Page 43 of A Duke Makes a Deal
Shivering, Clara forced those thoughts from her mind just as the carriage turned. They had arrived.
Greystone Manor was rectangular in shape, with a long center block at the ground floor level, topped by bedrooms and attics above. There were two lower flanking wings joined to the main block by colonnades. To the south of the house was a detached quadrangular stable.
The exterior was both grand and restrained, constructed of fine-grained, silver stone, the genesis of the name Greystone Manor. In line with the Palladian style, it had domes punctuating each corner of the manor.
Standing outside to greet the train of carriages were nearly fifty uniformed servants, headed by a housekeeper, a butler and a cook. In front of all of them however, stood a very tall, very slim woman with wavy grey hair, pinned back into an elegant coiffeur. She wore a plum and black gown that went all the way up to her chin, giving her the appearance of some regal queen. Standing next to her was a slightly shorter girl, perhaps only just seventeen, dressed in a gown of the palest green. She had dark, wavy hair that was held back in a similar fashion as the olderwoman and Clara knew that these two must be Silas’s mother and sister.
Trying to regulate her breathing, Clara exited the carriage following her parents. Their vehicle had been second in line, behind Silas’s, who had already exited his carriage and was now standing before his mother. They exchanged a few words before he turned and stepped aside to make the introductions. Clara ignored the thunderous pounding of her nervous heart and tried her hardest not to trip or lose her balance as she approached the dowager duchess.
“Miss Clara Woodvine,” the older woman said stoically with a nod as Clara made sure to curtsy extra low. “A pleasure to meet the woman who was so swift to steal my son’s heart.”
Her tone was tight and didn’t quite match her words. She certainly didn’tseempleased. Clara was conscious not to fidget in front of this woman. She glanced at Silas who seemed to be trying not to roll his eyes.
“Your Grace,” Clara said slowly. “It’s an honor to make your acquaintance. His Grace spoke very highly of you and I’m very happy to be able to meet you.”
The dowager duchess was silent. Clara’s eyes lifted to see one of her brows arched, before letting her gaze drop as she waited for her new mother-in-law to speak.
“She’s sweet, Silas. A bit eager, but sweet,” she said after a moment. She turned to her son. “Try not to break this one.”
Clara felt her cheeks heat up at those words as the dowager climbed the stairs. She studied Silas’s profile as a cold veneer shrouded his face.
“Ignore her,” a feminine voice said to Silas, catching Clara off guard. She turned and saw his sister approach him, careful not to give Clara any attention. “She’s just sour that she wasn’t consulted about this rather unexpected affair.”
“And you’re not?” he asked her plainly, glancing back at Clara.
The girl wouldn’t turn around to follow her brother’s gaze, but she shook her head.
“Why should I be?” she asked sweetly, Clara was wary of her tone.
Seemingly convinced, Silas nodded and turned to the housekeeper.
“Mrs. Bridges,” he said and Clara could hear the genuine happiness in his voice. “It’s wonderful to see you.”
“You as well, your grace,” the elderly woman said, with a curtsy.
“Will you help Boggs show Miss Woodvine and her parents to their rooms?”
“Of course, your grace,” she said nodding. She too seemed to be evading Clara’s gaze.
Clara tried to make her face impassive as she followed the housekeeper into the cavernous home. It seemed everyone at Greystone was going to ignore her completely.What had she done agreeing to marry this man?
Upon entering the grand building, Clara noted that everything inside the manor was opulent, lavish and terrifying. As she followed Mrs. Bridges, she noted the large paintings depicting ancient wars, Persian rugs and gold leaf ceiling murals that seemed to be everywhere Clara’s eyes landed. A large, marble staircase to the right of the entrance hall led to the second floor, where another massive hallway opened up into three smaller hallways. An east wing led to family accommodations while the west wing led to guest rooms.
Once Clara’s parents had settled in the Lilac room in the family wing, Mrs. Bridges turned to lead Clara out of the east wing.
“Oh,” she said, cautiously. “Am I staying in the west wing?”
The housekeeper slowed her steps.
“No, my lady. Of course not. You’re to stay in your own room, adjacent to his grace’s apartments.”
“Oh,” Clara said, nervously. “Yes, of course.”
Mrs. Bridges nodded assuredly at her.
“Very well. Follow me.”
Clara followed Mrs. Bridges up a smaller, but no less elegant marble staircase up a north wing. Grand landscape paintings hung from the walls down the corridor, each more serene looking than the last. At the end of the hallway, there was a large window that went from the floor to the ceiling and had a view of the property. The housekeeper had gone to the last door on the left, but Clara had continued forward until she was looking out the window.
