The curricle swept around the turning circle and rattled to a halt. A couple of grooms ran forwards as Annabelle and Caroline descended, looking about them with interest.
“There you are at last! Wondered what had happened to you!” said Lord Carlton as he came down the impressive stone steps to greet them.
Lord Carlton was a jovial man of some fifty years of age. He was running to fat, but by virtue of a good tailor he managed to disguise it. His coat, a well-fitting garment of black, was complemented by cream breeches and buckskin boots. His linen was simple, and consisted of a starched shirt and a simply tied cravat.
Annabelle took his hands. “We are glad to be here.”
“Storm held you up?”
“Yes, alas, it did. We had to spend the night in an inn. I hope you were not anxious on our account?”
“Guessed what had happened. Couldn’t drive in that rain!” said Lord Carlton. “Wretched weather. But that’s England for you! Come in, come in.” He led them up the stone steps and into the house.
The hall was light and spacious. A staircase swept upwards from the far end, drawing the eye towards a magnificent chandelier that sparkled above them.
Having glanced around her, Annabelle began to unfasten the strings of her bonnet. At that moment Lady Carlton came into the hall.
“Annabelle! My dear! And Caroline!” she said, coming forwards and kissing them both on the cheek. “I have only just been informed of your arrival.”
They embarked on the customary exchanges, with Lord Carlton enquiring after the horses, and Lady Carlton anxious to know that the sheets in the inn had been aired. Then Lady Carlton took Annabelle and Caroline by the arm and said, “Come, let me show you to your rooms.”
Leaving her husband to see to the other guests, Lady Carlton led them up the imposing staircase, chattering all the time. She was a small, birdlike woman, quick and light in her movements, and was some ten years younger than her lord.
They reached Caroline’s room first. Annabelle and Lady Carlton left her to the ministrations of her maid, who had travelled previously by coach, as had Annabelle’s maid, because the curricle would not hold so many.
“This is your room. I hope you will like it,” said Lady Carlton, as she led Annabelle into a beautiful bedroom.
Large windows gave into the gardens. A four-poster bed was set against the left-hand wall, whilst opposite it was an Adam fireplace.
“It is beautiful, Laura,” said Annabelle.
As Annabelle removed her bonnet and stripped off her gloves, Laura moved around the room with her quick, light movements, now smoothing the red damask counterpane, now adjusting a pair of Sèvres vases that stood on the mantelpiece, one on either side of an ormolu clock.
“It is such a pleasure having you here,” said Laura, at last turning to face Annabelle. “When your dear mama passed away I promised I would do all I could for you, and …”
She stopped, disconcerted, as Annabelle began to laugh.
“Oh, dear,” said Annabelle, trying to bring her features back under control. “I should not be laughing. It is so wonderfully kind of you. But I do hope you are not going to introduce me to a string of eligible young men?”
Laura looked momentarily put out. But then she replied, with a twinkle in her eye, “Not a string of them, no. And not all of them young, either. Some of them are quite old! But you mustn’t blame me for trying. Seeing you married was the greatest wish of your mother’s heart. She was so happy in marriage herself, you see.”
Annabelle sighed. “That is the problem. Mama married for love, and I can do no less.”
“Which is why I have invited some perfectly saintly men for the summer,” said Laura. “Men you are sure to fall in love with.”
“I will have a difficult time if I am sure to fall in love with all of them! Although, perhaps I will leave one for Caroline.”
“Ah, yes, Caroline. Hetty wrote to me. Is it serious, this fixation with the gardener, or just an infatuation?”
“An infatuation, of course, but I pray you will not tell her so. If you do, it will only take her longer to see it for herself.”
“I will not breathe a word of it. I will only mention it if she mentions it first, and then I promise to treat it seriously. I remember my own youth. For me, it was a dancing master. He had the most wonderful calves! My sisters and I could not take our eyes from them! But I must not keep you talking. I had better leave you to change.” She gave Annabelle an affectionate kiss and left the room.
Annabelle looked around her, taking in her new surroundings in more detail. The room was lovely, with its light furniture and pale cream walls, and the view out of the window was inviting. She might like to take a walk in the grounds before dinner, she thought. After spending most of the day in the carriage some exercise would do her good.
The door opened, and Sally, her maid, entered the room.
“They said as how you’d arrived. Worried sick I’ve been, thinking you must have taken a tumble,” said Sally.
“Well, here I am, in one piece, having suffered nothing worse than a wetting,” said Annabelle. She sat down at the dressing table. “I think I will take a turn around the gardens when you have finished with my hair.”
“And changed your frock. What did you do, sleep in it?”
“Almost. I had to sleep in my chemise.”
Sally threw up her hands in despair. “Why you can’t get yourself a nice steady coach with a nice steady coachman I don’t know. You can afford it.”
“But I like my curricle.”
“Break your neck in it, you will, one of these days,” grumbled Sally, as she helped Annabelle out of her creased muslin and into a jonquil sarcenet.
“There, that looks better,” said Sally.
“Thank you, Sally.”
Slipping into her pelisse and tying her poke bonnet on top of her fair curls, Annabelle picked up her gloves and proceeded to make her way downstairs. She found a side door and decided to stroll through the gardens. The roses were just beginning to come into bloom. A few unfurled flowers dotted the banks of bushes, and buds were swelling on the stems. She breathed in, but it was too early in the year to catch their perfume.
She heard a crunching sound and looked up, prepared to greet her fellow guest with a cheery, “Good afternoon,” but was rendered speechless when she saw Daniel walking towards her.
“Daniel!” she said in astonishment. “I thought you had some business to attend to.”
“And I thought you were seeing friends!” he said, equally taken aback.
“So I am. The Carltons are my friends.”
“So you are staying here?” he asked, a smile breaking out over his face.
“Yes. And you?”
“Yes. My business is with Lord Carlton. I am staying here, too.”
She smiled warmly, feeling ridiculously pleased.
“May I accompany you?” he asked.
“Yes, I would like that.”
He offered her his arm and she took it.
“Will you be staying at Whitegates long?” he asked as they strolled along the gravel path together.
“For a month, certainly,” said Annabelle. “Lady Carlton is an old friend of my mother’s, and has kindly invited me to stay for as long as I choose. And you?”
“Until my business is done.”
“Have you known Lord and Lady Carlton long?”
“Lord Carlton I’ve known for many years. He and I are joint guardians of my nephew. That is why I am here, to talk over our joint responsibilities and to think about the boy’s future. Lady Carlton I know less well.”
“I am glad to find you here. I know very few of the other guests, and it is always nice to see a familiar face,” she explained hastily.
“Ah.”
They had by this time almost reached the end of the formal gardens and, as they rounded a corner, they saw a family coming towards them. The mother, a buxom matron, was clad in a voluminous cape, and was puffing along beside her three, very pretty, daughters.