’d talked with a man under most improper circumstances and talked freely and openly about subjects that ladies were not meant to discuss.
She had assumed that the man – a stranger – would not know her again or remember her. More to the point, that she would not meet him again.
“Your Grace,” she gasped, realizing with a rush just who exactly this man was.
Goodness, this will be a longer and more humiliating stay than I imagined.
The Duke of Dunleigh peered down at her, face impassive. Did he recognize her? It was impossible to stay. Either way, Lavinia’s heart was thundering.
