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Tony looked at the endless list in her hand, then raised her brows as she wondered if he were serious. “I’ve only got a week,” she said faintly.
“Good God, boy, the universe was created in a week,” Adam pointed out.
With the invaluable help of Roz and Mr. Burke to ferret out furniture treasures from St. Martin’s Lane to Soho, she went on a buying spree at Ince and Mayhew, Vile and Cobb, and Robert Manwaring’s shop. Tony was in her element, deciding that each chamber should represent the craftsmanship of a famous London cabinetmaker.
Thomas Sheraton’s designs were greatly influenced by French furnishings in the style of Louis XIV, and Tony bought matching cream and gilt pieces. The chaise longue and bedhangings were a delicate French blue. A second bedchamber would showcase George Hepplewhite’s classical designs. She chose a bed with an oval headboard as well as a matching settee and upholstered armchairs whose oval backs were decorated by the Prince of Wales’s feathers. Stunning little rosewood drum tables with drawers to hold money or toilet articles were a specialty of Hepplewhite and they complimented the other furnishings.
Robert Adam’s designs were the absolute rage at the moment and as a result the pieces were priced outrageously. Tony didn’t even ask the cost of the marble-topped commode and bedside tables with their hand-painted panels of lovers in romantic landscapes. She couldn’t resist a pair of carved candelabra stands with ram’s heads and world-famous hoof feet. The magnificent domed bed was carved into a festoon of vines and flowers.
On impulse, simply for the pleasure of annoying Adam Savage, she decided one chamber would be Chinese. She chose a pair of Chippendale black japanned armchairs, upholstered in jade velvet, and a black lacquer commode with golden pagodas, temples, and trees dripping cherry blossoms. The bed was a thing of great beauty, with a magnificently carved dragon in rampant splendor forming the headboard. She chose jade velvet bedhangings to match the side chairs.
Tony took intense delight in everything she chose, even down to the porcelain powder bowls and the chamber pots. Everything must be delivered to Edenwood no later than Thursday noon so that she could plenish the chambers later that day or Friday morning at the latest, in time for any early guests who might arrive Friday evening.
John Bull welcomed Tony like a prodigal son. They immediately conspired to have every room perfect by the time Savage arrived with those critical ice-blue eyes. Fortunately John Bull had a full staff of servants who earned higher wages at Edenwood than at any other stately home in England. They carried the furniture up the gracefully curving staircase almost cheerfully and patiently stood by to arrange and rearrange as young Lord Lamb directed. It was amazing how well the carpets and the French wallpaper blended with the furnishings Tony had selected. Savage’s taste and hers certainly ran along parallel lines.
By nightfall every last detail was in place. When Adam arrived after dark and strolled about his Eden, no fault could be found with the extraordinary efforts that had been expended to turn his house into a palatial showcase.
Flushed with praise, Tony was happy but exhausted. Savage’s presence always disturbed her to an alarming degree, so she was glad to retire. She decided to sleep in the blue-and-gold room with its exquisite French wallpaper, but Kirinda glided up to her with a lighted branch of perfumed candles and murmured, “The master instructed me to put you in the Chinese bedchamber, my lord.”
Tony bit her lip to keep from laughing. Chinoiserie was a private joke between her and Adam and she took delight in it. In bed she hugged her knees to her chest. She hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. Her masquerade had its compensations. Adam Savage had allowed Anthony to become a part of his life, whereas she doubted if he would have allowed Antonia such liberties. She sighed, then yawned, hoping she would dream about him.
As it happened, she did not. She stood in the cold light of dawn in a black mask and a long cloak. Icy fingers clutched her heart as she selected a long, lethal-looking pistol from a leather case. In slow motion she paced off the field as her second counted to ten. Her opponent on the field of honor had none, for he turned and fired his pistol on the count of nine. She felt the bullet enter her chest, searing white hot, then blossoming into blood-red.
Bernard Lamb removed his mask and murmured, “For what I am about to receive, I am truly thankful. Amen.”
When morning arrived, Tony groaned and turned over. It felt as if she had taken no rest at all. She climbed wearily from the dragon bed and grimaced because she ached from head to foot. She brightened, however, when Kirinda came in and handed her a note from Savage. She scanned it eagerly and read:Tony, put on some old breeches and come take a look at the stable of thoroughbreds I stole from HRH.
Perhaps a ride was just what she needed. John Bull had told her Adam intended to provide mounts for all his guests if they felt like riding. She’d been too busy the previous day to visit the stables, but hurried into riding breeches now, foregoing the tiewig and brushing her hair back into a queue the way Adam did his.
At least thirty-five of the forty stalls held a prime piece of horseflesh. A dozen grooms and stableboys were employed polishing tack, A deep voice greeted her.
“How the hell can you sleep so late?”
Tony whirled about, mildly annoyed at the taunt, for it couldn’t possibly be any later than eight o’clock. Savage stood in old breeches and rolled-up shirtsleeves. He held a shovel in his hands and was obviously cleaning out the stalls.
“Surely you have enough stableboys for that,” she pointed out. Tony definitely did not like the zealous light that shone from Savage’s eyes. She wanted to retreat with all speed, but her boots felt rooted in the straw.
With an amused grin that he made no effort to conceal, Savage said, “If there is one thing I’ve discovered that builds muscle along with character, it’s shoveling shit.” He tossed over a spade. “You could use a bit more of both, Tony.”
Her first impulse was to throw a shovelful in his arrogant face, but then, of course, Savage would have an excuse to rub her face in it. As if he read Tony’s thoughts, Adam said, “They do say it’s good for growing whiskers.”
Tony had more pride than to refuse the task and she ground her teeth because Savage knew exactly that, curse him, curse him. She picked up the shovel and nonchalantly began to scoop manure. She even whistled a merry tune between her teeth to take all his joy out of plaguing her. In actual fact he’d already done three parts of the work. “You’ve only left me nine stalls,” she cheerfully called to him as he went outside for some fresh straw.
“Nine!” she said, groaning and gritting her teeth when he disappeared. It felt like hours later when she heard booted feet behind her. She’d actually managed to muck out half a dozen and was just about at the limit of her strength. She straightened her aching back and turned. An amused sneer on the face of Bernard Lamb almost stunned her.
“What the devil are you doing here?” Tony demanded.
“Your exact words at Richmond, I recall, dear coz,” Bernard drawled. “You are becoming a damned bore.”
Tony suddenly found plenty of strength to scoop up a shovelful of horse shit.
“Tony!” A deep command poised the muck in midair. “Mr. Lamb is an invited guest. I suggest you get cleaned up.”
Tony’s lip curled. “I doubt if even your exalted bathing room will remove the stench from my nostrils!”
Chapter 22
Tony bathed and changed, but even though guests would be coming and going all day, she wore riding breeches and jacket. There was no way she was going to be bludgeoned into formal attire before the sun went down. Her one concession was a powdered tiewig.
