Chapter Four
Ashlyn marveled at the beauty of the bedchamber.
It was both soothing and inviting, with furnishings in white birch and coordinating fabrics in shades and patterns of blues, whites, and yellows.
Lovely blue-and-white damask wallpaper covered the walls, and coordinating white-and-blue silk curtains covered the windows.
A matching counterpane and canopy in blue damask covered the bed.
A hearth, crafted with white stone, provided a lovely focal point for the room, and two overstuffed chairs, both covered in yellow-and-white damask, sat in front of it.
Compared to the stuffy, stilted furnishings of her room at the hotel, this room made her feel welcome, at home.
“So lovely…” she whispered, appreciating the cheery fire in the white stone hearth and the cozy, comforting armchairs in front of it.
They had arrived scarcely two hours ago, and yet so much had happened.
Alice had come to her room to help her bathe and get ready for bed.
The maid, too, had washed and changed into a gown that one of the manor’s maids had given her.
She had helped Ashlyn bathe and dress in a nightgown that the dowager countess had sent up, along with two day dresses and other clothing for the next few days, in case their own clothing had been ruined in the carriage accident.
The countess had also sent Ashlyn a beautiful note inviting her to breakfast in the morning and said she would send someone to escort her.
Dr. Baker had also stopped by the chamber to examine her. Alice and Mrs. Flinters were in attendance during his visit.
Ashlyn took a deep breath and let it out slowly, something her physician father had taught her when she was a little girl and would wake up in the middle of the night after a bad dream.
She breathed deeply again and lay back in the comfortable bed, thinking back over the day’s events that had brought her to the home of the Earl of Ravensthorpe.
When he’d stepped forward and welcomed her into his home, offered his assistance, and introduced her to his mother…Ashlyn had never felt so grateful, nor so protected, in her life.
She couldn’t recall what she had even said to the earl and his mother.
But what she did remember, what she could not forget, was how spellbound she’d felt when she looked up into his handsome face.
Ashlyn thought him the most handsome man she had ever seen, as though a sculptor had carved those chiseled cheekbones, that strong jaw, and the squared chin with its disarming dimple.
But as he held her gaze while he spoke to her, it was his eyes—stormy gray—that had enthralled her the most. When he spoke, those arresting eyes had never once left her face.
And he was tall and broad shouldered, which made her feel even more drawn to him.
One of the first things she and Elizabeth had discovered upon arriving in England was how much taller they were compared to Englishwomen.
And how much shorter Englishmen tended to be compared to American men.
But the earl was easily several inches over six feet, which had made her heart do several flips.
In that moment when her eyes first met his, she had been grateful for every extra inch of her own height, putting her at his chin.
Recklessly, she’d imagined what it would be like to tilt her head up and be kissed by those full, sensual lips.
Good grief! Where had that come from?
Horrified, she’d realized belatedly how she must have stared at him. She hoped she had not embarrassed herself. Ashlyn had managed to smile and thank the earl before being led to the drawing room by his mother.
The countess, who had been kindness itself, had reassured her that the carriage boy, Billy Crutchins, was being well looked after by Higgins and Mrs. Flinters, and Ashlyn would be able to see him tomorrow.
Dr. Baker, the Ravensthorpe family physician of many years, would make certain the boy’s injuries were tended to.
And she would also send the doctor to check in on Ashlyn and Alice.
Ashlyn had been so grateful that she’d had a hard time keeping her tears at bay. It had been a challenging day indeed.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Flinters had stepped into the drawing room to escort her to the guest room that the countess had asked her to prepare. The countess had called it the “blue room.”
“Miss Vickers, yer room is just down this hall, if ye would kindly follow me,” the short, stout woman with a curly mop of red hair had said when they reached the second-floor landing.
She had smiled, so warmly that Ashlyn had wondered if the kindly housekeeper could read her mind—how bemused she’d been, how she’d had a hundred thoughts swirling around in her head.
“I hope ye will find this room to yer liking,” she had said.
“I’ll have the hot water brought up presently.
Whilst the tub is filled, I’ve set out a bar of honeysuckle-scented soap, fresh towels, and a jug of water for ye to wash yer face and hands.
” She’d indicated the washing table with a mirror above it, next to the hearth.
“I also took the liberty of having tea and a plate of biscuits sent up for ye,” the housekeeper had added, gesturing to the side table next to a comfortable armchair in front of the fireplace.
“Please make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”
Ashlyn had had to suppress a yawn as she was thanking the housekeeper. “Oh dear. I didn’t realize I was so tired,” she had said, feeling the heat of a blush.
“Ye’ve had a most trying day, Miss Vickers; ’tis understandable,” the housekeeper had said.
“I must say, this chair and the cozy fire are certainly calling to me. But I am most grateful to you for arranging my bath. Already this lovely room is restoring my equanimity,” Ashlyn had said, with a faint smile, regretting that she had to leave the soft, comfortable chair.
Mrs. Flinters had chuckled. “Aye. Ye’ll feel better for sure. The countess has an excellent eye for decorating, as ye can see by this room. And a knack for knowing which colors work best together without sacrificing comfort. I am certain ye will have a most restful sleep tonight, Miss Vickers.”
“I’m looking forward to sleeping. Now that I’m standing again, I confess, any hunger I might have entertained has taken a back seat to my fatigue. If the bed is half as comfortable as this chair, you’ll have to peel me out in the morning.”
The older woman’s laugh had been contagious, and Ashlyn had found herself chuckling, too—mostly out of profound relief at having found a comfortable refuge.
“I was informed that ye and yer maid were on the way to a house party in Bath,” the housekeeper had said.
“As soon as yer trunks arrive, and if it’s all right with ye, I will work with yer maid to ensure the water or mud doesn’t leak past the trunk’s seal and damage your clothing in the accident.
After your bath, I’ll send a maid to retrieve the gown yer wearing, and we’ll have it washed and pressed for ye as soon as possible. ”
“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Flinters. I hadn’t even given thought to my clothing possibly being damaged in the accident. Everyone has been most thoughtful and kind,” Ashlyn had said, feeling comforted by the warmth in the woman’s voice.
As Ashlyn and the housekeeper chatted, two maids entered, each carrying two pails of steaming water to pour into the copper tub tucked behind a privacy screen in the corner of the room.
“Aye. The master and the countess are most kind, indeed,” the housekeeper had continued.
“Ye’ll be vera comfortable here, lass. And I am verra glad you found us when ye did, as I don’t think this storm will be goin’ anywhere for at least another day or two,” the housekeeper had added. “Mark my words, lassie.”
After the housekeeper had departed and the maids had finished filling the tub, Ashlyn had waited for Alice to arrive and assist her with her bath.
She had taken the opportunity to wash her hands and face at the washstand.
But one glance in the mirror had made her gasp—she had looked for all the world like the family dog after one of his joyous romps through a mud puddle.
Had her mother—or even Elizabeth—witnessed it, they’d have teased her endlessly.
What must the earl have thought of me gaping at him with all this mud on my face and my hair looking like a bird’s nest?
After her bath, Alice had helped her don the warm nightgown and had wished her a good night, saying she would be back in the morning. Alice had also been given comfortable quarters, sharing a large room with two other maids.
Ashlyn settled back onto the plump pillows of the exceedingly comfortable bed, and her thoughts strayed once more to the handsome earl.
Just thinking of him sent butterflies fluttering around in her stomach.
She couldn’t remember the last time a man’s looks had taken her breath away in such a manner, and more importantly, challenged her.
Meeting such a handsome man under these circumstances had left her out of sorts.
Her first trip abroad had been anything but boring thus far.
Here she was, alone, in a lovely guest chamber of the earl’s elegant country manor—an earl who was clearly a man of consequence.
On top of her anxiety over the accident, her worry for the boy who had driven her, and her unease at being an imposition upon such kindness, she had also been obliged to lie to the earl and his mother, pretending to be Elizabeth.
All the while, her flighty cousin had been gallivanting off to Italy with the mad intention of eloping with an artist she had only just met.
Ashlyn could scarcely have imagined herself in such a predicament, even had she been the authoress of a Gothic novel.
So far, the Season was nothing like she and Elizabeth had envisioned for their trip.
Truthfully, she missed Elizabeth, and the thought of her dear cousin made her heart twist with pain. “I hope things are working out for you, Lizzy,” she whispered, praying with all her heart that Elizabeth was safe.
Yet no matter how Ashlyn tried, she could not approve of her cousin’s reckless schemes.
Elizabeth’s penchant for half-baked plans and scattered shenanigans had never ended in disaster—thank heaven—but they had unfailingly landed the two of them in trouble with their parents.
At least this time, Ashlyn thought with relief, both sets of parents were yet to discover the truth.
This time she needed to worry about her own situation, she told herself, as her eyes grew heavy with the strain of the day.
She would have to continue the deception of being Elizabeth.
Truth be told, she no longer even wished to attend the house party, but she had no choice.
She must see it through, all while pretending to be someone she was not.
Lying came hard to Ashlyn; deceit was not in her nature.
Yet she would have to play the part until Elizabeth’s parents arrived in London.
As her fatigue deepened and her eyes fluttered closed, Ashlyn at last surrendered to sleep. And as she drifted off, her mind conjured the image of dark hair, a dimpled chin, and stormy-gray eyes…