Whitney giggled then covered her mouth, her eyes wide with disbelief at Aunt Harriet’s loud announcement. She was still surprised by Aunt Harriet’s ways, but soon, she’d grow accustom to them. I shrugged and nodded my head for her to take the footman’s hand.
All amusement was gone when she was outside and standing before the home. This was why I had come to London. I hadn’t dared hoped for something quite like this but I had wanted to give Whitney the life she dreamed of.
As I stepped down from the carriage, my eyes met Lord Ashington’s and I smiled. It was genuine. He had given me a gift, just by making my sister and aunt so happy. Even if nothing more came from our time together, I would forever be grateful for this invitation. His life was one that we knew little about. Aunt Harriet and Uncle Alfred danced along the hem of this lifestyle. They were wealthy in the eyes of the ton, but this kind of wealth went far beyond what one could make. It was history. It was part of who Lord Ashington was.
“I trust your carriage was adequate,” he said, closing the space between us and offering me his arm.
“Yes, it was more than adequate. We were ever so comfortable. Thank you,” I replied.
“Very good. Would you like to be shown to your room so you may rest?” he asked as we made our way toward the entrance.
I thought of Uncle Alfred and Lord Ashington being stuck with him for several more hours. He was sure to have many questions about the grounds. “If it’s not too much trouble, I thought perhaps you might show me around. A walk outside after so much sitting would be lovely.”
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth and I wasn’t sure if it was in relief that he was free of Uncle Alfred or that he liked the idea of a walk. Whatever the case, it was the right thing to say. “Of course,” he replied.
I wanted to ask if Whitney could come too, but I didn’t. After such a long time in the carriage, she would need to stretch out her leg and rest for a while. It always cramped up and bothered her after travel.
When we stepped inside Chatwick Hall, I decided Aunt Harriet was wrong. Surely even Buckingham Palace wasn’t as majestic as this. I stopped and took in the stately entrance, marble floors, priceless works of art, and domed ceiling.
“Welcome to Chatwick Hall,” Lord Ashington said as we all stood in wonder. Even Uncle Alfred seemed at a loss for words.
What it must have been like to grow up here. How often did one get lost? I noticed then several maids were waiting quietly beside the staircase. There were three younger girls and one older woman who appeared to be the one in charge. I smiled at them and then wondered if they got lost in this home.
“After a long day of travel, I am sure you could all use a rest and time to freshen up. Agnes,” he waved toward the older lady who stepped forward, “will make sure everyone finds their room and your things are put away. If you should need anything, just ask.”
Aunt Harriet thanked Lord Ashington again and went toward Agnes, clearly ready to find a room and get some rest. Whitney followed her and I noticed her limp was slightly worse from the stress of travel. She would never ask for help or mention her discomfort. My leaving her so soon after our arrival would be difficult. She may need some help.
“What can I do to help?” Lord Ashington asked in a low voice beside me.
Startled, I hadn’t realized he was so close, and I turned to see him watching Whitney as she walked slowly behind Aunt Harriet. His consideration was thoughtful. I wasn’t sure others would pay much mind to my sister’s condition.
“If she could be shown her room so that she may rest and elevate her leg. It helps after travel.”
He nodded and motioned for someone I didn’t see, then suddenly a man appeared at his side. He was older than Lord Ashington. His hair was silver and although it was clear he worked here, he still seemed rather refined. I heard him give the man the directions I had just requested for Whitney and the man was gone.
“Neil will make sure it is all taken care of. Agnes will know of Whitney’s needs and she will be in the best care.”
“Thank you,” I said, wishing I could convey how I felt in words. It was more than simple thanks. It was relief. Whitney had always been my biggest concern. “She is so excited about being here. This is something I could have never given her. The travel is never easy on her, but she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to visit a place such as Chatwick Hall. I am truly grateful, Lord Ashington,” I said the words with the emotion I felt, hoping it was enough. Although words rarely were.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you? Truly grateful?”
I was confused and taken off balance for a moment as I nodded slowly then said, “Yes, of course. How could I not be?”
“Then for this weekend, could you try addressing me as simply Ashington?”
I stood there staring up at him, unsure I was hearing him correctly. That was so informal and familiar. How was I to do such a thing? We didn’t know each other well enough for me to address him by his given name.
“It’s simple. Just Ashington. Lord Ashington was my father, and although I have adjusted to the name the past few years, I am still struggling. Hugh is my given name, but it was also the name my father called me. I do not have fond memories attached to it.”
When he put it like that it made it very hard to argue.
“Very well but if I am to address you as… Ashington, then you must call me Miriam,” I replied, wanting to level the field.
He grinned then. Almost wickedly. “I had intended to.”
Maybe I should have been taken aback by his forwardness, but I wasn’t. I laughed. Perhaps that wasn’t proper, but then I was not always the proper English miss. It was something he must know before it was too late.
“Your lady’s maid is here to see you to your room. I will await your company in the parlor. Please take your time, Miriam,” he replied, still grinning as if he had a secret.
“Thank you, Ashington,” I replied, before turning to walk toward the young brunette who was smiling shyly at me. I heard Lord Ashington chuckle behind me and my smile grew even brighter.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Earl of Ashington
While I was prepared to wait for quite a while, Miriam surprised me by returning in under an hour. Glancing up from the book in my hand, I was struck by her sheer beauty. Were ladies not meant to spend hours preparing to look as lovely as she so effortlessly appeared?
Closing the book in my hand, I placed it on the table beside me then stood up. “If you had needed to take more time, I would have understood,” I said, hoping she hadn’t rushed to return to me. Although, then again, the idea was appealing if done so for the correct reasons.
“Whitney is resting now and I need nothing more than to stretch my legs and explore,” she replied with a soft smile on her lips.
“Then I am a very fortunate man.” My words caused a slight blush to appear on her cheeks.
She said nothing more as we made our way out of the room and down the long hallway toward the entrance. Having her alone excited me. There was no one around for either of us to perform for their benefit and I would truly get to see Miriam Bathurst, or at least some of the real person beneath the protective layers she so firmly kept in place.
The late afternoon sun shone brightly in June and I inhaled deeply of the fresh air as we walked down the stairs toward the grounds.