Danyal nodded stiffly, while Darby opened his mouth and didn’t speak. Or move.
“This is my great aunt,” Elise continued, moving to stand before Annalies. “Princess Annalies Benedickta of Saxe-Weiden, of the royal house Saxe-Coburg-Weiden, of the former principality of Saxe-Weiden.”
Darby coughed heavily. When he managed to drew breath once more, he bobbed his head in an adequate bow to both of them. “I beg your pardon, Your Highnesses,” he said hurriedly, his ruddy face turning an even deeper shade of red. “I received no word about your arrival. There’s nothing done, no preparations….”
Danyal shook his head. “We will not be staying. Do not trouble yourself with preparations. Now you are here, though, it saves us from rooting you out of your abode. We wish to see the inside of the house, Darby. Please oblige us.”
Darby looked nervously toward the house. “Inside?”
“We have already seen the outside,” Great Aunt Annalies said, with a drawl.
Darby patted his pockets. “It’s just that…well, there hasn’t been the money for a good cleaning in quite a while.”
“We can discuss that afterward,” Danyal said, striding to the door. “Unlock it, please.”
Darby darted forward and pushed a big iron key into the lock. He fought with it, trying to turn it, putting most of his weight into it. The lock turned with a shriek of metal which made Elise wince.
The door opened. Elise braced herself, waiting for it to creak, but it didn’t. Now more than curious, she followed Danyal and Annalies into the manor.
The front hall was everything she had expected, with dark paneled walls and a polished staircase rising to the next floor. The floor was slate and had not been swept recently, for her boots crunched over it. She resisted the desire to pick up her train once more and followed everyone into the room on the right.
By its size, she determined it was a formal drawing room, for there was no furniture to give a hint as to its purpose.
“Good lord, look at the size of the fireplace!” Annalies breathed, moving toward the monstrous structure. The fireplace itself and the hearth were not extraordinarily large, but the surrounding façade rose right up to the edge of the ceiling. It was a golden yellow marble, intricately carved with heraldry panels, flourishes and borders, all in the old Georgian style, which used symmetry and pattern to such a pleasing effect.
The top lip of the firepit itself was stained with soot and flames which had licked at it in the past. A good scrubbing would remove it, Elise knew, for she had successfully scrubbed clean the marble surrounds of the morning room fireplace at home.
Danyal moved over to the bay window with the multiple panes. Elise had expected a window seat, but there was none—just the slender panes running from roof to floor, providing what should have been a delightful view.
“The ceiling is original to the house,” Darby added, his voice high and nervous. “It’s been patched and put back together, and it is still holding, you see.”
Everyone craned their heads up to look.
The ceiling was a barrel vault, the semicircular curve a deep one. Plasterwork covered it, with sinuous curves and flower symbols writhing over the full length.
“Why, how...unexpected,” Annalies murmured.
It was rather beautiful, Elise thought.
“We’d better see the rest of the house,” Danyal declared.
Darby took them on a tour of the rest of the house, even the staff quarters, then upstairs to look at the private sitting rooms, studies and bedrooms. There was a small library that was without a single book upon the many shelves. It echoed oddly.
The master bedroom was large, with a high ceiling of exposed beams and plaster, rising up to the peak of the wing’s roof. More support beams crisscrossed just under the peak, forming a pattern of dark struts.
The gable end of the room held a deep window that let in weak sunshine. The clouds had broken while they were inside.
The floorboards creaked under their feet, for they were bereft of muffling rugs. There was a layer of dust on the windowsill and the floor. Quite likely, the beams overhead were also coated on the upper side with a similar layer of dust.
Silently, they returned downstairs to the front hall which crunched underfoot.
Danyal turned to Darby. “What can you tell me about the tenant farmers?” he asked. “Why are the fields in front of the house lying fallow? How many farms are upon the estate?”
Darby rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t rightly say, Your Highness. There is a solicitor who comes to collect the rents each month and he don’t talk to me much.”
“Where is the furniture for this house?” Annalies demanded. “Isn’t it your responsibility to keep the house in a state of repair and fit for habitation for the return of its master at any time?”
Darby looked stressed. He tugged at the cravat. “There’s been no one living here for years and years,” he said apologetically. “About thirteen, fourteen years ago, a big cart came around, with a lot of men—strangers, all of them. They packed up the insides into crates and took the crates away on the cart. I asked them what they were doing, and they told me to speak to the solicitor. The solicitor said it was the family’s wishes that the furniture be sold to pay for taxes upon the estate. I figured then that it was unlikely anyone would be back to live here. So I’ve just had the house swept and dusted when there was money to pay for it….” He trailed off, looking from Danyal to Annalies. “I can give you the card the solicitor left me, if you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you,” Danyal said softly. “In a few weeks, you will receive further instructions about the maintenance of the house, and extra funds to bring it up to the standard you are expected to keep.”
“Especially the garden,” Elise added, for the forlorn weeds which had greeted them bothered her. No garden should look so utterly wretched.
“Yes, especially the garden,” Danyal added, his voice low. “Thank you, Darby. You may go.”
Darby tugged at his fringe and left with quick hurried steps.
“This is appalling,” Danyal said, when the door was shut. He looked around. “I will investigate and see if the estate has encumbrances. Perhaps it should be sold.”
“I suspect the reason it hasn’t been sold before now is because of encumbrances,” Annalies replied. “Most of the English titles have them.”
“Although I confess, I do not understand why. Does it matter where a lord lays his head at night?” Danyal asked.
The two of them fell to discussing the intricacies of the English peerage, a discussion that held no great interest for Elise. She was not a peer and was of the upper class only because of her father’s father, who had been royalty in Denmark. Her father was a commoner and a bastard and preferred to live among commoners and the bracing air of Northallerton. Elise couldn’t remember the last time her father had ventured as far south as London.
She wandered into the drawing room with the pleasing barrel-vaulted ceiling with its delightful plasterwork and stood at the back of the room to survey the giant fireplace, the bay window and the paneled walls in the rest of the room. At the same time, she tried to ignore the dust on the floor and the echoing emptiness of the room, which made it seem chilly.
Where she and Great Aunt Annalies had walked before, their trains had swept away the dust. Elise wondered grimly about the state of her hems, now, after being pulled across mud and then dust.
Yet the floor they had swept clean with their passing was a deep, dark gleaming wood, polished and glowing with generations of care. Elise studied the strong grain of the wood. “Walnut…” she breathed.
Danyal walked into the room and came over to her. “Your Great Aunt has suggested we return to Innesford. We can be back there in time for afternoon tea. Then we won’t have to stop in the village for lunch.”
“Danyal, look at this place,” Elise said. “I mean, really look at it. You stood at the window before. What did you see?”
&n
bsp; “Dead plants, damp ground, dark clouds,” he replied.
Elise gripped his sleeve. “Look at these floorboards,” she said, tapping them with her feet. “They are walnut—and they have been cared for over the years. A sweep and a polish and all of them would glow as this one here does.” She pointed to a board that had been swept bare by their hems. “And the ceiling and fireplace, Danyal—they are such a delight, if you can look past the dust. Come over here for a moment.” She drew him to the bay window.
They stood with the sun playing on their faces. There was no warmth in the watery light, but it did make the lawn beyond the drive look a little less yellow. “The view beyond this window was once wonderful,” she told him. “Look there and there, and there.” She pointed at the bedraggled garden just in front of the windows. “Those are rose bushes. Lavender and hollyhocks by the sides of the windows. Boxwood along the edges, which should be square and neat and tidy, but now looks as though it is in need of a good shave.”
Danyal gave a soft laugh as he peered through the windows.
“The other side of the front door is just as neglected, but it has potential, Danyal. A firm manager and some strong backs, and this house could be a delight to visit. I feel as though it was once cared for, that it was a place to which people were happy to return. It has fallen on hard times, lately.”
Danyal glanced at her, startled. “That sounds a lot like your life and mine.”
She gave a laugh of her own. “You think you have fallen on hard times, Danyal? You are the prince of a grand principality.”
“A prince who has faced the most unexpected challenges, lately,” he replied, his voice low. His gaze held hers and for a moment, Elise could not breathe.
Danyal was not smiling. There was a gravity in his gaze which ruined the heat in his expression. Perhaps it was even sadness.
Elise shivered. “We should leave now, if we are to reach Innesford before the scones and jam and cream are all gone.”
She turned and hurried out of the room, her heart thudding. How could she possibly want to kiss him, still? How could she even think of it?
Great Aunt Annalies studied Elise’s face as she came into the front hall. Her eyes narrowed behind the spectacles. Then she gathered up her train in a sweep of her arm and moved to the front door. “I would like to sit on the back bench by myself,” she declared. “You jostle too much for me to read in peace and I have reached the part where Esther sees her face in the mirror and wish to savor what comes next.”
They moved back to the carriage. Elise settled uncomfortably next to Danyal and stared out the window as the conveyance rolled away from the house.
They had passed through the village and turned onto the main road for Innesford when Danyal spoke. “I am curious, Elise, about what you see in the future for that old house.”
She shrugged, not looking at him. “I see nothing of interest to anyone here. If you can sell the house, you should. If Queen Victoria takes back the title, then you are rid of it, too.”
“But you think the manor can be restored.”
She couldn’t help but glance at him. “I do.”
“Even though only three tenant farmers remain, and their combined income would not cover the cost of coal to keep the house warm in winter?”
Elise straightened from her hunch to peer through the window. “I did not know that,” she confessed. “That is…unfortunate.”
“It is unfortunate,” Great Aunt Annalies said softly, turning the page of her book. “Estates and their lords have an obligation to take care of the people who look to them. These people have clearly felt the lack of such regard.”
“Isn’t that rather old fashioned, Great Aunt?” Elise said. “People used to depend upon their lords for protection in times of trouble, but there have been no wars in England for generations.”
“Trouble comes in all shapes and sizes,” Annalies replied absently. “A bad harvest can put an entire village at risk of starving.”
Danyal nodded. “It is the same for the people of Pandev. We have long since stopped watching our borders for invaders, but crops can still fail. Disease can destroy livestock. Trouble is always around the corner and in those times, the people need a clear head and directions to follow.”
“Hope,” Elise murmured. “You provide hope, too.”
“Indeed,” Great Aunt Annalies said, lifting her head from the book and gazing at both of them. “The circumstances might have changed, but the responsibilities have not.”
Danyal considered Annalies. “I suspect you would have made a very strong leader, had you been given the chance, Princess Annalies.”
“Thank you, but I prefer my books,” Annalies replied. “Along with my children and grandchildren, who provide more than their share of trouble.” Her smile was mischievous.
“Coal!” Elise exclaimed.
Annalies considered her, a brow lifted.
Danyal laughed. “Should I offer my handkerchief to you?”
“No, no… Coal, Danyal!” She turned on the seat to face him. “Cornwall is riddled with coal! And tin and copper, too… You should assay Blackawton. Goodness knows what you might find there and if there is something worth mining, then you would be supporting the local people. The estate would support itself handsomely, too.”
Danyal smiled, as if he was amused at her enthusiasm. “Land is always secure. There is no need to dig it up to obtain an income from it.”
“Only it isn’t bringing in an income right now. You just said so.” She sobered. “I have learned, these last few years—all of us have—that one cannot rely upon a single source of revenue, or even investments, and expect it to remain stable and provide for years and years. Things change, Danyal. The world changes, often without notice. If Blackawton was to produce coal, then it wouldn’t matter if the farmers don’t stay upon the estate.” She pressed her hands together. “Oh, and the income could be used to transform the house and the gardens! My father said he spent years and a good fortune rebuilding Northallerton. It was a rundown farm when he took it over and you’ve seen how extensive and well-founded Northallerton is now!”
She drew in a breath to speak again. In her mind, she could clearly see the house as it should be, with those beautiful walnut floors and the slate gleaming in the front hall. Oriental rugs on the floors upstairs. Drapes at the windows and a fire crackling in the fireplace. The roses blooming outside the windows and a willow draping its fronds upon the rolled and mowed lawn on the other side of the driveway….
Danyal shook his head. “No, Elise,” he said quietly.
She let out the breath she had taken, her enthusiasm shriveling.
“This is not my estate. It has never been a home to me,” he said, his voice still low. “It will be the privilege of someone else to transform Blackawton—and may their fortunes with the place run fairer than mine.”
Elise’s heart stuttered and sank. She turned and peered through the window once more, hiding her dismay. For a moment she had completely forgotten that Danyal was trying to rid himself of Blackawton and the dark past it represented. She had forgotten everything but the possibilities she had seen in the disguised lines and potential of the house.
She had forgotten, too, that Danyal would eventually leave England.
Forever.
She squeezed her fists under the lap robe and kept her gaze upon the window, so he could not see her face…or her dismay.
CHAPTER NINE
The tap at her bedroom door that night was not unexpected. Nor was the visitor’s identity.
Danyal had discarded his jacket and tie and wore a dressing gown over his shirt, which matched Elise’s deshabille. She wore a wrapper over her nightgown and her back hair was loose and cascading down her back.
Danyal glanced up and down the corridor behind him. “I thought…I wondered…” His expression grew vexed. “We must talk, you and I. The fire is still burning in the drawing room–”
Elise reached out and gripped the sleeve
of his robe and drew him into the room.
“No, this is not a good idea,” Danyal said, in a low voice as she shut the door behind him.
“We will be interrupted in the drawing room,” she assured him. “There are too many people tramping about this house tonight. It reminds me of gathers when I was younger—everyone stayed up all night then, too. Sit in the chair by the window if that makes you feel more comfortable. I will stay here on the bed.”
“No, not on the bed,” he said quickly.
“Then the secretary,” she amended, her cheeks burning.
He moved over to the chair with the cushion on it, beneath the window. Elise pulled out the stool beneath the drop-leaf of the secretary and settled upon it. She carefully arranged her wrapper so that no hint of her attire beneath it was visible, not even her ankles.
Danyal rubbed his temple.
“You look tired,” Elise observed.
He dropped his hand and simply looked at her. “This is not working, Elise.”
Her heart fluttered. “What is not working?”
“This. Us. This mad attempt to make us loathe each other.”
She thought of her dismay in the carriage that afternoon. “You have seen the most…most uncordial aspects of my life and of me, too. How can you possibly wish to…to…” She didn’t dare utter what she suspected he still wished for. She might be wrong and if she was right, then it would be self-aggrandizing to speak of it.
“To kiss you until you are breathless once more,” he finished, his voice hoarse. “Do you know how I long to hear you make that soft moan you made, when you were in my arms? How I ache for it? I want to give you reason to make that sound again. You have infected me, Elise. I burn with the fever to have you.”
Elise did not move on the stool, yet it felt to her as though her whole body had leapt. It throbbed.
She dared not speak. Her voice would give away her feelings, and she knew she could not encourage Danyal in even the smallest way.
Danyal tore his gaze away from her face, to stare at the blank window and the night beyond. “I thought learning about you would end this obsession. Yet it has only inflamed it.” He gave a despairing laugh. “And I thought I was drawn to decorative women…” he muttered.
Her Rebellious Prince (Scandalous Family--The Victorians Book 2) Page 10