“My dear Daniel, poor Lady Covington sought me out, very worried about what was going on in her household. Then her stepdaughter died before I could find out who would be wicked enough to put poison in the food. I cannot now tell her it’s none of my affair and turn my back.”
“I know.” Daniel deflated. “And I like you the better for it. But damn you, Kat, you worry me to distraction.”
“But it is all right if you worry me? You are living in the house of a man who might have paid assassins in his pocket. What happens if he finds you out? I should go on baking bread and saucing roasts without a thought to your fate, should I?”
“I’m used to this sort of thing, and I know how to defend myself. That is the difference.”
“I see. Fine if I fret and stew, but if you are a hair concerned, then I must stop everything and sit in my kitchen until you come to call?”
“Not what I meant . . .”
“I know.” My nervousness made me sharper than usual. “Forgive me—but you drive me to distraction too. When will you give up all this madness?”
Daniel’s mouth flattened. “When I have paid my debts.”
“Have you many of these debts?”
His nod made my nerves tighten. “Errol is not wrong when he tells you I am worse than he ever was. In the past, that is. I have reformed.”
“I understand. More things you refuse to tell me about.”
“More things I can’t tell you. One day, as I keep promising.”
“One day might not come soon enough,” I snapped.
I turned my face from him, my breathing rapid, my tight lacings cutting into my ribs. I usually wore my corset looser than this, much more practical for having a good row with my beau.
Daniel slammed himself back into his seat, highly annoyed with me. In this sorry state, we arrived at Esher, eighteen or so miles, as the train journeyed, from London.
* * *
* * *
Once alighting in Esher, I had to bury my frustration and become Daniel’s—Mr. Lancaster’s—bride-to-be.
A landau waited in front of the station, the top pulled down for the fine weather. Blue sky stretched overhead, dotted by a few puffy clouds. The landau belonged to the duke, Daniel said. He conveyed this information by exclaiming how kind it was for His Grace to send us, mere nobody guests, his personal carriage. Others leaving the station stared at him, which was Daniel’s intent.
We were not the only guests heading for the duke’s country estate. A stream of landaus, coaches, and light phaetons made their way along the road that led from the town and up a drive under a stand of tall trees to the duke’s home.
Having lived and worked in London all my life, I rarely had glimpses of vast estates, except in paintings hanging in the few drawing rooms I entered. I tried to pretend I’d seen plenty of these houses in my frivolous, pampered life, as the landau took us toward the enormous abode.
The wide manor rose three stories, each corner flanked by a four-story tower. A profusion of chimneys dotted the flat main roof, which sported a railed walkway. The towers bore scrolled gables, very much like those I’d seen in pictures of Dutch houses. I hoped I wouldn’t be called upon to compare the architecture of both countries.
The grounds sloped from the house to a river that glittered at the bottom of the hill—the Thames, I surmised. In the distance, on the other side of the river, I could see a large, crenellated, towered structure.
“That’s Hampton Court, darling,” Daniel said as he leapt to the ground and turned to hand me down. “Home of our jolly King Henry. You know, the one who chopped off all his wives’ heads.”
“Oh,” I said in true astonishment. Not about Henry and his wives—we all knew the stories, and I’d sung funny songs about him when I’d been younger—but I’d never seen a true palace aside from the ones in London, which were now more like government offices. This was a proper palace from long ago. My first thought was that Grace would love to see it.
“The view is better from the roof of the duke’s house. I’ve only been up there once, more’s the pity, but perhaps we can sneak upstairs. Come in and meet our host and hostess. They’ve been showering me with constant questions about you. So exhausting.”
The double front door stood open, and people wandered through it. Daniel led me in, leaving James with the coachman.
We entered a massive hall of stone walls lit by many-paned windows. A staircase wrapped around the entire hall from the back of the house to the front, with two wide landings in between. I imagined it took ten minutes to traverse the whole thing to the next floor. Paintings covered the walls, as did weapons of old, lances and swords, that sort of thing. A few suits of armor lurked in shadowy corners, and an upright glass case full of gleaming silver bits reposed beneath the bulk of the staircase.
“It’s Tudor,” Daniel said, waving at the expanse. “Or Stuart. Or . . . something. The duke didn’t inherit it. He bought it lock, stock, and barrel from a nabob who bought it from an earl of very old family who’d run out of money. It’s the new aristocrats who have all the blunt these days. Ah, here’s the duchess.”
Daniel led me out through another set of double doors to a wide terrace, its steps descending to a parklike garden, with plenty of people milling about in it. I liked gardens very much, so I was pleased I’d spend the majority of my visit here.
The Duchess of Daventry was a tiny woman, I’d say in her early seventies. Her face was lined with fine wrinkles, most of them from smiling, which she was doing as hard as she could. She clasped my hands to welcome me.
“So pleased you could come, my dear. I have been plying Mr. Lancaster for details about you, and he has been most cryptic. Very glad to finally meet his mysterious fiancée.”
I fought and lost the habit of a lifetime. I curtsied. I could no more not do it than not swallow a mouthful of food.
“Thank you kindly, Your Grace,” I said, a bit breathlessly.
I was terrified I’d given myself away, but the duchess increased her smile. “Such pretty manners. Quite unlike some of the rude girls of today. I commend you, Mr. Lancaster.”
“You see why I kept her hidden, don’t you, Duchess?” Daniel chortled. “Didn’t want any other lads stealing her away. She is a treasure.” His knowing wink told us he meant me as a person as well as the wealth I’d supposedly bring to our marriage.
“Do enjoy your morning, Mrs. Holtmann,” the duchess said, ignoring Daniel. “We have a fountain walk, and the roses are just blooming. And a tea tent in case you grow faint with hunger. Tell Mr. Lancaster to let you rest there.”
“Thank you.” I couldn’t help curtsying again. I’d been raised to bend my knees to those above me in station, and a duchess was as high as I could find besides the queen or her princess daughters. I’d also learned that a show of humility kept a bad-tempered mistress from striking me.