"Tradition is fine, but progress can also be good. And progress will march on regardless, so we may as well make ourselves part of it." He took her hand again. "Let me show you the rest of the house."
While Rex followed at their heels, Tris led her through the ground-floor rooms, teasing her palm with his thumb all the while so she could hardly pay any attention. She gleaned little more than general impressions, and even those were muddled. The main parlor looked pretty and comfortable, the dining room had a beautiful two-toned parquet floor, and the study—which, oddly enough, was accessed through the dining room—had a heavy, ancient-looking desk. There were also some lovely guest rooms and Tris's uncle's rooms—which Tris seemed reluctant to go into.
"I can see them later," she told him. "Where am I going to sleep?"
For truly, beautiful as the house was, having blanked her mind of worrisome concerns she could think of little else besides sharing one of these rooms with him tonight.
Finally he led her up the massive oak staircase, a feature clearly built to impress. Rex bounded up ahead, his huge body taking the wooden steps with amazing ease. Alexandra skimmed her free hand along the polished wood handrail, the panels beneath composed of boldly carved cannons, muskets, lances, and other trophies of war, all highlighted by sparkling gold leaf.
"Goodness," she asked Tris, "were your ancestors very savage?"
"Not that I'm aware," he said with a laugh as they reached the landing. He rubbed the dog's giant head. "Although I understand this house was used as a base of operations to plot against Cromwell in the Civil War."
The next room looked to be a gallery of sorts. "The round gallery," Tris clarified.
It wasn't really round, but a long oval. It was a room mainly used to access others, sort of a very wide corridor with a hole in the middle of the floor—a large, railed octagonal opening where one could see down to the great hall below. But she didn't take time to look, as she was gaping at the paintings on the walls.
"Corinna is going to die when she sees these," she said.
He brushed a loose strand of hair off her cheek. "Hmm?"
"You know she paints. I cannot believe what you have here." She gestured to the many gilt-framed canvases. "Rembrandt, Van Dyck, Rubens—"
"That one was painted by one of Rubens's students."
"Regardless. She'll sit here and study these for hours. She'll forget to eat."
"Like you at our wedding breakfast?" he asked with a tender smile. "What were you studying, sweetheart?"
You. But she wouldn't say that, even though he'd just melted her heart by calling her sweetheart. "I simply have a ladylike appetite," she informed a staid Dutch woman in one of the paintings.
Laughing, he took her elbow to guide her into a corridor, Rex following close behind.
Peggy was in the next room, already unpacking Alexandra's things. "Enjoying your tour, my lady?"
"Very much." Alexandra blinked at the sumptuous furnishings. Behind a balustrade in the French style, an enormous state bed sat on a raised parquet dais. Hangings of rich turquoise were heavily embroidered with gold thread, and great poufs of matching ostrich feathers crowned the bed's four corner posts. The ceiling was elaborate painted plasterwork, the walls hung with heavy, old tapestries.
"It looks fit for a queen," she breathed.
"Queen Catharine of Braganza, Charles II's wife," Tris confirmed. "It was decorated for her visit."
That was easy to believe. The streaked marble fireplace was adorned with gold crowns. "Is this to be my room?"
"Hell, no," Tris said.
Peggy didn't even hesitate, let alone cease unpacking. "My lord, Mrs. Oliver wanted your new lady to have the best Hawkridge has to offer. The last Lady Hawkridge enjoyed this room very much."
What a saucebox, Alexandra thought, although she supposed that if Peggy were a shy one, she wouldn't have so boldly asked for the position of lady's maid. But although the chamber was gorgeous, she couldn't imagine being comfortable here. Goodness, what if she spilled something on Queen Catharine's antique counterpane? "It's lovely," she said tactfully, "but—"
"Lady Hawkridge will be sharing my rooms," Tris interrupted. "While we dine, please move her things."
Peggy blinked. "But—"
"You may ask two footmen to assist you with the trunks. While you're downstairs, please inform Mrs. Pawley that we'd like a light supper in half an hour." He took Alexandra's hand to draw her from the room.
"That was a bit harsh," she said once they were out of earshot. "I know she defied you, but—"
"I've never liked that one."
"Why have you kept her on, then?"
"She came here as a young girl. What kind of man would I be if I turned her out?" He drew her down the corridor, Rex trotting by his other side. "Are you certain you want her for your maid?"
"Since I've already given her the position, I'll wait and see how we get along. As long as you don't mind."
"Whatever makes you happy," he said, squeezing her hand. "Stay, Rex." As they entered another chamber, he closed the door behind them. "My rooms," he announced. "And yours, too, as soon as Peggy moves you in here."
A huge bed dominated the space—an old-style four-poster hung with dark blue velvet bordered in yellow silk. The walls were hung with blue velvet panels on a yellow background, and, set before the fireplace, two cushioned armchairs were upholstered in blue-and-yellow striped fabric. "It's beautiful," she said. "And much cozier than the Queen's Bedchamber."
"I didn't want you in separate room," he said low, making butterflies flutter in her middle. Then he grinned. "Although I was half tempted to leave you there as revenge for putting me in your Gold Chamber."
"Thank you for resisting." She heard the heavy thumps of Rex padding away down the corridor. "If you don't allow him in here, where does he sleep?"
"Given his size, I'd say anywhere he wants. But a man is entitled to a bit of privacy, don't you think?" He pulled
