I shall ask him now. What mischief can it do? It’s only a kiss.
Leaning forward, she opened her mouth, ready to ask.
At that moment, Graham’s eyes slid past her, glancing out of the window, and his face brightened.
“Ah,” he said, closing his book and setting it aside. “Look, we’re almost there.”
Chapter Eleven
“The great object of life is sensation - to feel that we exist, even though in pain.”– Lord Byron
The servants had all assembled to witness her arrival. Ursula swallowed hard, stepping out from the carriage, and attempted to compose her countenance. Did she present the appearance of a proper lady? After the day's long journey, she felt quite rumpled and fatigued, the silk blossoms in her coiffure beginning to wilt, and her hem torn in at least one place where she had trodden upon it. At some point, night had fallen, stars beginning to appear one by one in the violet sky above their heads.
There was nothing else that she could do, however, but to dismount and stand nervously in front of the carriage and stand before two long lines of people in front of her, stretching back the house in increasing order of importance.
Graham offered her his arm. “Come, Lady Sinclair,” he said, offering an encouraging smile. "Come, let us be presented to everyone."
He led her up the stone steps towards the house, past scullery maids, stable boys, kitchen maids, housemaids, gardeners, and of course footmen. The very last woman in the ranks of housemaids was Ruthie, who Graham introduced at once. Ruthie was a pleasant, round-faced woman with a shy smile and red hair poking out from under her cap.
“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Ruthie,” Ursula said, offering a hesitant smile. “I am quite certain we shall get along splendidly.”
Was that the correct thing to say to one’s lady’s maid? It hardly mattered, because Ruthie offered a wide, delighted smile.
“Oh, I hope so to, your ladyship!”
Graham led her on to the doorway, where two men and one woman, dressed all in black, stood apart from the others.
“This is Mrs. Richards, the housekeeper, and Mr. Richards, the butler. They are husband and wife which I suspect you have already understood. This is Morrison, my valet.”
All three of them made neat bows.
“Your room has been prepared, your ladyship,” Mrs. Richards said gently. She was in her prime nearing her fifty years of age, a soft-looking woman with white hair and a gentle face. Her husband rather resembled her, albeit a taller and more masculine version. “I can have refreshments laid out in the drawing room at once, if you wish. Or perhaps a tour?”
Ursula missed a beat before she realised that Graham was not going to answer for her. Suddenly, the idea of patrolling this large house as night fell outside made her feel exhausted. Her shoes pinched, her dress was too tight, and she was tired of smiling and socialising.
“No, thank you, Mrs. Richards,” she answered. “I believe I shall retire straight to bed.”
It was only once the words were out that Ursula realised what she had said.
Bed.
That fateful, thrilling word brought all kinds of ideas with it, and the sure fire knowledge that as soon as she entered her bedroom, her wedding night would begin.
Well, there was no taking it back now. Ursula swallowed thickly, her hand tightening on Graham’s arm.
“Very well, your ladyship,” Mrs. Richards said pleasantly.
Graham was the one who moved to step into the house first, almost pulling Ursula along with him. She stumbled, knocking against him. His arm was firm and strong, and he reached out at once to steady her.
“Careful,” he said, laughing. “We can’t have you breaking your head when you first step over the threshold. It would be terribly bad luck.”
“My apologies,” she responded sheepishly. “I’m just used to following Mama around and waiting for her to lead the way. I must endeavour to alter my way viewpoint, I believe.”
“Indeed you must. A viscountess leads the way; she is notled.”
She glanced hastily up at him, wondering if he was mocking her. There was indeed a smile on his face, but a kindly one. When he glanced down and met her eye, he gave awink.
They had entered the foyer, a cavernous space that was all marble and stone walls, which gave way to a carpeted hallway and a thickly carpeted set of stairs. Graham led the way upwards, still with Ursula’s hand on his arm.
