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16

"I don't think I truly appreciated how rich Philip really was until now," Ivy said as our carriage approached the entrance to Ashton Hall, Philip's family seat. "How long has it taken us to reach the house from the main road? I feel like I am at Windsor."

"You should never appraise a man's fortune from the outer appearance of his estate, Ivy. Reserve judgment until you have seen the entire inside. Lord Palmer has shut up two of the wings of his country house. Fortunes are not what they used to be."

"That is very true," Margaret agreed. "But these grounds are spectacular, Emily."

"You really ought to spend the holidays here," Ivy suggested.

"I shall have to give the matter serious consideration." I wondered what it would have been like to spend Christmas here with Philip. My family, of course, would have visited, as would his. Did he prefer Ashton Hall or London? I had no idea. I looked at Ivy and smiled, knowing how nervous she was at the prospect of hosting her own holiday celebrations for the first time. Robert's mother had already joined them and evidently had a great many ideas about the renovations the couple were making to her former home. Poor Ivy! Her sweet nature made it difficult for her to stand up to her mother-in-law, but I knew that as time passed, she would find her own mischievous, though harmless, ways of making sure she was the only mistress of her estate.

The carriage stopped in front of the magnificent house, and I looked in wonder for several moments before accepting the footman's assistance in descending to the drive. I wished that Cécile were with us, as the façade reminded me a bit of Versailles, albeit on a slightly smaller scale. Mrs. Henley, the housekeeper, greeted us at the door and began immediately apologizing for the state of the interior.

"I assure you I am not here to judge you, Mrs. Henley. I've only come to take a look at the place; I'm sorry I haven't done so before. I realize that you had very little warning of my arrival."

"His lordship sent so many boxes and asked that they not be disturbed. Emory stacked them in the library." The man standing at her side bowed slightly. "We didn't know what to do with them after we heard of Lord Ashton's death, madam, and didn't want to disturb you."

"Please do not worry yourself, Mrs. Henley. You've done quite well. What are these boxes, Emory?"

"I couldn't say, madam. They arrived quite regularly for several months before your wedding, so I assumed they were items you and his lordship had purchased to redecorate the house." I looked at my friends and raised an eyebrow before replying.

"Would you please take me to the library?"

"Of course, madam."

"Shall I bring you some tea, your ladyship?" Mrs. Henley inquired. "You must be in need of refreshment after your long trip. Those railroads are not as comfortable as they might be."

"That would be lovely, Mrs. Henley." I smiled. Margaret, Ivy, and I followed Emory through a seemingly endless maze of rooms until we reached the largest library I had ever seen in a house. The housekeeper told us it contained more than thirty thousand volumes, a number I would not have believed had I not been standing in their midst when I heard it. Margaret was immediately drawn to them and began investigating the contents of the shelves. Massive fireplaces stood at either end of the room, and the remaining wall space was lined with bookshelves that rose to the ceiling, whose gilded stucco was painted with scenes from Greek mythology. The furniture, although very masculine looking, was made from a light-colored wood, brightening the room. Sunlight poured through tall French doors that overlooked the gardens behind the house. Altogether it was a very pleasant library. The only fault, as Mrs. Henley had warned us, was an extremely large pile of shipping crates in the middle of the floor.

"What on earth do you think could be in them?" Ivy asked, trying to peer into one.

"Let's find out." I motioned for Emory to open the box nearest to me.

"Shall we try to guess what it is?" Ivy asked. "Hunting trophies?"

"I hope not!" I exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon, your ladyship, but those come in much larger crates," Emory said apologetically.

"Maybe wedding gifts from Philip?" Ivy suggested.

"That hardly seems likely." I smiled. "I'm certain he would have told me of their existence." I thought of the moment on our wedding night when he had presented me with my gift, a delicate ivory brooch set in gold. He gave it to me while we lay in bed under a mountain of down-filled blankets after having, as my mother would say, performed our marital duties. The memory brought a bright smile to my face that quickly disappeared when I saw what Emory held up to me after unwrapping miles of packing materiaclass="underline" a lovely statue of the goddess Aphrodite. I looked at my friends knowingly.

"I didn't realize they were antiquities, madam. Would you like to display them with the others?"

"No, Emory. I'd like to open them here and set them up temporarily over there," I said, nodding in the direction of a group of long tables. "I'd like to catalog them before we do anything else."

"Would you like to see the house while I unwrap the rest, madam?"

"That's an excellent idea, Emily," Ivy said. "Shall I ring for Mrs. Henley?" I didn't really want to leave the library but agreed with Ivy nonetheless, knowing that it would take considerable time for Emory to open all the boxes.

"Would you mind if I stay here?" Margaret asked. "It's a spectacular library."

"Not at all. Enjoy the books," I replied. "You may send for someone to help you if you like, Emory," I said as Ivy and I embarked upon our tour.

"Thank you, your ladyship, but Lord Ashton preferred that none of the staff but myself touch his antiquities," Emory replied, standing proudly as he spoke. "Except for Mr. Davis, of course."

Ivy laughed softly as we left the room. "What would Philip say if he knew you allowed a mere parlormaid to dust his bust of Apollo? Especially given the end result?"

"Not amusing," I scolded. The splendor of the house soon captivated me, and for over an hour I forgot about Praxiteles and the forgers. Every room was beautifully furnished in the height of luxury, walls covered in silk, floors carpeted with the finest rugs from the Orient. Not surprisingly, my favorite room was Philip's gallery, which was filled with the most exquisite Greek antiquities I had seen outside of a museum.

"I could definitely live here," Ivy said, sighing.

"It's a magnificent house," Mrs. Henley agreed. "And the family has always been wonderful. The viscount was a bit eccentric, but I imagine you know that as well as anyone, madam. Nothing wrong with poking about in museums, I suppose, but I could do without his hunting trophies. Too many of them, I've always thought."

"The hunting trophies!" I cried. "I had completely removed them from my mind. Take us to them, Mrs. Henley."

When at last we came to the end of a series of long hallways and the housekeeper opened the door, I could barely contain myself.

"Oh, dear, Ivy, this is the most dreadful room I've ever seen!" I cried. "Margaret must see it."

"This is the oldest section of the house, madam, the old medieval hall."

"Yes, that explains the size," I said. The immense room was packed with stuffed and mounted animals of every size and shape; heads of more unfortunate beasts lined the walls.

"There's his elephant, Emily," Ivy said, pointing across the room.

"Mr. Hargreaves was kind enough to arrange for the taxidermy and shipment from Africa," Mrs. Henley said.