Grinning at the thought of a hunting lodge surrounded with green foliage festooned with pink blooms, Adele couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “Surely by hunting season the flowers would be done.”
“Och, no. That’s when all the mums are in bloom,” he countered. At least they were orange. “Haven’t been here in the autumn for several years, so I’m not sure what colors the castle gardens feature. But the moat in the back attracts the geese.”
“The moat is filled then?”
Milton frowned before he dared a glance out the coach window. They were already outside the main entrance. “The one in the front is usually dry, but the one in the back stays filled,” he explained.
“Two moats?” Adele replied, not familiar with a castle that could claim both kinds.
“There’s a wall of earth that separates the two on either side,” he explained. “It’s rare, true, but it means we can swim in the summer and go sledding in the winter.”
Adele frowned. “However do you get back up after you’ve ridden a sled down into the moat?” From her vantage, the sides of the dry moat seemed almost vertical.
“The ends of the dry moat aren’t so steep, and a footman would tie a rope around a post so we’d have something to hang onto as we made our way up,” her husband explained. “You’ve not lived until you’ve tried sledding in the moat.” He suddenly sobered, a memory causing him to blink. “Do you remember the first time your brother and I took you sledding in Kent?”
Adele furrowed a brow, but the memory of the sunny winter afternoon she had tagged along behind William as he and Milton had made their way to the top of a hill came back to her in a flash. The two had brought along wooden sleds on which metal runners had been attached. Riding the sleds on their fronts, heads lifted up, the two boys had sailed down the snow-slick hill and laughed as they came to a halt.
Trudging back up to the top of the hill, they found Adele wearing an expression of fear—she couldn’t have been more than six or seven at the time—and yet she bravely sat down on William’s sled. The boys gave her a good push to her back, which had her screaming at the top of her lungs as she descended the steep incline. Once the sled came to a rest, she didn’t get up from the sled, but from the way her shoulders shook, it must have looked as if she were crying. A moment later, Milton hurried down the hill on his sled to join her.
“I was sure you were crying. I don’t think I’ve ever sledded so fast to get down that hill,” Milton murmured. “I felt terribly guilty. And then I reached you, I heard you giggling.”
Adele allowed a grin. “I remember I was frightened, but it was a thrilling ride. I think I was giggling because I had gone farther than either one of you,” she recalled in a quiet voice.
“I loved the sound of your giggle.” Milton sighed. “I might have fallen in love with you then.”
Her eyes widening in disbelief, Adele nearly snorted. “What were you then? Twelve?”
Milton swallowed, the reminder of their age difference a sobering thought. “More like fourteen,” he replied. He suddenly brightened. “I think I would be up for a slide down the moat. Just have to find a sled. There must be one around here somewhere.”
Wondering if the earl was daring her to do such a thing, Adele merely shook her head. “I do believe I shall find my excitement between the pages of a book,” she murmured. “But I do appreciate the reminder that I once did such a thing.”
And giggled about it. Could he really have had feelings for me back then?
The coach came to a halt on the cobbles outside the front doors, the shadows long as the driver opened the door and stepped aside. Adele allowed him to assist her down as she struggled to regain the use of her legs. Right behind her, Milton gave the lodge a quick glance. A bit stunned that no one appeared to greet them, the earl allowed a sigh of relief when one of the large front doors opened and a butler appeared and bowed.
“Ah, Trasker. I feared there might be a problem,” Milton said as he hurried to join the servant.
The butler straightened at the suggestion he might not be on duty. “Welcome, Lord Torrington. Your rooms have been readied. A footman will be seeing to your trunks right away.” He dared a glance beyond the coach, suddenly frowning.
“The servants’ coach should arrive the day after tomorrow,” Milton said sotto voce, one eyebrow rising in an attempt to make the butler understand he wasn’t to say anything more about it. Adele was only a few feet away, and he didn’t want her knowing about the planned delay until he had to tell her.
Probably when he would be forced to help her dress for dinner.
Trasker nodded his understanding. “Very good, my lord. Cook has dinner in hand for this evening. Does eight o’clock still suit?”
“Indeed. Anything I need to know before I introduce my countess to the staff?”
Angling his head to one side, the butler finally shook it. “Mr. Banks was quite clear on the matter in his last letter. They are ready for review.”
Milton allowed a sigh of relief. He should have known that in lining up the accommodations for their trip, Banks would contact Trasker to let him know about their impending visit.
A flurry of activity seemed to occur just beyond the large doors before the butler raised his head a fraction.
Milton placed one of Adele’s hands on his arm and gave her a wink. “Prepare to meet the staff of Torrington Park,” he said with a good deal of pride. “This is Trasker. He’s been the butler here for at least twenty years.”
Trasker afforded the countess a deep bow before he opened the door. “Good afternoon, my lady.” Once inside, he stepped aside to reveal a line of eight servants, all facing the same direction and apparently dressed in livery. Apparently, because not all of their clothing matched. In fact, only three maids wore the same black gowns with white aprons. The two footmen, one very tall and the other quite short, both wore dark breeches and black waistcoats over shirts, but neither seemed to match. The housekeeper wore a simple day gown of blue muslin, and the last servant, apparently the cook, wore a clean apron over a brown muslin gown.
Milton thought perhaps a few were missing from the line-up. Like several more kitchen maids, a few footmen, and a groom or two.
“Lady Torrington, may I introduce you to your staff?”
Adele glanced over at Trasker and back at the line of servants. “Is this all of them?” she asked in a quiet voice, her query meant only for the butler.
Trasker dipped his head a bit. “There are others, but the grooms are seeing to the horses and coach, two footmen are seeing to your trunks, and the kitchen maids are... preparing dinner, I believe.”
Adele allowed a sigh of relief. “Then proceed, Mr. Trasker.”
Over the next few minutes, Adele stepped before each servant and learned their name and responsibility. Each one afforded her a bow or a curtsy and seemed ever so nervous as they did so. Goodness! What had Banks written in his letter? Milton wondered when they finally finished the introductions.
A maid stepped forward and gave another curtsy. When Adele acknowledged her—she remembered her as the first floor housemaid—she said, “I can see you to the mistress suite, milady.”
“I was hoping for a tour of Torrington Park,” Adele replied, giving her husband a beseeching look.
Milton blinked, realizing he had misjudged what might happen when they arrived. He was sure Adele would want to see her bedchamber. “I’ll show the countess around and then escort her to her room,” he said as he gave the maid a nod. He almost felt sorry for how the maid’s face fell, as if she had been practicing what to do and thought she had lost her chance to win over the countess.
“Of course, my lord,” the maid replied with a curtsy. She stepped back into line.
“You’ll find I’m not one to order servants about,” Adele stated suddenly. “You all know your responsibilities, and my presence here shouldn’t change how you go about your duties.” She turned to Milton and gave him a nod.
The earl
felt as if he were being dismissed, even though he knew he still had to give her a tour of the lodge. “You’re excused,” he said to the line-up of servants. They all gave bows and curtsies and hurried off through the same door at the back of the great hall.
Given it was her first opportunity to study the large hall in which she stood, Adele suddenly gave a start as she glanced up. Animal heads were mounted above and around the entire circumference of the plank-floored room. A rather large stone fireplace opposite the door held a fire, but its size dwarfed the bit of flame that hissed and crackled in its opening. An ancient trestle flanked by benches was the only furnishing, although it looked as if at least sixteen people could be comfortably seated there.
“Please tell me—”
“It’s the only room like it in the entire lodge,” Milton stated, patting the hand that was still resting on his arm.
Adele let out a quick breath. “Thank the gods.” She deliberately avoided looking at any of the heads she was sure were staring at her as Milton quickly led her to an arched opening opposite from where the servants had disappeared. Next to it was a set of wide stairs.
“This is the east hall,” he said as they made their way down the long hall adjacent to the stairs. Only a few doors interrupted the stone hallway. “I expect you’ll be spending a good deal of time in here,” he said as he opened the arched wooden door into the library. Although the fire wasn’t lit in this room, it was surprisingly warm. Several upholstered chairs were arranged around the single fireplace, and a low table was positioned in front of a settee. “My mum used to like to take tea in here,” he added, a pang in his chest suddenly taking his breath away.
“It’s rather cozy,” Adele said as she admired the wall of books and the room’s only window. It looked out on what appeared to be a courtyard.
“In the summer, there’s a garden out there,” Milton said in a quiet voice. “But I haven’t seen it in years.”
Adele wondered at the remark. “When was the last time you were at Torrington Park in the summer?”
Milton blinked. Had it truly been before his mother had died? “Ten years, at least,” he murmured.
Stunned at this bit of news, Adele sighed. “We shall have to pay a visit when it isn’t snowing,” she whispered.
Turning toward her, a look of surprise on his face, her husband said, “You would be willing to make this trip again?”
Frowning at the implication she hadn’t enjoyed the trip in the snow, Adele leaned in and kissed her husband on his cheek. “Why ever not?” she replied with an arched eyebrow.
Milton allowed a sigh of relief. Would she feel the same when she discovered the upper servants wouldn’t be joining them for another two days? He almost regretted ordering the driver to see to it they were stranded in Darlington for two days.
Almost.
He had to hope Banks was keeping Simpkins occupied.
In more ways than one.
“Because it’s a long way, and although the staff will see to our comfort, it’s not London,” he replied with a shake of his head.
Adele allowed a smile. “Which is exactly why I agreed to make the trip.”
Her husband closed his eyes and said a prayer of thanks. “I’ve a mind to make love to you this very minute,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
Glancing about the library, Adele wondered just where they might do such a thing.
“I wasn’t thinking in here,” Milton added with a shake of his head. “The bed in the master bedchamber is rather large,” he offered.
“Then why did you bring me here?” she countered, a grin defying her words.
Milton blinked. “You minx,” he accused. He had her out of the library and climbing the nearest stone stairs before she could form a reply. But just as they reached the door to his bedchamber on the first floor, the rather tall footman appeared with a trunk and asked where it should go.
Adele’s eyes widened when she realized she had no other clothes but the carriage gowns that could be found in the trunk the footman carried. All her other trunks were on the servant’s coach. “The mistress suite,” she replied. “The valises from inside the coach can be taken there as well,” she added. She was about to ask her husband if he had dinner clothes in the event the servants’ coach didn’t arrive there in time to change for dinner, but he was already leading her into the giant master suite.
A moment later, clothes were forgotten as the earl had his countess stripped and giggling on his bed.
He loved the sound of her giggle.
Chapter 9
A Bath at the Inn
Meanwhile, back in Darlington
Pulling back the counterpane and bed linens, Alice felt a bit of relief in noting how the linens had been changed since the last occupants had taken their leave. There wasn’t any sign of vermin, either, which meant Mr. Banks had done some research prior to this trip. Tonight’s stay at this particular inn was entirely unexpected, and yet he had known where to have Haversham take them for accommodations.
Perhaps he had intended they stay at The Black Swan if rooms weren’t available at The George. Given how clean the other four coaching inns had been, Banks was proving as fastidious in his arrangements for this trip as he did when he performed his duties at Worthington House.
Daring a glance at the dying fire, Alice wondered if she should wear a mob cap and then thought better of it. Her hair, well past shoulder-length, was nearly dry, and although she had given some thought to braiding it, she instead left it loose. Except for one stubborn lock in the very front, her hair seemed to curl under at the end of each strand. If she cut the front the way she’d seen it done in one of her mistress’ issues of La Belle Assemblie, she would look positively modern.
What I am thinking? she chastised herself. The only reason she thought to leave her hair unbraided was so that she could appear younger. More attractive.
Never in here life had she considered such a thing. She’d never worn cosmetics, or used henna to redden her dark tresses, or styled her hair in anything other than a severe bun atop her head.
Well, it was time for a change, she decided. Spending entire days in Alonyius Banks’ company was obviously having an effect on her, but she hadn’t yet decided if it was a good effect.
Especially since she had agreed to share her room with him.
He had gone down to the taproom, apparently to allow her time to get ready for bed and into it. She supposed she should be glad he wasn’t in the room when she had to doff the bath linens and pull on her night rail. It was bad enough he had seen so much of her whilst she took a bath!
The memory of how his hands had held her head, of how he had taken such care in washing and rinsing her hair, prompted a frisson that seemed to pass through her entire body.
How had that even happened? she wondered, quite sure she hadn’t lingered too long in the bath. But with the copper tub—a copper tub!—set so close to the fire, it actually rested on the hot bricks. As a result, the water had stayed warm. Was probably still warm, she considered, daring a glance at the tub. At least there had been a few bubbles floating atop the water, although she couldn’t remember if there was enough to hide most of her from the valet’s intent gaze.
How long had he been standing next to the tub before she opened her eyes? Before she sensed she was no longer alone? With the usual sounds of a coaching inn muffled due to the snow outside and the large rug on the room’s wooden floor, she hadn’t heard him come in. He would have had to use his key to gain entry. Had she slept that soundly?
Apparently.
But then, to slowly awaken and find Mr. Banks regarding her with an arched brow—and was that appreciation?—well, at least she hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t even let out a sound of protest, or reacted in a manner that would have flooded the room with bath water, or sent a cascade of water onto his breeches in one particular location.
She had simply returned his gaze, mentally assuring herself that even if her bent knees were on full display,
her rather flat breasts were below the edge of the water.
“I’ll be done in a moment if you’d like to use the tub,” she said, her voice surprisingly calm. “I was just about to wash my hair.”
Banks crossed his arms and angled his head to one side. “I rather imagine the water has cooled a bit too much for my liking,” he countered, almost as if he were scolding her. He probably thought she had been sound asleep.
Perhaps I was.
Alice dropped her head back and gave it a quick shake. “Not at all,” she whispered. “The bricks beneath are rather warm.”
She hadn’t intended her words to come out so breathy, or for her mention of washing her hair to be some kind of invitation for him to make his way behind her, pull the room’s only chair from the small writing desk, and actually wash her hair.
But he had.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Alice straightened in the tub and turned a bit. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The mischief in his sky blue eyes was unmistakeable as he dipped a finger into the water, just behind her back. With just the slight movement of his finger in the water, Alice thought the temperature had suddenly risen to match that of the waters in Bath.
Rather surprised at the warmth of the water, Banks gave an expression of satisfaction. “I’m going to wash your hair. With any luck, the water will still be warm enough for me to take a bath.” He had an odd thought that he should simply climb into the tub with her, but he rather doubted there would be room enough for the both of them, and he didn’t want her to flood the floor should she react as he expected she might.
“Have you done it before?”
Banks blinked as he regarded the maid. “Washed hair? Of course,” he replied with a shrug, glancing about for what she might use to wash her hair. What appeared to be a rather special ball of soap was perched on the bottom of one of the overturned water pails. He reached for it and hefted it in his palm, a slight citrus scent wafting in his direction as he did so. He brought it to his nose and took a sniff, nearly grinning when he realized Alice was watching his every move.
The Christmas of a Countess (The Holidays of the Aristocracy Book 1) Page 8