Page 22 of House of Roots and Ruin
“Well,” he said, releasing his hold as two footmen came out to help the driver with my belongings. “Miss Thaumas. Verity. Welcome to Chauntilalie.”
“Darling,” a voice called from inside the manor. It was pitched a resplendent alto, each syllable given the perfect amount of weight and emphasis. “What are you doing out there? It’s growing so dark….”
A woman ventured out from the entryway, swathed in raspberry crepe. The gown was all angles, folded and tailored to her trim frame as if she were a nymph emerging from a delicate flower, neither entirely woman nor plant.
I’d never seen anyone look so artfully put together. She was older than Camille, probably in her midforties. Her skin was darker than Alexander’s, a rich chestnut. Her hair was tightly curled and swept into a loose chignon, showing off the elegant length of her neck. Streaks of gold swirled in her burnished curls. Her back and shoulders were as straight as a ruler but she moved with polished grace, a bird with air in her bones.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, her heart-shaped face brightening as she spotted me. “Verity! You’re here,” she said, breezing to me in a cloud of jasmine. Her laughter sounded like music. “Forgive me, Miss Thaumas. I’ve heard so much about you from Mercy that I feel as though we’re already quite good friends.”
“Lady Laurent,” I guessed. Mercy’s friend. My new patron. I crossed one ankle behind the other and dipped into a short curtsy.
She waved my reverence away with a sweep of one hand, delicate chains of gold winking on her wrist. “There’s no need to stand on formality for my sake,” she assured me. “Please, call me Dauphine.” She glanced toward the carriage. “We received your letter a few days ago but weren’t sure exactly when to expect you. Then a package arrived yesterday, addressed to you, and I knew you must already be on your way here.”
“A package?” I asked, my mouth drying. Camille must have sent her swiftest clipper for it to have arrived before me.
“Mmm.” Dauphine nodded. “From your sister, I believe. No doubt you’ll want to let her know of your safe arrival. Take her things to the north wing, please,” she said, raising her voice for the footmen. “I think those rooms will suit our guest beautifully.”
I rubbed at the charcoal staining my fingers, all my confidence draining from me in the face of her serene style. I’d never felt so distinctly rumpled before. “I’m so sorry if my arrival is an imposition. I—”
“Nonsense. We were so pleased you accepted our offer. Weren’t we, Alexander?” She ruffled the hairs at the back of his neck and he nodded, his smile lopsided and charming. “I was just coming to find my son, then dress for dinner.”
My eyes swept over her, surprised such a sculptured masterpiece was considered afternoon wear.
“You’ve not eaten yet, I hope?” Her eyebrows rose as she waited for my response, her lips puckered into a perfect question mark. Her eyes were just like Alexander’s—a brilliant sea green,ringed in amber. They remained pinned on me, unwavering in their interest and terrifying in their intensity.
“No. No, not yet.”
A smile broke across her face, like a bank of clouds shifting to reveal the sun. “Wonderful. Join us, won’t you? James will need to know to set another place—Alexander, would you pass along the message, please?”
“Miss Thaumas must be exhausted from her travels. You’re not really going to make her suffer through a long, formal dinner, are you, Mother? Perhaps we could bring her up something, once she’s had a moment to unpack and refresh herself.”
“Suffer?” Her laughter was buoyant as a scarf caught in a brisk breeze. “I should hope my dinners don’t cause you pain.”
“Only when you serve seven courses of quail,” he said with a quick smile. It might have been a trick of the purple gas lights, but I could have sworn he winked at me.
My lips rose, instantly warmed by his charm.
Yes, this would be a magnificent portrait.
“You’ll let James know?” Dauphine pressed insistently.
Alexander shrugged at me as if saying he’d tried. “It would be my delight. I’ll see you soon, Miss Thaumas,” he promised, angling his chair back and heading toward the door. He wheeled himself up the ramp and disappeared into the shadowed depths of the house.
Dauphine turned toward me. “Alex is right. You must be so tired from all your travels.” Though she ran a swift look of appraisal over my gabardine, her eyes remained kind.
“Itwasa rather long journey,” I admitted. “But I loved every moment of it. I’ve never been this far into Arcannia’s mainlandbefore.”
Her eyebrows arched. “That surprises me. Though Mercy mentioned how keen your eldest sister is at keeping to Highmoor. Such a lovely old estate.”
“You’ve been to Salann?” I asked, following her as she gestured toward the front entry. She slowed her pace, matching our strides like a shadow.
“Many years ago. We were on our honeymoon progress. Your mother was pregnant at the time. With the triplets, I think it was?” She nodded to herself. “I’d never seen so much water before. Neither had Gerard—my husband. The poor dear, he didn’t fare well on the trip over…or back.”
“The waves can be brutal if you’re not accustomed to— Oh my!” My mouth fell open as we crossed the threshold and stepped into the foyer.
Everything was so…light.
Light and green and so very dazzling. The entryway soared up the entire height of the manor, with a set of dueling staircases winding up to a balcony bedecked in bowers of verdure. Higher above was a massive skylight—its panes of windows set like a starburst. Giant fronds danced outside of it—a garden must have been planted on the roof. During peak daylight, I could see they would cast a filtered glow to the room, tingeing the white stone walls a verdant hue.
