“Seven. The oldest is the Norman tower.” Frits started using his fingers to tick them off. “We have a cottage built by my great-grandfather for his wife. A Dutch farmhouse that my grandfather built for my grandmother because she was homesick. A French farmhouse.”
She wondered what it was about farmhouses that made those in the aristocracy feel at home. “Was it based on Marie Antoinette’s Hameau de la Reine?”
“No.” He shook his head. “It was built in the late seventeenth century. We also have a Grecian temple, Roman ruins, a Turkish tent, and a gloriette.”
Georgie was about to ask about the Turkish tent, but she had never heard of a gloriette. “What is a gloriette?”
“It is a room built up off the ground with a balcony.” Adeline settled herself on the carriage bench. “It looks like something out of the playRomeo and Juliet.”
“Except the couple who had it built lived a long and fruitful life,” Frits added. “We shall begin with the tent.”
Georgie kept pace with the carriage and chatted with Adeline as they rode toward the northeast corner of the estate. The day was sunny and warm for October. The trees here were more red than golden. Soon she saw a structure that looked very much like a huge tent but was made from marble. “I have never seen anything like it.”
“I doubt anyone else has either,” Frits said as he helped Adeline down from the carriage. “Never having seen a real Turkish tent, I cannot vouch for its authenticity.”
“What is in it?” The entrance to the tent had been painted to resemble a canvas flap but was a wooden door that slid back.
“Not much more than a bed and a stove for warmth and tea,” Adeline said.
Georgie wandered inside and looked around. Large carpets covered the floor, and chests of various sizes stood along the walls along with cushions and a stove. A large bed hung with blue velvet curtains was in the center of the room. “This is incredible.” She pointed to a low round table atop legs that looked as if they could fold in the middle of several brightly colored silk cushions. “Is that gold?”
“Brass, but gold would be easier to clean,” Frits answered. “I know because my housekeeper complains about the work it takes to keep it shining.” He pointed to the back of the tent. “There are several other tables back there, but the tops have been taken off and stored and the supports folded.”
Georgie strolled over to the tables and noticed how well maintained everything was. And it was clean. There was not a speck of dust anywhere. She wondered if it was due to frequent use and had to fight the heat rising to her cheeks. “She does a very good job of keeping everything clean and polished.”
Frits offered his arm. “We should go or we’ll never get to all of them.”
The gloriette was next and it really did look as if it belonged in a scene fromRomeo and Juliet. It, as well as the tent, was clean, stocked with tea, and the beds were made up with fresh sheets. How large was their staff? It must be huge. It was strange she had not realized it before.
When they arrived at the cottage, she was surprised to find footmen putting the finishing touches on a table set with porcelain dishes, silver, and serviettes. She pulled her friend aside. “Adeline, how many servants do you have on staff?”
“Only about one hundred full-time staff. However, we train local girls and boys and help them find positions. It is better than the alternatives, them not finding work that pays well or leaving for the Americas.”
Their friend Henrietta had told them about girls and some boys who went to London to try to find jobs and were preyed upon by unscrupulous persons. Henrietta’s sister had formed a charity to help people like that. “Who started the scheme?”
“Frits’s mother began it after one of the local girls departed for Town. When her family did not hear from her they told his father, who eventually found her locked in a brothel.” Adeline shivered. “She was never the same afterward.”
Georgie found herself curling her hands into fists. She could not imagine the horror the girl went through. She hoped someone paid for their treachery.
“Well,” Adeline said in an overly cheery tone. “We are doing what we can to stop others from finding themselves in the same position.”
They dined on cold meats, fruit, and their local cheese, which was excellent, then finished the meal with a plum tart. The cottage had doors leading out to a small terrace over the river.
“This is my favorite folly.” Adeline got a misty smile on her face, and Georgie got a strong feeling she did not need to know the reason for it. “Frits offered to build me one of my own, but this cottage suits me perfectly.”
They strolled the small curtilage then finished their tour of the follies.
When they arrived back to the house, two coaches were standing in the curved drive.
“One of them is my mother’s,” Frits said as he went to the other side of the carriage to help Adeline down. “And the other belongs to—”
Georgie’s throat closed painfully as she recognized the crest on the second coach. She forced out the words “Lord Turley.”
“Oh, dear.” Adeline touched Georgie’s arm. “Are you all right?”
Georgie swallowed and for a moment could not speak. She had wanted him to find her, but had begun to think he would not. Despite the fact that she had been considering other unknown men now that he was here, she did not know what to think or feel. She was almost numb from indecision as to how to greet him. It was not at all helpful that her heart was beating so fast she felt breathless. “I shall be fine.”
Chapter Eight
