Page 20 of Duke of Myste
Jane affected her most composed expression as she followed him up the marble steps, acutely aware that her introduction to his household represented a significant milestone in their unconventional courtship.
The entrance hall, when they stepped inside, momentarily took her breath away—not merely for its grandeur, which was indeed considerable, but for its unexpected warmth.
While she had expected cold magnificence—marble, gold, and imposing portraits designed to intimidate visitors with the full weight of Riverstone ancestry—she found instead a space that somehow balanced dignity with welcoming elegance.
Fresh flowers adorned tables of warm mahogany, sunlight streamed in through tall windows onto floors covered with rich carpets in jewel tones, and the ancestral portraits, while present, were interspersed with landscapes and classical scenes that softened their stern effect.
“Your home is beautiful,” Jane offered, genuine appreciation overcoming her determination to maintain a critical assessment. “Not at all what I expected.”
Richard’s eyebrow rose slightly. “And what did you expect, Miss Brandon? Suits of armor and medieval instruments of torture?”
“Nothing quite so dramatic,” Jane replied with a small smile. “But perhaps more ostentation and less… comfort.”
“The public rooms maintain appropriate ducal dignity,” Richard acknowledged, gesturing toward double doors that presumably led to formal reception areas. “But the family spaces were redesigned under my mother’s direction. She had strong opinions regarding the difference between a house and a home.”
The unexpected glimpse into his family history—offered without calculation or purpose—reminded Jane of their conversation in the park, when mention of his mother’s gardens had momentarily softened his usual reserve.
Before she could pursue this potential opening, however, their attention was diverted by the sound of rapid footsteps on the staircase.
“Richard! You’ve returned, at last. Mrs. Mason has been in an absolute state about dinner arrangements, convinced you intended to change everything despite my assurances to the contrary.”
The woman descending the stairs bore a striking resemblance to Richard—the same dark hair and hazel eyes, the same proud bearing—yet her expression held none of his habitual severity. Instead, lively intelligence and barely suppressed energy animated features that might otherwise have been merely handsome rather than genuinely arresting.
“Harriet,” Richard greeted, a subtle shift in his posture suggesting both affection and resignation. “I believe I mentioned that punctuality was particularly important today.”
Harriet Riverstone reached the bottom of the stairs, her gaze immediately finding Jane with undisguised curiosity.
“Miss Brandon,” she breathed, bobbing a curtsy that was somehow immaculate and subtly irreverent. “How delightful to finally meet the woman who has thrown my brother’s perfectly ordered existence into such delicious disarray!”
“Harriet.” Richard’s tone carried a warning, though it was tinged with humor.
Jane found herself immediately drawn to Harriet’s direct approach after weeks of careful social navigation.
“The disarray, I assure you, has been mutual,” she replied, returning the curtsy with equal precision. “Your brother’s effect on my carefully constructed principles has been equally unsettling.”
A delighted laugh escaped Harriet’s lips, her eyes sparkling with appreciation. “Oh, I like you already,” she said as she looped her arm through Jane’s with unexpected familiarity. “Richard, you might have mentioned she possesses a sense of humor. It would have considerably eased my concerns about your impending nuptials.”
“Had I been aware of Miss Brandon’s previously concealed humorous inclinations, I would have included that information in my correspondence,” Richard replied with the dry tone Jane had come to recognize as his version of teasing. “Perhaps you might allow our guest to proceed further than the entrance hall before subjecting her to your particular brand of hospitality?”
“Of course,” Harriet agreed cheerfully, maintaining her grip on Jane’s arm as she guided her toward a doorway to the right. “We shall have tea in the blue drawing room, where I can interrogate her properly without you hovering about with that disapproving expression.”
Jane glanced back at Richard, uncertain whether she should be alarmed or amused by this development. The look he returned was complex—part apology, part resignation, and something else she couldn’t quite identify.
“I have correspondence that requires my immediate attention,” he said, his formal tone belied by the subtle warmth in his eyes. “I shall join you ladies in an hour, by which I trust Harriet will have exhausted her initial curiosity.”
“Unlikely,” Harriet called over her shoulder as she continued guiding Jane toward the drawing room. “But a valiant hope, nonetheless, Brother dear!”
The blue drawing room proved as unexpected as the entrance hall—a harmonious blend of elegant furniture and comfortable arrangements, with windows overlooking a surprisingly lush garden for a London townhouse.
Harriet directed Jane to a seat near the fireplace, where a small tea service had already been arranged.
“Now,” she said as she poured the amber liquid with an elegance that belied her otherwise unconventional manners, “let us dispense with social niceties, shall we? I am desperately curious about the woman who has apparently agreed to marry my impossible brother, and I suspect you have questions about the household you may soon be mistress of.”
Jane accepted the proffered teacup, finding Harriet’s directness refreshingly uncomplicated after weeks of careful diplomatic navigation.
“I confess, I did not anticipate such a warm welcome,” she said. “Given the unusual circumstances of our engagement.”
Harriet’s expression sobered slightly. “You mean the scandal,” she muttered, dispensing with euphemism in a way that reminded Jane startlingly of Richard at his most direct. “I, of all people, am hardly in a position to judge anyone based on social missteps, Miss Brandon. Besides, Richard has made it quite clear in his letters that you acted with considerable courage in protecting your sister.”
