‘I will leave you to settle in,’ Alaric said as soon as he had handed her precious bag over to his niece and he turned to go back to the inn where he must be staying. Marianne wanted to argue and tell him of course he must stay and she had missed the sight and sound of him for far too long for him to disappear as soon as they got here, but it was not her house and certainly not her place to bid him stay or go.
‘We will see you for dinner then, Lord Stratford,’ Miss Donne said as if they had arranged a timetable between them that Marianne and Juno had no idea about, but might as well go along with.
Marianne decided the lady was even more formidable than she had thought she could be when she chose and had obviously chosen to discuss arrangements for their visit in general and tonight in particular before Marianne and Juno got here.
‘Dinner?’ Juno mused after she bade a hasty farewell to her uncle and shut the door behind him after one last hug to say both of them were delighted to be together again, even if they were not staying under the same roof.
‘A meal I take at a more fashionable hour than most of my neighbours since I got used to dining late with the great and the good during my years of employment as a governess, Juno, my dear. So I suggest we have tea and some of Bet’s excellent scones to stave off the hunger pangs after your journey as soon as you and Mrs Turner have taken off your outer clothing and washed your hands.’
‘Marianne, not Mrs Turner,’ Juno corrected and Miss Donne seemed to weigh that familiarity up and decide that, as Juno was not a schoolgirl now, it would do between a young lady and her companion, but not for her.
‘You must allow an older and more old-fashioned soul like me to keep one or two formalities alive, Juno. I suspect I am several years older than Mrs Turner’s mother and doubt that lady would approve of such informality between us.’
‘I dare say not, but she seemed very stuffy to me and what she does not know about cannot hurt her,’ Juno said and followed Marianne upstairs to the neat and sunny bedchamber she had inherited from Fliss.
Marianne hoped dinner would be more formal than usual and that Miss Donne had invited her friends to eat with such a grand gentleman. That way she would be able to fade into the background and he would hardly notice she was there among so much flutter and curiosity. So she told herself she was disappointed when she came downstairs to find only four covers set out on the dining-room table and they were obviously going to have a quiet evening together where conversation would be unavoidable. There was a feel of cosy intimacy about the room with the fire lit and several branches of fine wax candles waiting to lend a glow to highly polished furniture and immaculate tableware. So there would be no avoiding Alaric’s perceptive gaze with so few people to hide behind.
She was not sure if she was glad or sorry that she had put on the silk-velvet gown Fliss and Miss Donne made for her in the summer now. The beauty of the fine stuff and the way her friends had made it drape elegantly over her slender figure meant it was a delight to wear and it was warmer and more fashionable than any of her muslin or cambric gowns. But it clung to her a little too lovingly whenever she moved. Tonight was going to be difficult enough without adding sensual awareness of her every move to the mixture, but it was too late to change her mind now.
‘Ah, there you are, my dear,’ Miss Donne said as she bustled in to inspect the table and twitch a few items of cutlery this way and that. ‘That is much better,’ she said as if a quarter of an inch here and there had made any difference. ‘Flowers are the final touch we need to make it perfect, I think. Could you see to that while I help Bet with the roast duck, Mrs Turner?’ she requested with a vague gesture at the two fine vases on the pier table before she went out again.
Not relishing handling the beautiful little porcelain vessels or risking making a mark on the highly polished mahogany, Marianne lifted the finely made things very carefully. She dared not trust herself with them in the busy kitchen, but made her way out of the French doors Miss Donne had put in to get to her garden without going through the rest of the house. There was a welcome feeling of peace in the twilit garden, although she was very glad of the fine cashmere shawl Darius and Fliss had presented her with when she left Owlet Manor for her present position. She carefully put the vases down on the one bare deal table in Miss Donne’s neat greenhouse and found the scissors the lady used for flowers easily enough. At least it had not rained for several days now, so her most delicate evening slippers would not get wet and be ruined.
Peering around the garden and trying to recall what was where from earlier in the year,
