Page 13 of No Ordinary Lady

It was not a place to relax and laugh, though, or be careless where Daniel left his possessions. Everything had its proper place here and served a purpose, even him now.

Daniel stepped toward the open terrace door into the drawing room to find his mother standing in the doorway, waiting for him already. She must have seen the carriage turn into the stable yard instead of stopping before the manor house, as it ought to have done.

Mother was unhappy.

Daniel could see it in the way she met his gaze as she stood on the threshold of the manor house, blocking his way inside. Although used to such a frosty reception after a period of absence, whether he arrived at the front door or the rear, he fought not to be disappointed that anything more affectionate to celebrate his return had been denied him.

Mother had been a distant figure in his life and was a slave to propriety, too. She was all frost and bristles, night and day. As unlike the housekeeper as it was possible to get.

The way she looked at him now suggested she was disappointed in him and his tardy arrival. Sunday should have let their return be a surprise—as he’d intended all along.

Daniel smiled at her, refusing to be intimidated or apologize. As a young boy, he’d cowered and stammered out endless apologies, clinging to Granny’s skirts for protection. Granny had always approved of every wild thing he’d ever done. Mother never forgave her for that.

And somehow, she always knew he’d been up to mischief while they’d been apart. She couldn’t know yet about the wild party he’d attended just after leaving London or the woman he’d just left in the last village, either. Yet somehow, Mama would find out and then she’d probably act as if he’d committed great misdeeds. She was utterly terrified of scandal and Daniel refused to be ashamed of his past actions, so they would forever be at odds.

Yet it was the future that mattered now, not the past. He was going to set the ground rules for how their relationship would go from now on. “Good day, Mother.”

“Scarsdale,” she said. It pained him that she would never call him by anything other than his title. But upon Father’s death, she’d grown even more remote when addressing him. “You’re looking well, my lord.”

“As are you, Mother,” he murmured, refusing to continue the use of speaking to each other with only their titles, but he held his place on the threshold until invited inside.

“Please, come in,” she said finally. Formally. It had gotten worse when he’d inherited, and he doubted she’d ever change now. But he intended to. The last time they’d spent together in the London town house had been awkward and fraught with constant disagreement between them. He’d gone out often rather than bringing any of his friends home to visit.

He’d been relieved when she’d packed her trunks and gone back to the countryside at the end of that last season, claiming it was a pointless waste of her time being there if he wasn’t serious about finding a bride among the debutants fresh on the market.

He hadn’t followed her to Lancashire, of course. He’d enjoyed having the town house all to himself for a change. But after a while, loneliness had set in, and he’d spent more time out than in.

When the one woman he’d truly admired, Aurora Hillcrest, had seemed set to choose another man over him, he’d known deep down he wouldn’t find what he longed for in London.

Daniel took his first steps into his mother’s drawing room. Technically, it was his drawing room, but the first and only time he’d ever dared mention that fact, Mother had pierced him with a look of such coldness, he never wanted to live through it again.

“I’d be pleased to,” he answered, striding in, then sitting down in a visitor’s chair opposite her. He leaned back as comfortably as he could manage in the ill-padded seat and too-short chair.

Mother took her customary place by the fire, ignoring his discomfort as she always did. “I trust your journey was uneventful.”

“Yes,” he replied as he retrieved a pillow from the settee to stuff behind his back, causing Mother’s expression to flicker with disapproval. The visitor’s chair was an object of torture, designed to keep guests alert and their stay in this room as brief as possible.

Mama didn’t really care to hear the details of his journey home, and he wasn’t about to enlighten her about the dangers he feared he’d encounter. So, he made no further comment on the subject and talked about the weather instead for a time. “I gather the estate continues on in pleasant harmony.”

He knew the answer to the question already. Sunday’s mother was a great correspondent, telling him things through her son that mother would never dare put into words. There’d been difficulties between Mama and Granny nearly every single week of late. Their squabbling was common but not so frequent as it had been reported about lately.

Her lips pursed momentarily. “Yes, of course. I know my duty. I notified the household staff of your impending arrival weeks ago, and I’m sure your chambers have been aired sufficiently by now for your immediate occupation.”

Daniel ignored the subtle dig about his being late and looked around the drawing room. Nothing ever changed here. Not in all the years since Father had passed away.

But there was one notable absence he cared very much about. “Where’s Granny?”

“Mrs. Nolan will be along shortly, I’m sure,” Mother said with a slight sniff of annoyance at his question.

“Good.” Daniel had been hoping to see his granny standing out on the lawn. His grandmother had boundless energy and a rather lax view of proper decorum. Something Mother heartily and frequently mentioned her disapproval of out loud.

He heard an odd sound, an odd creak and groan, and turned slightly to look where it came from.

After a moment or two, Granny burst through the doorway, pushing a young woman seated in the ancient rolling invalid chair rather haphazardly. He’d last seen that chair in the attics and, before that, his father had used it.

He burst to his feet, even as Mother clucked her tongue. “Really, Mrs. Nolan. This is beyond the pale. Young lady, have you no backbone? I told you what must be done with her.”

“I’m sorry, my lady. She refused to use it unless I took a turn in the chair, too. She claimed the rolling motion made her sick and vowed to prove it to me today,” the young woman murmured, leaping out of the chair with a fiery blush coloring her cheeks. She glanced over at Daniel and blanched. “Forgive me. I didn’t know you had company, my lady,” she said, dipping him a curtsy.