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Now that Alice looked closer, she could see the matron was right. There were old pictures hanging on the walls, which spoke of family members now grown or gone. Beside them, there were fresh curtains and new glass panes in the windows. The shape and legs of the furniture showed it to be from a bygone era, but the upholstery was done up in a currently fashionable pattern and fabric.
Alice was impressed. “That requires quite a fine eye and no small amount of skill to mix the old with the new.”
“I flatter myself that it does.” Mrs. Dowding delved into a lengthy discussion regarding all she’d done in this room alone. How she’d tackled each piece with an eye to preserving the old, when possible, and celebrating the new when not.
As she spoke, Alice’s gaze continually wandered toward Lord Brooks and Miss Dowding. Occasionally he laughed, but it wasn’t the joyful, full laughter she’d heard yesterday. This was a polite laugh, one perfectly suited to parlors and respectable company.
Still, it was a laugh. He wouldn’t have laughed if he wasn’t enjoying his time with Miss Dowding. They did look good together. Lord Brooks, with his jacket so beautifully filled out and his brown hair framing his lovely eyes and smile. Miss Dowding, all the more petite beside him, looking at him through her lashes.
Alice readjusted her legs, crossing them as Lord Robins had. She’d never had a London Season. Alice had gone almost overnight from wearing her hair in braids to wearing a wedding dress. There had been a few gentlemen about town who’d caught her eye, but she had known better than to dream or hope. Her role in her father’s household had always been to marry the richest man of the highest title her father could find. And so she had, just as soon as she’d been of age.
Which meant she’d had no true experience flirting or attracting a man. She’d never danced with a gentleman one night then waited for him to call the next day; she’d never been overjoyed to see that same gentleman at a card party the following afternoon.
Watching Miss Dowding smile demurely and flutter her lashes, Alice felt suddenly naive and inexperienced, no matter that she was a widow with a son. Was it any wonder that, after Lord Brooks had pulled her away from their snowman and then Joseph had come running back, that he’d let go of her and acted the rest of the afternoon as though nothing at all had happened between them? He hadn’t even admitted to his aunt and friends that he’d spent time with Lady Nightingale.
“Why don’t I show you,” Mrs. Dowding said, breaking into Alice’s thoughts. “It is only in the next room over. If you like the hearth in here, you’ll love what I’ve done with that one.”
“Sounds like an excellent idea.” Alice stood quickly, then offered her hand to help the matron rise.
“It has become quite a feature of the room, I can assure you.”
“I am confident I will love it as much as you suggest.” If nothing else, Alice certainly loved the idea of getting out of this room and not having to watch Miss Dowding and Lord Brooks together any longer. Whatever her own heart was about, it was proving itself quite a fool. Lifting her chin, Alice motioned for Mrs. Dowding to go before her. “Please, lead the way.”
