The coach pulled up on the raked gravel in front of the south-facing exterior of the house. A pair of tall, fair-haired footman appeared. Assisted out of the coach, Nellie paused in appreciation of the facade, the Grecian pediment and towering Doric columns.
At the door, the butler informed them that the duke was not home. “His Grace left his apologies,” he said. “He has been called away to see to a matter concerning one of his tenant farmers.” A footman in livery led them through the marble hall. “The duchess has been told you have arrived. At present, she is visiting the Dower house.”
Dismayed, Nellie wondered why the duchess was not here to welcome them. She followed her parents up the curved staircase where enormous, gilt-framed paintings lined the walls. She would have liked to inspect them but hastened after the footman and her parents. A maid showed her into the bedchamber next door to her parents.
Nellie removed her hat and peeled off her gloves. She was tidying her hair when her trunk was brought in, and shortly afterward, Lilly entered with Peter on his leash. The maid released the dog, and Peter rushed over, tail wagging, to jump up at Nellie.
“Shall I unpack for you, my lady?” Lilly asked.
“No. Only my blue sarsnet with the beige spencer.” Nellie gathered up her dog. “My goodness, Peter,” she said as he licked her face. “Has it been so long since you last saw me?” Her mother had refused to allow the dog to travel with them in the coach.
As her maid busied herself, Nellie kneeled on the window seat and gazed out. Below her, gardeners slipped discreetly amongst the formal gardens, and beyond the garden wall, a wide meadow carpeted with a host of daffodils sloped down to a lake. She clutched the windowsill. This would soon be her home. Unable to contain her excitement, she turned to her maid. “Take out my Italian straw, Lilly. I’ll go for a walk. Leave the rest of the unpacking. Go down to the servants’ hall and have your tea. I shan’t need you again until five o’clock.”
“Very well, my lady.”
“Introduce yourself to the servants,” Nellie said with a smile.
Lilly’s blue eyes twinkled. “Oh, my lady. The footmen are probably so uppity they won’t even speak to me.”
“Once you come here to live, that will change. A duchess’s personal maid demands respect. Don’t take any nonsense.”
“I met a gentleman coming up the servants’ stairs. He had such a nice smile. He fussed over Peter. Said he’s the duke’s valet. From County Cork. Been with His Grace for several years, but he misses Ireland.”
“All that in passing?” A stab of warning gave Nellie pause. Her mother had questioned the wisdom of keeping Lilly on.
“You will require a more experienced lady’s maid. Lilly is a young girl from the country. She will either leave or take liberties.”
“We will learn together,” she’d replied.
Mama had sighed. “Lilly is likely to do something inappropriate and embarrass you. You never listen to advice, Nellie. I believe you will come to regret it.”
Outside, the breeze was fresh on Nellie’s face as she led Peter along the path. It was a stately walk as he frequently stopped to sniff the tangy smells of plants. The gardens were impeccable, unlike Dountry Park, where her father’s strict economies had been evident before the ball, with the hedges often in need of trimming and weeds left to multiply in the garden beds. Charles’s visit brought great change. More staff hired, and the grounds and the house spruced up. She was gratified that her father now appeared less harassed.
Nellie entered a gate in the stone wall and emerged onto the drive leading to the stables. She was heading in that direction when the thud of hoofbeats came from somewhere behind her. She picked Peter up and swung around just as the horseman came into view, thundering down the drive, scattering gravel.
Charles riding Thor. The horse and rider seemed as one. Nellie, holding her wriggling dog in her arms, caught her breath as he reined in. He wore a dark blue riding coat, his thighs strong and muscular in the leather breeches. When he pulled off his hat, his black hair fell forward onto his forehead. He pushed it back, and his smile welcomed her. “Nellie! How good to see you.” He dismounted and led Thor over to her. “I see you’ve brought Peter.”
“Yes, he frets if I’m away too long.”
“Walk with me to the stables. Did you have a good journey?”
“We did, thank you. I have been admiring your beautiful estate.”
He chuckled. “I am pleased you approve, as it will soon be your home.”
“My father will be impressed by how quickly you’ve settled Thor down.” Charles had worked miracles with the fractious animal. She was sure she could not beat him now on any horse he offered her.
“Yes, but he still has his moments. Wishes to hang on to some level of independence, don’t you, fellow?”
Nellie’s attention was caught by his big hand in the leather glove as it stroked and patted the horse’s glossy black neck. His actions were gentle but firm.
They entered the stable block, which was a hive of activity. Grooms and stable boys curried horses, polished saddles, and swept the cobbles. “I have a mare in mind for you,” Charles said. “Come and meet her.”
She followed him inside and drew in familiar smells of hay, leather, and horses. They walked along the stalls, the horses watching their progress. “Here she is. Her name is Belle.”
The pretty chestnut had a heart-shaped, white patch on her forehead. She thrust her head against Nellie’s hand and nickered. “I wish I’d brought an apple. My, but she’s a beauty, Charles.”
“She’s frisky and will give you a good ride.”
A groom came to take Thor from Charles and drew him into conversation.
“Excuse me for a moment, Nellie.” Charles
