Page 25 of A Lady's Curves
“I cannot argue with that. The blame was my own and I paid the price the next morning.” Remembering how sweet Oscar was and how he arranged for the cook to help me makes those butterflies active in my belly and my cheeks heat.
Honoria points across the square. “There is his lordship now.”
A very determined Oscar Stafford frowns as he strides toward us. “Shall we continue our journey, ladies?”
“Is everything all right, my lord?” I ask as he escorts us back to the carriage.
His expression softens, and he lets out a long breath. “I checked with the magistrate to see if Mr. Bellston remained in this area so that I could confront him, but he has moved on. It seems he made off with some city funds.”
“Oh dear.” I step into the carriage. Once he’s across from Honoria and me, I ask, “Did you tell him about your troubles?”
“I felt I had to.” His brow is drawn in and his jaw ticks while he rings his hands.
Leaning forward, I put my hand over his. “You did the right thing.” Realizing we are not alone, I pull away and avoid looking at Honoria.
Leaving town behind, the countryside is beautiful.
Maybe a change of subject would lighten the mood. “Lady Honoria has made a request that at some point we journey to Plymouth.”
“Of course. Perhaps in a week or so. Have you friends there, my lady?” Oscar remains stoic, but the anger has left his eyes.
She shrugs. “I did have some friends there. I’ll write and see if they’re still in the area.”
The first glimpse of Kensfield Manor takes my breath away. It’s a sprawling house with three stories and the sun gleaming off the windows. A lake reflects the house and sky, making it even more magical. At the center of the golden stone building is a wide entry with six stairs leading to a magnificent arched double door. A dozen servants stand at the bottom of the steps awaiting our arrival. At the door, a butler with black hair, a straight back, and a stern look, stands with his hands behind his back.
Oscar leans toward me. “What do you think, Ann?”
“It’s beautiful.” I’m breathless.
Honoria clears her throat. “A fine property, my lord. I’m surprised you prefer the house in Scotland when you have such a home.”
He’s saved from answering by the carriage stopping and a footman opening the door.
Oscar steps down and waits to hand each of us out of the carriage. “Ladies, welcome to Kensfield Manor. I’ve not been here in years, but it is the property that pays the bills. Let’s hope it’s in better shape than the London house was.”
The staff is bright and happy to see us. Footmen run to help the second carriage that carries Honoria’s maid and Oscar’s valet along with all the luggage.
At the top the stairs, Oscar shakes the butler’s hand. “Hodgins, it’s good to see you.”
“Welcome home, my lord. The house is ready for guests.” He bows to Honoria and me.
“Hodgins took over for his father as butler here about twenty years ago. Allow me to introduce Lady Honoria Chervil and Miss Ann Wittman. Miss Wittman is going to sort out the damage done by Bellston.” Oscar’s grimace is back.
“Very good. Mrs. Dunning will show the ladies to their rooms and there’s a small meal ready whenever you’ve settled in. You must be tired after such a long journey.” Hodgins is the perfect butler. Serious yet concerned.
I like him immediately. “Thank you, Hodgins. You’ve thought of everything.”
A hint of a smile pulls at the butler’s tight lips. “It is my honor to serve you, Miss.”
Mrs. Dunning is a tall, robust woman with the keys to the house jangling at her waist. She smiles brightly. “I hope you will both like the rooms we arranged. If you need anything at all, pull the cord and someone will come to help. Will the miss be needing a lady’s maid during her stay?”
It’s not an unusual question. I’ve been asked as well as chastised for not having one. It’s too much like my old life. “No thank you. My clothes are made to be donned by me alone. However, should I need help, I’ll ring.”
Once in my lovely room with pale-blue damask walls and matching drapes, I look out the window at the garden and the stable beyond. It’s lovely here. My parents live about twenty miles in that direction.
A knock on my open door breaks me away from my thoughts.
Oscar stands just outside the doorway. “Is this to your liking, Ann? There are many other rooms if you don’t care for this one.”
