Page 37 of A Gifted Earl

The amount of organisation required was huge – massive amounts of food, extra staff, the cleaning and airing of a whole wing of Templewick Grange, the similar preparation of stables and space in the coach house – that was just the beginning. His mother had taken to the whole process with a kind of ferocious joy which he envied, and was utterly grateful for as well.

Quite how he would keep all of these people entertained, he wasn’t sure.

He stared at the list in front of him, and gave a low groan of frustration. Once one exhausted the completely obvious, like hunting, and rides around the grounds, and a ball or celebratory dinner one evening, it became harder and harder to think up entertainments which might amuse adults. Children would have been far easier.

There were silly indoor games, like charades, and less silly ones, like cards. There were outdoor games and activities, like archery – assuming the required equipment actually existed somewhere in the store rooms or attics – he had set a number of footmen the task of exploring to look for such things. There were things like asking the guests to collaborate on the production of a small play, or perhaps a poetry reading would be easier. Most of the ideas made him shudder – he, personally, would not want to indulge in such activities, so why should he expect other people to do so?

But… his mother had assured him that they would expect such things.

He went back to the list, praying that things would be simplified by the footmen discovering the equipment for certain activities, and not others, thus removing choice. His thoughts however, refused to stay on innocuous entertainments.

Instead, the image of Lady Venetia rose in his mind, and he smiled, dreaming of the moment when he would see her again – for see her he would, as the acceptance from her mother, for both of them, had arrived this morning. This time, he would not be such a fool – he would, assuming she seemed likely to be receptive, make certain that she knew of his interest in her.

But would she be interested in him? Had he misread the way she had acted towards him, in London? He did not think so…

He forced himself to turn back to the numerous lists on his desk – it was a time for action, not for dreaming – dreaming could come later.

*****

Half of the guests had already arrived – mainly the gentlemen, with the ladies expected over the next two days. Morgan went down to the foyer, having just heard the sound of carriage wheels on the gravel – he had no idea who would arrive next, but he liked to greet his guests personally.

Pelham, the butler, opened the front door as Morgan reached the first-floor landing, and paused to watch. The first man through the door was Lord Wilborough – a decent enough seeming chap, although somewhat prone to gambling, from what Morgan had heard. The second man, however, was not a man that Morgan recognised.

He frowned, a faint memory surfacing of his mother saying that one man had said he was bringing a friend, and hurried down the last flight of steps. The two men turned, having just handed their hats and coats to Pelham.

“Good Day, gentlemen. Welcome to my home. Wilborough, I don’t believe I’ve met your friend?”

Lord Wilborough grinned, and waved a hand at the other man.

“This is Lord Jasper Chater – Chater, this is Lord Templewick.”

It was, as introductions went, about the most informal he’d ever been faced with. He raised an eyebrow at Wilborough, and turned to face Lord Jasper.

“Lord Jasper – I hope that you will enjoy your stay. Pelham here will have a footman show you to your rooms, and we’ll have your luggage brought up. After you’ve refreshed yourselves, ask a footman to show you to the large parlour – everyone has just begun to gather for drinks, and dinner will be at seven.”

Lord Jasper smiled – and Morgan clenched his teeth – the man did not look pleasant – rather, he appeared arrogant and almost sneering.

“Oh, I’m quite certain that I’ll enjoy myself, Templewick. If things are dull, there are always ways to liven house parties up.”

He gave a bow, and turned to go with Wilborough, following the waiting footman. Morgan watched them walk away, then met Pelham’s eyes.

“That one will bear watching, I think, if you would advise the staff.”

“Indeed, my Lord. I will do so.”

Morgan turned, and went in search of his mother, intent on asking her what she knew of this Lord Jasper.

*****

It was close on what might normally be dinner time when their carriage finally drew up before the imposing house which was Templewick Grange. Venetia, upon stepping out of the carriage and looking up at the enormous building, found herself overwhelmed, and nervous as a result.

Which was ridiculous – she had coped with ton events in London, all whilst being mocked and scorned – why should she feel nervous about a country house party?

She took a deep breath, and followed her mother up the steps, to where a butler was waiting at the open door. They gave him their names, and as he went to speak, Venetia’s attention was caught by movement, and she looked past the butler to the elegant staircase which dominated the large foyer. The staircase which Lord Templewick was, at that very moment, descending.

Her mouth was suddenly dry, and her heart ran twice as fast as usual. He was, if that was possible, even more handsome than she had remembered. In that instant, she wanted him to care for her, more than she had ever wanted anything in her life before. His eyes met hers, and he smiled – a genuine, welcoming smile, with no hint of disgust at the existence of her scar. Something inside her unfurled, like fluttering wings.

He reached the bottom of the stairs, and came to them immediately.