Page 38 of A Gifted Earl

“Lady Hardenwell, Lady Venetia, I am so glad that you could come – the party will be all the better for your company.”

He bowed, and both she and her mother curtsied.

“We are very happy to be here, my Lord, for Christmas was most likely to be very quiet, and now you have given us this opportunity for convivial company!”

Her mother’s voice was warm, and Venetia felt sure that Lord Templewick knew what she meant by ‘very quiet’ but was far too polite to comment. Instead, he gave that delightful smile again.

“I am sure that you must be tired after your journey,” he waved a maid forward, from where she stood, waiting, “Anna will show you to your rooms, and make sure that your maid and your luggage find their way to you as quickly as possible. Once you have freshened up, everyone who has arrived so far can be found in the large parlour. Dinner is scheduled for an hour from now, so your arrival was timed perfectly.”

“Thank you for your consideration. We will join you in the parlour soon.”

With that, they followed the maid, as Lord Templewick turned his attention to another new arrival, whose carriage had, at that moment, drawn up outside.

The rooms they had been allocated were large, and shared a small sitting room, and each had a dressing room, plus there was a small room off one dressing room for Molly. Overall, it was most satisfactory, and, as Lady Hardenwell remarked, a stark contrast to the rooms they had first been offered at Hardenwell House when they had gone to London.

Even more so was the service they received – they were offered a warm bath, should they wish it, and the assistance of another maid if needed. Venetia had thought well of Lord Templewick before, but now, her opinion of him was further enhanced.

Molly unpacked their clothes – at least enough for them to change out of their travelling clothes, and into something more appropriate for dinner.

“Does this suit, Mother?”

“It does – and with just a touch of face powder, the scar won’t be noticeable – it really has faded a lot.”

“Do you think so? To me, it still looks so very obvious.”

“As there is nothing more you can do about it, you must simply not think about it – just focus on being charming, and hope that in an intimate environment like this, you can make a connection with a suitable gentleman.”

Venetia sighed.

“I suppose you are right. We had best go down and discover who else is here. I do hope that there isn’t anyone I dislike – a week cooped up with someone unpleasant would not be conducive to Christmas cheer.”

“I do agree – but the only way we can discover who is here, is to go down now.”

Venetia nodded, and, with one last look in the mirror, turned to the door.

In the corridor, a footman waited to show them to the large parlour, and they followed him through the house. The walls were filled with paintings – some portraits, obviously of previous Earls, some landscapes, and some of the older style hunting pictures. Everything about the building spoke of wealth and elegance.

When they reached the parlour, the footman opened the door, and announced them, then, as they stepped inside, shut the door behind them. Venetia looked around, seeing, with relief, a few of the young ladies she had known in London – the wallflowers, not the beauties – and a few men she remembered, even if she had not ever conversed with them. Then, as people on the other side of the room shifted, she saw something – or rather, someone – that she did not expect.

She half-stumbled, and clutched her mother’s arm momentarily.

“Venetia? What is it?”

“Mother – over there… it’s Jasper, I’m sure of it!”