“Hear, hear,” Leo added.
With the two of them determined to brush off the incident and get on with the week’s entertainment, it would be churlish for any of the rest of us to kick up a fuss. One by one, we nodded or shrugged, and our little party climbed the stairs and set out for the carriages.
The accident had delayed us long enough to meet up with the servants outside the station. A few footmen and another man in a suit, probably an upper servant, were directing the loading of our luggage onto a cart. I spotted Rose holding Nanny’s hand and took her into my custody, while George quickly dispersed our party into the two carriages. Leo, Lily, and Rose rode with us, and Mr. Treadwell, Mr. Durant, and Leo’s sisters climbed into the second carriage. The servants would follow us to Risings with our bags.
The drive took less than an hour but was long enough to calm my nerves. George and Leo were fine after all, and while the accident had been quite bizarre, no venture was without its stumbling blocks. I stole a glance at George through the corner of my eye. He appeared unscathed.
“I am fine, Lady Harleigh.” His lips twitched into a smirk. “Stop worrying about me and enjoy the scenery.”
I leaned forward to see we were approaching a bridge that crossed a lake. “Are we close to the estate?”
“We’re on the property now,” he said. “Change seats with me so you can see it from the window.”
“I’d like to see, too,” Rose said, wriggling forward in her seat opposite us.
“Excellent. Step right up to the window, young lady. Your mother and I can easily see over your head.”
George took Rose’s hand to steady her as the three of us exchanged our seats. Lily and Leo, on the opposite seat with their heads together, were oblivious to our activity. “Is that your lake, Mr. Hazelton?” Rose asked.
“Not mine, but it belongs to the estate, yes.”
I absorbed the fact that the Hazeltons owned this lovely lake, and while we crossed at the narrows, I could see it widened to our right and reflected the gold-tinged meadowland surrounding it, as well as an enormous edifice. Pushing my head closer to the window, I let out a gasp as the house came into view. The meadow gave way to a manicured lawn, which in turn gave way to a graveled drive along the front of the house which seemed to stretch on forever in pure grandeur.
The carriage stopped in front of a grand stone stairway leading to a great hall at the center of the house. It was framed by two wings, three stories high, with balconied porches on the second floor leading to what must be state apartments. The house was apparently designed to accommodate royal visits. It was the fantasy of any young girl who ever dreamt of becoming a princess.
As we climbed down from the carriage, Rose stared in awe, reminding me to close my mouth and stop gawking. “My goodness, Mr. Hazelton, your sister has described Risings to me, and indeed I’ve heard of its beauty, but nothing prepared me for its sheer size.”
“Is this your first visit?” George looked surprised. “I’d thought surely you’d been here with Fiona.”
I took his arm as we all headed for the entrance, gravel crunching under our shoes. “The first time I visited your sister, she was already a married woman with a country home of her own.”
“Then you must allow me to give you a tour,” he said as a gray-haired, painfully thin butler bowed us inside.
We entered a great hall, as large as a ballroom, walled with carved oak panels, and topped with windows that reached up to the two-story ceiling where three chandeliers were suspended. The housekeeper, Mrs. Ansel, waited in the entry to take everyone up to their rooms. Once they’d freshened up, tea would be served in the drawing room.
George held my arm when I would have joined the group heading up the stairs and sent Mrs. Ansel on without me. “Lady Nash will be joining us shortly. She wished to greet Lady Harleigh.”
“I am here now.” Fiona’s voice rang through the hall as she entered from a door at the opposite end. Her shoes tapped on the marble floor as she sailed across the room, holding out her hands to take mine. Fiona was one of only a few ladies of my acquaintance taller than I, and as she looked down her narrow nose and into my eyes, I could see true happiness glowing in hers. She was the only person I’d informed of the understanding between George and me, and this was our first meeting since I’d sent that letter, so I could well understand her enthusiasm.
She nearly burst with joy, bouncing on the balls of her feet until her chestnut coiffure threatened to come tumbling around her shoulders. Once Nanny arrived to take Rose to her room up in the nursery, and only the three of us remained in the hall, she caught my hands in hers.
“Frances, I cannot properly convey my delight that you and George are to be married.” She gave my hands one final squeeze and released me in favor of her brother, declaring he had made her the happiest of sisters.
“Your happiness was uppermost in our minds, Fi,” George replied, earning him a poke in the chest.
“Now, I suppose I should leave the two of you alone. I know George plans to keep you to himself and show you the house.” She kissed the air near my cheek. “Welcome to Risings, Frances. I planned a meeting with the vicar this afternoon, so come find me when you are through with George.”
With that, she was off and George and I were finally alone.
“I missed you,” he said.Taking my hand he lead me across the hall and through ornate double doors to the drawing room.
“I saw you just yesterday,” I said, though I was thrilled to hear I’d been missed.
“That’s one day too long.” As he whispered the words his breath tickled my ear and his arm encircled my waist.
I turned around within the enclosure of his arms. “Well, I’m here now.”
“There you are!”
George and I leaped apart as Lottie Evingdon came bounding into the room like a puppy, her flailing arms disturbing an arrangement of framed photographs on a nearby table. Though several of them wobbled, none hit the floor. For Lottie, I’d count that as a triumphant entrance.
She took my hands and spread them wide as if looking me over. There was likely no more change in me over the last two months than I saw in her. Her dark ginger hair still refused to stay where her maid pinned it, a smudge of ink marred one creamy cheek, and a shawl had fallen from her shoulders and now lay on the floor. “I was so excited to hear you were all to join us. This is the first I’ve seen of you since my wedding.”
Lottie Evingdon, formerly Deaver, was a friend of Lily’s from New York. She’d come to stay with us last summer and met my cousin, and George’s friend, Charles Evingdon. They fell in love while we were all trying to prove him innocent of murder. Perhaps the fact that I’d allowed her near an accused murderer means I’m not the best of chaperones, but given the fact that they married, it all worked out in the end.
Except she’d just interrupted what might have been a tender moment between George and me. I supposed I’d better get used to it. This was a house party, so it was likely to happen more often than not.
We chatted for a moment and I sent her off to find Lily. Once she departed, I turned to George. “Is there perhaps a more secluded part of the house you could show me?”
“An excellent idea.” With a smile, he took my arm and led me out of the drawing room and into a gallery that ran behind the great hall and connected the two wings. He drew me outside to a formal garden in the courtyard at the back of the house.
“There’s something I want to show you,” he said, pausing in the middle of the courtyard between a fountain and a tall spray of asters.