She had just donned a gown of yellow sprigged muslin when she heard a soft rap on her chamber door, followed by Mrs. Simpkin’s low voice. “’Tis I, Miss Arabella. I’ve brought your breakfast.”
When Arabella bid entrance, the housekeeper bustled in with a laden tray, which she placed on the dressing table. “I suspected you didn’t wish to breakfast with Lord Danvers, so I took the liberty of bringing yours here.” She had also kindly sent up a dinner tray last night so Arabella wouldn’t go hungry.
“Thank you, Mrs. Simpkin,” Arabella said with genuine warmth, glad to avoid being alone again with Marcus so soon on the heels of their disastrous dinner. “By the way, who are those laborers in the gardens?”
“They are from London. His lordship sent for them to tidy the landscaping. Oh, and there are a half dozen tradesmen and merchants awaiting you in my accounts room.”
Her eyebrows rose with curiosity. “Awaiting me?”
“Yes. Lord Danvers sent to London for them as well. He means to set the manor to rights, to replace all the shabby furnishings and wallpaper and draperies in the house from top to bottom. But he said he wishes you to make all the decisions, since he doesn’t know brocade from buckram.” The housekeeper returned to the door but paused there to address Arabella again. “I must say it will be good to see the Hall live up to its former glory. And it will be even better to have a mistress here once more.” The smile the elderly servant gave her was somewhat secretive. “Perhaps his lordship isn’t so disagreeable as we feared.”
Arabella wondered what had precipitated Mrs. Simpkin’s sudden change of heart, for she’d been as worried about the new earl as his reluctant wards were. But likely the housekeeper was merely grateful that the manor would finally receive some beautifying after the former lord’s tightfisted ways.
“Perhaps Lord Danvers isn’t entirely disagreeable,” Arabella said noncommittally.
“At least he has forgiven me for the wretched dinner last evening.”
It had dismayed Arabella to think Marcus would hold the housekeeper responsible for her own actions. “I told him you weren’t to blame for the dinner, Mrs. Simpkin.”
“I know, but all the same, I don’t like to be in his lordship’s poor graces.” Her brown eyes twinkled. “Thankfully he decided not to bring any toplofty London chef down after all, and he gave me leave to hire a new cook. I will be glad for the respite from the kitchens, I must say. ’Twill be a full-time job to oversee all the maids he instructed me to employ. Simpkin is already hopping to keep up with the footmen Lord Danvers sent from his London house last week.” Again the housekeeper paused. “Shall I tell the merchants you will be down shortly, Miss Arabella? They are eager to show you their wares.”
“Yes, as soon as I finish breakfast.”
Mrs. Simpkin’s warning was true, Arabella learned when she had quickly eaten and gone downstairs to the housekeeper’s small office. Marcus had indeed summoned an army of tradesmen to refurbish the manor house. There were seven merchants eagerly awaiting her with armfuls of fabric samples and catalogues and sketchbooks.
All of them bowed politely to her, but when they began clamoring for her attention, Arabella held up a hand. “Pray, give me a moment, good sirs.”
Turning quickly, she went in search of Simpkin and found him occupied in supervising the group of new footmen in cleaning and polishing all the lamps in the house.
“Where may I find Lord Danvers?” she asked.
“I believe his lordship is in the study, Miss Arabella,” Simpkin answered.
She made her way through the house to the study, where she found the door open. When she entered and spied Marcus, however, she came up short. He was settled comfortably on a sofa, reading the morning papers, which must also have been delivered from London.
The sight of him made Arabella’s stomach flutter. He was dressed far less formally than last evening, in a russet-colored coat but no cravat or waistcoat. His linen shirt was open at the neck, showing an immodest expanse of chest, much like last week when she’d interrupted his fencing match.
His slow smile of greeting suggested he understood the affect his casual attire had on her.
“Arabella, what a pleasure,” he said, rising. “I confess surprise that you would voluntarily seek me out after hiding from me in your room all morning.”
Resolving not to let herself be provoked, she repressed a wry retort and instead asked about his decision to spend what surely would be a fortune. “I don’t understand your desire to refurbish the entire house. Why would you go to such expense?”
“This is my home now, as well as yours.”
“But you needn’t redecorate so completely.”
“I think it time, since the furnishings are a century old.”
“Is that why you hired so many merchants?”
Marcus shook his head. “I’ve left the actual hiring to you. And you aren’t required to use them all. I only thought to give you a wider choice. You have full authority to decorate any way you wish.”
“But why would you allow me so much authority?” Arabella asked in bewilderment.
“Because you undoubtedly have better taste and experience than I, for one.”
“This is not simply a way to soften my resistance?”
His sensual smile lit the room. “Of course it is, darling. You know I mean to do everything in my power to persuade you to become my wife.”
Biting back amusement, Arabella gave him a measuring glance. “Throwing your wealth around will do little to persuade me.”
“But it won’t hurt, either. I am not entirely witless when it comes to understanding the female mind. You ladies like to be in charge of a household.”
“I am not in charge here, Marcus.”
“Of course you are. You are mistress here now, and that will continue when you are my countess.” When Arabella raised her gaze to the ceiling, he chuckled softly. “I thought you would be pleased by my gesture.”
“You have certainly made Mrs. Simpkin happy,” she said drolly. “It was clever of you to have increased the servant staff so generously, for there is no surer path to her heart.”
“What about the path to your heart?” When Arabella refused to answer, Marcus laughed. “Mrs. Simpkin and I have come to an understanding.”
“Which means you charmed her into doing your bidding.”
“That, and I told her I was courting you. She approves, by the way.”
A look of exasperation claimed Arabella’s features as she turned and silently exited the room. It didn’t surprise her that Marcus would use any means necessary to win the housekeeper’s support, for she herself had vowed to employ all her resources to prevail in their wager.
Yet Arabella had to admit she was pleased to see him putting Danvers Hall to rights. The manor was indeed beautiful, and the estate deserved to be worthy of an earl. She only wished Roslyn were here, since her sister had impeccable taste and had been better trained by their mother to fill the role of lady of the manor.
Arabella spent the entire morning with the merchants, appraising the formal rooms of the house and choosing fabrics and furnishings. The task occupied her so intensely that she paid no attention to the passing time.
She was trying to decide between a forest green velvet and blue brocade for the drawing room draperies when Simpkin appeared in the doorway. “Miss Blanchard has called to see you, Miss Arabella.”
Arabella raised her head in surprise. “Oh, my word. I completely forgot my class.”
It had slipped her mind entirely that she’d been expected to teach at the academy at eleven. Her closest friend and fellow teacher at the school, Tess Blanchard, had no doubt come to see why she had uncustomarily failed to appear.
“Where have you put Miss Blanchard, Simpkin?”
“She is waiting in the entrance hall, since I couldn’t find a parlor not covered with fabric and wallpaper swatches.”
Arabella was about to leave the drawing room when the butler cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Miss Arabella, but where do you wish me to place all the flowers?”