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Once out of the car, I grab her hand, and we stroll down the driveway toward the main house. “See over there.” I gesture to where the driveway forks left to the thriving garden center built where the original, extensive kitchen gardens used to be and explain that beyond that is a children’s play gym and our small petting zoo, each hugely popular with the locals and their kids. And a destination for tourists during school holidays. One of our tenant farmers provides the sheep, cows, and pigs for the small zoo, and they join our three resident alpacas and four donkeys—all rescues, and a passion of Maryanne’s.
“No goats?” Alessia asks, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
I laugh. “I don’t think so. We could go and check. Maybe we could get some just for you.”
We stop at the small ticket office, which is occupied by someone I don’t recognize. “Good afternoon,” the young man offers.
“Two for the house, please.” It seems easier to buy the tickets rather than explain that I own the house.
The man hands me two tickets, and I tap my card on the card reader.
Alessia smiles. “You have to pay?”
I laugh. “Not usually. I don’t know that young man.”
We amble down the drive toward the great house. Through the trees we can see the shoreline of the first of our two lakes, and among the weeds, I spy two coots and some ducks paddling toward the shore.
“Swans,” Alessia exclaims with delight, spotting our resident pair of mute swans who are gliding majestically across the still waters, their snowy feathers curled like sails.
“Yeah. This pair have been with us for about ten or so years. I think Kit called them Triumph and Herald, though which is which I don’t know.”
“Grand names. They’re beautiful.”
“They are. Kit was obsessed with cars, especially old classics. Hence the names.” I laugh at myself. Alessia won’t have a clue about old British cars. “They mate for life, you know,” I add, turning toward her with a broad grin.
She smiles and lifts her chin, amused but haughty. “I know about swans.”
Of course she does.
“These two raise their new cygnets here each year.”
And one day maybe we will raise our children here too.
The thought surprises and pleases me.
One day.
She squeezes my hand and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing.
At the front of the house is the impressive lawn, which is about a hectare in size. The nearest half is neatly mowed in stripes. It’s surrounded by ancient oaks, elms, beech trees, and the lake. It is a stunning setting, now that I survey it.
“So, anyone can come here?” Alessia asks as she takes in the view from the steps of the main house.
“Yes, as long as they pay. It’s not much if you just want to use the grounds. It’s very popular in the summer. For picnics. Behind the house are the stables. We provide a livery for the locals with horses, and a friend of Caroline’s runs a riding school from there. This is where Maryanne and Caroline keep their horses. Come, I’ll show you inside.”
* * *
Alessia trails after Maxim as he bounces up the stone steps and through the double doors into an impressive reception hall. There are statues in little alcoves and ornate plasterwork over the entire room, even the ceiling. Alessia’s chest constricts as she tries to take in the majesty of a room that is merely the entrance to this huge house.
Behind a reception desk, the younger of two women looks up in greeting.
“Hello there. Are you here for the tour?” she asks.
Maxim laughs, and the older woman raises her head. “Oh my goodness! Maxim!” she exclaims. “I mean, my lord.”
“Hello, Francine. How are you?”
“I’m doing well, my lord.” She bustles around the counter, much to the surprise of her colleague.
“Please, Maxim will do. It’s my name. I’ve said this already when I was last here.”
“I know, my lord, but I’m an old-fashioned woman.” Her affection for Maxim is obvious as she beams at him.
Maxim wraps his arm around Alessia and pulls her close. “Francine, may I present my wife, Alessia.”
“Your wife!” Francine exclaims. “Why, Lady Trevethick, what a pleasure to meet you.”
Alessia holds out her hand, and Francine shakes it vigorously.
“Lady Caroline said you’d married. Congratulations to you both, my lord.”
Caroline. She was here?
“Thank you.”
“I wish you’d told us you were coming—”
Maxim holds up his hand to stop Francine. “We’ll come and do a proper introduction later in the month. I just wanted to give my wife a quick and dirty look around the house. Give her an idea of what she’s taken on.”
Francine laughs, good-natured, her eyes twinkling at Alessia. “I’ve known his lordship since he was a young lad.”
Maxim quickly interrupts her. “You’re new,” he says, turning to the younger woman behind the desk.
“This is the earl. The owner,” Francine hisses at her. “This is Jessica. She’s been with us for about three weeks now.”
