“Then I don’t understand why we’re going to pay him a call.”
“You’ll ... see after things for him.”
What a strange turn in the conversation. And then it dawned on her—
“You mean I have been employed to manage his household?”
“I am not certain exactly what your duties will entail, but you will see to his needs.”
Why didn’t he look at her? Why didn’t he meet her gaze? Why was he being so blasted mysterious regarding her purpose? Was he embarrassed that he had found her employment rather than a husband—that his own place in Society had not allowed him to do more for her? She didn’t wish him to feel as though he had failed in his promise to her father, but still this was rather odd going.
The carriage turned onto a cobblestone drive. In spite of her best intentions, she leaned over and peered out the window. A grand residence, larger than Geoffrey’s, loomed before them. She could not help but be impressed. “He must be incredibly wealthy to live in a place such as this.”
“Embarrassingly so.”
She heard the resentment then, the anger. Geoffrey had said he owed him. Was she to work for Rafe Easton as a way to pay off her brother’s debts? Surely this arrangement would be only temporary, until someone spoke for her. “How long will I work here?”
“As long as he wants you.”
The carriage rattled to a stop. A footman opened the door. Geoffrey leapt out as though his seat had suddenly caught fire. The servant handed her down.
“Geoffrey, I’m not quite sure I understand.”
“It’ll all be explained. Come along.” He dashed up the wide sweeping steps.
She contemplated climbing back into the carriage, but if she were being paid for her services, she might have the means to see after herself until she could find a proper husband. She supposed the least she could do was listen to the terms of the arrangement. Lifting her skirts, she walked up the stairs. At the beginning and end of them sat the most hideous stone gargoyles. They seemed to fit their owner. Based upon her limited interaction with him, she couldn’t imagine him suffering through cherubs dancing about.
As soon as she reached the top, where Geoffrey waited, a butler opened the door and she glided through, aware of Geoffrey following in her wake. The inside was even more impressive, with frescoed ceilings, exquisite artwork, and statuary standing about. But she saw nothing personal. No portraits. All the paintings were landscapes: stormy seas and dark forests. Everything was arranged perfectly, too perfectly, as though it was all for show.
“Miss Evelyn Chambers to see Mr. Rafe Easton,” Geoffrey said. “She’s expected.”
“Yes, my lord, as I am well aware, but regretfully the master is not yet home. However, I have been instructed to see to Miss Chambers’s comforts until he arrives. Miss, if you’ll follow me to the parlor?”
She’d taken a mere half-dozen steps when she realized that Geoffrey was not accompanying her. Turning to face him, she asked, “Geoffrey, are you not coming?”
“No.”
“You’re leaving me here?”
“Yes.”
“But you’ll be returning for me?”
“Easton will explain everything.” With that, he placed his hat on his head, spun on his heel, and walked out the front door.
When she took a step forward to follow and question his odd behavior further, the butler gently touched her arm. “It’ll be all right, miss.”
He was not terribly old, somewhere in his thirties, she suspected. He had dark hair and kind brown eyes. His clothing, like everything that surrounded them, was immaculate.
“I fear Geoffrey has told me very little. I understand that I’m to manage the household.”
“I have no doubt that all the servants will heed your wishes.”
“What is your name?”
“I am known as Laurence.” He bowed slightly, extended his hand. “Please allow me to escort you to the parlor.”
She gave a brisk nod and followed a half step behind him. “How many servants are there?”
