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Markham was by far the most intimidating estate she'd ever seen. Sprawling, endless acres of land greeted her eyes, beyond which sat a towering gothic mansion. "It's huge." She swallowed, feeling suddenly nervous. "I expected it to be imposing. But I never expected this."
"Nor did I," Brigitte admitted. "It is a bit overwhelming."
Their driver pulled around front of the manor, where four footmen were awaiting to assist with the bags. An elderly butler stood in the entranceway, bowing as they made their way to the door.
"Good day, my lord," he greeted Eric.
"Good day," Eric replied, guiding Brigitte and his daughters into the manor. "I'm the Earl of Farrington. I believe my family and I are expected."
"Indeed. His Grace advised me you'd be arriving sometime this afternoon. Welcome to Markham." He bowed to each of them in turn. "My name is Langley. If there's anything you need during your stay, don't hesitate to ask." With that, he gestured toward a waiting footman. "Woods will show you to your quarters. The duke and duchess are in the green salon, taking tea with a few of their guests. I'll summon them at once."
"That's not necessary, Langley," Eric assured him. "Let them relax before the hectic pace of the next few days. We'll have plenty of time to chat later. Besides, my family and I have had a long journey. I'm sure we'd all like a chance to freshen up."
"Very good, sir. I'll advise the duke and duchess of your arrival. Once you've freshened up, you're welcome to join them, to stroll about the grounds, or to rest in your chambers until dinner. Whatever pleases you. Dinner will be served at seven." Langley lifted his head as a small, happy shriek from somewhere outside reached their ears. "That would be Lady Cara," he explained with as much pride as if she were his. "The duke and duchess's granddaughter. She's playing a rousing game of hide-and-seek with her uncle."
"She sounds like she's enjoying herself immensely," Brigitte returned with a smile. "There's nothing as magical as the sound of a child's laughter."
Noelle had stopped listening after the word uncle. Instead, she was staunchly trying to figure out which "uncle" in particular Lady Cara might be frolicking with. Did Ashford have brothers? If so, it could just as easily be one of them. Still…
Turning, she inched toward the door and peered across the grounds, trying to place precisely where the laughter had come from.
"Noelle." Brigitte lay a hand on her daughter's arm. "Let's get settled in."
"Mama, would you mind very much if I took a walk first?" Noelle requested, her voice kept purposely low. "I'm filled with so much energy after that endless carriage ride. And the grounds are lovely."
Brigitte cast a quick glance over her shoulder, only to see Eric and Chloe still standing in the hallway, Eric's dark head bent to Chloe's as he answered one of her countless questions.
"Very well," Brigitte decided, turning back to Noelle. "But only for a few minutes. Your father won't be happy if you're away too long. Especially once he deduces the real reason for your excess energy—and your stroll."
Mother and daughter exchanged a long, understanding look.
"Thank you, Mama," Noelle whispered.
"Use this time to make certain this is right for you, darling."
"I will." Noelle slipped out of the manor.
The late afternoon was cool, but not frigid, and the fresh air actually did feel quite good, as did stretching her legs. Noelle walked a bit, then halted as another peal of laughter accosted her.
It came from a grove of trees a short distance away.
Gathering up her skirts, she scooted toward it.
She hadn't gone ten steps when a little girl exploded from the trees and crashed directly into her.
"Oh, I'm sorry." The child, who appeared to be about seven years old, pressed her palm to her mouth, staring up at Noelle through distressed grey eyes. "I didn't know anyone was out here except us."
Noelle squatted down and smiled. "You don't need to apologize. It was I who collided with you." A mischievous twinkle. "I'm actually quite a good runner myself."
"Really? Would you like to join our game then? I'm sure Uncle Ashe wouldn't mind."
"Uncle Ashe?" Noelle nearly leaped to her feet, her heart skipping a beat.
"Um-hum." The child twisted a strand of tawny hair about her forefinger. "My name's Cara—after my great-grandmother. What's yours?"
"Noelle—after Christmas. That's when I was born."
"Do you get two celebrations or one?"
