3. Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
Mabel woke up as a set of tall gates creaked open to allow Colin’s small car through.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes, straining to see where on earth they were going.
Apart from the gleam of the headlights, the blackness outside was all encompassing, and there were no lights directly ahead to guide their way.
Colin leaned forward over the steering wheel, his gaze intent as he navigated along what looked like a never-ending driveway.
She squeaked as they bumped over something hard and he shot her a glance.
“Cattle grid. Keeps the cows out of the garden.”
“We have those in America, too.”
He grinned at her. “Gardens or cows?”
“Both.”
She braced her hand against the door as he took a sudden left turn away from the faint glimmer of lights ahead and plunged them into darkness again.
“There’s a ha-ha around here somewhere. It’s much more picturesque,” Colin said.
“A what?” Mabel asked.
“Never mind. We’re nearly there.” He sounded quite tense. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the driving conditions, or what awaited them.
“There is a there?”
He stopped the car and turned the engine off.
Mabel heard nothing except the sound of Colin’s footsteps in the gravel as he came around to open her door.
A single light to the car’s left illuminated a red brick wall and a battered blue door with a brass knocker on it.
She got out, stretching her neck, and smelled a sweet perfume and something not so pleasant.
“I love the scent of manure in the morning.” She wrinkled her nose. “The cows obviously worked out how to get around the cattle grid.”
He glanced down at her as he picked up their bags. “That’s the stables. No cows in there.” Using his foot, he kicked open what she assumed was the front door. “Come on up.”
They went inside. She followed him along a narrow corridor and up a steep set of curving stairs. “Stables? Do you live on a farm?”
“There’s one quite close.” He opened another door at the top of the cramped landing. “Here we are.”
Mabel walked into the room ahead of him and stopped dead. “There’s a four-poster bed in here.”
“I know. It was built in situ, so no one knows how to get it out without chopping it up into matchsticks. It’s quite comfortable.” He put their bags down on the rug and put a couple of lamps on. “Bathroom’s through here.”
She followed him into another large room, which held a porcelain sink, a toilet, and a standalone bath that looked big enough for two. One of the walls was filled with elaborately polished wooden doors and drawers.
Colin opened one of the doors and Mabel was surprised to see a huge water heater. “There are hot towels in the airing cupboard, so if you want a bath before you sleep, go ahead.”
“Airing cupboard.”
He turned to her, a concerned expression on his face. “You sound desperately tired.”
“We don’t have airing cupboards in California, because we have to keep our water heaters in safe places on the ground because of the earthquakes.”
“Makes sense.”
Nothing made sense. She was babbling again. She looked up at the high ceiling, which was white and decorated with an elaborate plaster pattern.
“This doesn’t feel like a farmhouse.”
He came over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, his blue gaze steady. “It isn’t a farm. It’s a dower house. I’ll show you around properly in the morning.”
“Okay.” She yawned and covered her mouth. “I’m too tired to argue with you.”
“We were going to have our first argument? Over what?”
“Over…” She stared at him and then yawned again. “The proportions of this room are all wrong.”
“I know.” He cupped her face and gently kissed her before leading her back into the bedroom. “It wasn’t originally built as a bathroom, but a dressing room. I think it was my great grandmother Matilda who had it converted.”
“Okay.”
He helped her out of her hoodie and crouched down to undo her shoes.
When she was in her bra and panties, she went back into the strange bathroom to pee and then brushed her teeth.
She returned to the bedroom and discovered the bed was high enough off the ground that had to climb into it, which made her feel like the princess and the pea…
or was that the princess who had to pee?
She didn’t hear Colin join her as the silence wove its spell and she slept.
Mabel woke up to the sound of a rooster crowing and a beam of light on her face from the partially open drapes.
Colin was still sleeping. Moving carefully out of his arms, she went to the bathroom and got dressed in the same clothes she’d worn the day before.
Not that she wanted to be wearing them after all that traveling, but she didn’t want to wake Colin until she’d done some exploring.
The stairs creaked as she crept down them, her shoes in her hand, and headed for the door they’d used the night before.
Outside was a little cobblestoned courtyard with a high brick wall surrounding it and an arched entrance way.
The awful smell came from the right, so she chose to go left and out under the archway.
Some kind of flowering plant trailed down over the wall, its bright yellow flowers already attracting the bees.
She put on her shoes and turned in a slow circle, considering where to go next. She glanced up at the house she’d just left and saw it was a fairly substantial size and had a slate roof and mellow red and yellow brick walls.
What had Colin called it? A dower house?
She had a vague sense of what that meant from reading historical romances and watching PBS.
Curious enough to google the term, she retrieved her phone from her pocket and then winced when she glanced at the screen.
She’d forgotten to tell her cell phone provider that she was traveling outside the USA.
Would her phone even work? Hard to tell, because apparently there was no reception.
The gravel driveway looped away from her in both directions. There were large trees planted on either side of it and many smaller ones, which looked like replacements. Tucking her cell back in her pocket, she walked on toward a small, grassy rise and came to an abrupt stop.
“Holy shit!” she whispered.
“Mabel!”
She didn’t turn around to face Colin, because her attention was fixed on the fantastic sight in front of her. He stopped beside her, his breathing erratic, and he took her hand.
“What is that?” She pointed accusingly at the massive building nestled in the curve of the hillside.
“That’s Marcham Hall.”
“That’s your house?”
“Good God, no!” He paused. “It’s my father’s house.”
She turned to look at him, and he shrugged. “As I said, I live in the dower house.”
“But—”
“Mabel.” He cupped her face with his hands. “I know this is something of a shock, but, really, it’s just the place I grew up in.”
“I suppose you can’t help it.”
His smile held a definite hint of restraint. “Sometimes I wish I could. Do you think you could bear to come down and meet my family?”
“They all live here?”
“Some of them do. The important ones like my father.” He hesitated. “If we don’t go and see them, they’ll all find an excuse to come up to the dower house and bother us anyway. Better perhaps to catch them all in one fell swoop at the breakfast table.”
“Okay.” She felt a bit like Elizabeth Bennet when she’d first seem Pemberley. It certainly changed her perspective on Colin’s place in the world. She studied his bare chest. “You might want to put on a shirt.”
Colin insisted she shower first, and then he showed her the kitchen, which was large and, fortunately, had coffee.
He called the stove an Aga, and she vaguely remembered seeing one on an interior-design site, but it hadn’t been bright blue like Colin’s.
It gave off a comforting wave of heat that warmed her fragile Californian bones.
Eventually, Colin returned from his shower, his hair still damp, and picked up Mabel’s mug. “Would you like more coffee, or shall we go and meet the family?”
“I’m good on the coffee, and I’m looking forward to meeting your folks.”
She wasn’t, but what else could she say? The romantic interlude she’d imagined with Colin wasn’t going exactly to plan yet, but she wasn’t complaining. She was certainly having an adventure, and he’d explained clearly that he’d have to deal with his family.
They left the dower house together and took the path down to Marcham Hall. It was huge, with about five levels and a dozen windows on each floor.
“How big is this place?”
“Pretty big. From what I understand, each generation of my crazy family felt compelled to add something to the original Tudor house.”
“Tudors like during the fifteen hundreds, right?”
“Correct. When you go into the house, you’ll notice how the central core has much smaller rooms and beamed ceilings and posts from that time. Whereas the rest of it is much later and much grander.”
“Your family have lived here for five hundred years?” Mabel said. “That’s older than America.”
He grinned. “It depends on whether you’re talking about the North American continent, or the United States as a country.
But yeah, give or take a couple of wars, a brush with treason, and some clambering around to find male heirs in the family tree, the Marchams have been here a long time. They are a tenacious bunch.”
“That’s amazing.” She studied the man next to her with new respect. “It’s a pretty impressive history for a house.”
“I suppose it is. It’s hard for me to judge because it’s always just been my home.” He shrugged in a self-deprecating way that seemed very British. “I can tell you one thing. It’s a pain in the arse to heat.”
As they got closer to the Hall, Mabel caught sight of a series of walled gardens and what appeared to be the edge of an ornamental lake. It occurred to her that what she had assumed was the front of the house, was, in fact, just the side.
Holy crap. She stopped walking. “Colin, exactly how many bedrooms does this place have?”
He took her hand and his thumb made comforting circles on her knuckles. “It depends how you count them. There are the family bedrooms, the guest bedrooms, the attics, the master and mistress of the house suites and…” He paused. “What’s wrong?”
“This is crazy.”
“This is why I don’t generally bring people home. It is a bit much, isn’t it?” He took a deep breath. “Please give me a chance.”
She looked into his blue eyes and saw nothing but concern for her in them. “Okay. What were you going to say before I interrupted you? About the bedrooms?”
The dimple appeared in his cheek. “I think I should shut up before I scare you away completely.”
“Tell me.” She mock-frowned at him.
“Well, there are the state apartments,” he said reluctantly.
Mabel attempted to get her head around that. “For when heads of state visit?”
“The last monarch here was Queen Victoria, so you’re quite safe from running into royalty or the current prime minister.” His expression changed. “What’s so funny?”
“This. You.” Mabel waved her hand in the general direction of the house. “It’s just... not what I expected.”
“I’m still the same person,” he said quietly. “This doesn’t change that. My family is just like any other family with their good points and their bad. We don’t have to stay here for the entirety of your visit. Once I’ve settled things with my father, I swear we’ll be free to leave.”
She reclaimed his hand. “Then I guess we’d better go meet them all.”