12. Chapter 12
S unshine warmed my face and shoulders as I stood next to Ames outside Pickering Castle a week after our talk in the music room.
Brant, Collins, Davis, and Everett stood on the other side of Ames, while the staff were lined up not far away, their impeccable uniforms without so much as a speck or wrinkle.
We were now at full capacity for servants, and with the arrival of our house guests, each one would be needed.
Pickering Castle was far from perfect, and there would be much more work needed for years to come, but the necessary restoration and renovation projects had been completed in record time.
All the guest rooms had been updated, new linens purchased or made, and fresh draperies put at the windows.
Any rug that had looked worn and dated was given to local charities and new ones brought in.
Cracks in the plaster on the walls and ceilings had been filled, and everything repainted, wood floors had been sanded and revarnished, and broken windows had been replaced.
And every square inch of the castle had been scrubbed clean, so there were no cobwebs or dust in sight.
Mrs. Moore and Stephens ran a tight ship, and Mrs. Pontipee made sure everyone was fed three square meals a day to keep up their energy.
The castle, grounds, and staff were as ready as they could be, given the time constraint.
The Welby brothers were another matter.
Ames stood straight and stoic next to me.
He looked handsome in his frockcoat and trousers, though I knew he longed to be wearing his work clothes and toiling with the tenant farmers.
He had not made a fuss about the house party since the night of the country dance and our time together in the music room.
That conversation had opened a whole new world to us—both physically and emotionally.
Instead of retiring to our separate rooms, Ames fell asleep in mine each night and only used his bedchamber for dressing.
He glanced at me now, and though he didn’t smile, I saw the softening around his eyes.
Ames was impeccable. His brothers, on the other hand, were not.
Collins still wore the sling the doctor had fashioned for him, but the pain had started to ease, and he was moving about with less caution.
Dr. Aiken had removed the stitches on Davis’s cheek, but the scar was still puckered and red.
It would fade over time—but we didn’t have time.
The carriages were turning into the castle yard now.
Davis’s hands were empty, but Everrett had told me that Mr. Holderness had sewn hidden pockets inside Davis’s frock coats so he could always keep a book on him, in case he had a moment to read.
Brant’s nose had returned to its normal size, but the bruises under his eyes were still dark, the edges of them just turning yellow. His charming, affable personality had cooled over the last week, and he’d been moody and sullen.
Everett’s eye was no longer swollen, but his bruise was bigger and more pronounced than Brant’s. Contrary to Brant, Everett seemed happier and more energetic since the fight in Aunt Eliza’s ballroom, commenting that he would become a pugilist if given the chance.
I still wasn’t sure what I would say to our guests, but I’d decided that honesty would be the best policy.
While I surveyed the Welby men, I caught Brant and Molly sharing a quiet look. I hadn’t heard any whispering in the passageways all week, but if I understood anything about love and attraction, it would be hard to keep them apart despite what Ames and I had told them.
Perhaps our house guests would help distract Brant.
After the carriages came to a stop, two footmen opened the doors, and our guests began to exit the vehicles.
The first to alight was Mrs. Harrington, Ruth’s mother.
She, like her daughter, had curly red hair, though Mrs. Harrington’s had started to gray at the temples.
She was not a beauty, but she was wealthy and her clothing and accessories were the height of fashion, giving her an air of sophistication that made her attractive.
Just behind her was my dear friend Ruth.
Her ringlets refused to stay bound and played about her face in a charming way.
She grinned when she saw me, waving her hand energetically. “Hello, Lily!”
“It’s Her Grace,” Mrs. Harrington corrected. “At least in public, in front of the staff.”
Ruth’s cheeks turned crimson.
But before she could be embarrassed, I stepped forward and took her hand. “We will not be so formal during the house party,” I assured her. “Lily is fine.”
Relief made Ruth’s shoulders sag.
But Mrs. Harrington refused to give in to my request and offered me a curtsey.
“Your Grace,” she emphasized as she tapped Ruth with her closed fan, so Ruth would also curtsey.
“I was honored to receive your invitation.” She rose and lifted her eyebrows toward Ames, as if waiting for an introduction.
“Welcome to Pickering Castle,” I said, noting that she tried to hide her southern American accent. “I’ll wait to introduce everyone at once, if you don’t mind.”
Mrs. Harrington pressed her lips together and stepped back.
The next person out of the carriage was Martha Townsend, who had come with her older, unmarried sister, Beth.
I’d heard rumors that Beth had wanted to join the convent, and had no interest in marriage, but that her parents had refused to let her.
She was just as pretty as Martha, both with straight, silky brown hair, but Beth wore hers in a tight chignon and had no adornments on her plain gown.
Martha, on the other hand, was dressed in a lovely traveling gown of dark green, her cheeks pink from excitement as she greeted me.
“How lovely to see you both again,” I told them, though I hardly knew Beth. “I am eager that you enjoy yourself.”
“I’m sure we will,” Martha said, her manners so deeply imbedded in her that when she glanced at the Welby brothers and saw their injuries, her shocked expression was quickly cleared from her face. “You’ve all been so kind to invite us.”
Our four other guests were in the second carriage, and another carriage behind them was filled with the lady’s maids that they had brought.
Sarah Danby had come with her mother, Mrs. Ellsworth Danby, the woman who had responded to my first invitation with a lack of interest—until she’d learned that Brant would become an earl.
Sarah was the loveliest of the four young women.
Her blond hair and brown eyes had caught all the Welby brothers’ attention at our wedding breakfast, and I suspected they would now, too.
She was an accomplished singer and had made a memorable splash throughout fashionable London’s drawing rooms with her performances.
From the start of my plans, I had pictured Sarah and Brant making a good couple.
Her even temper and ease of conversation would be attractive to any man, but especially an earl.
She also came with a hefty dowry, since her father was in the railroad business.
Mrs. Danby was gracious as she greeted me, giving no hint of her first response to my invitation.
Her gaze slipped right over Ames and landed on Brant, who was standing beside him.
In one fell swoop, she seemed to eye him up and find him acceptable—despite his black eyes—if her smile was any indication.
The last to step out of the carriage was sweet, shy Alice Ackerman with her aunt, Mrs. Talmadge, a widow.
Alice was the smallest of the four heiresses, and her hair and eyes were dark brown.
She, like her aunt, was quiet and unassuming.
When Alice’s parents had died of the fever, she and her brother had inherited a steel company, which left Alice very wealthy.
While her brother was busy running the company, he’d sent Alice and their aunt to England to find Alice a husband.
If my suspicions were correct, and Alice and her family weren’t concerned about a title, perhaps a love match could be had.
As I turned from greeting Alice and Mrs. Talmadge, I immediately recognized the look of dismay on Mrs. Harrington and Mrs. Danby’s faces as they finally caught sight of the Welby brothers’ injuries.
Before I would tackle that topic, however, I needed to make introductions, which I did in quick succession.
“I don’t know if my eyes deceive me,” Mrs. Danby said, pursing her lips. “But it appears that there was a brawl .” She let the last word drag out with disgust.
“Ah,” I said quickly, sweat gathering under my collar.
“Yes, unfortunately, there was a bit of a tussle.” I cleared my throat, needing to make the incident appear as heroic as I could without lying.
“My brothers-in-law came to the defense of a young woman who was being harassed by a local man. Unfortunately, the man had friends, and soon they were all part of the fray. Thankfully, the young woman was unharmed, and I believe the local man will not make that mistake again.”
I tried not to look at Molly and see her response.
“Well.” Mrs. Harrington smiled sweetly. “What an honorable and courageous group of brothers-in-law you have here, Your Grace.”
“Just so.” I nodded, ushering the women into the castle, while Mrs. Moore took charge of their lady’s maids. “I believe you’ll enjoy our cook’s refreshments. She’s been working night and day in preparation for your arrival.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as the women started to comment on the striking castle, not mentioning the rumors or the Wailing Duchess, though I suspected it was on their minds.
The hardest part was over.
Or so I hoped.