Page 12 of Once Upon a Winter's Tale
“I’m ready to clean up. Is the room prepared?”
“Yes. I placed you in your father’s old suite and prepared your bath,” Wilson answered.
“You’ve done us all a tremendous favor,” Albert said, laughing. “It’s been an eventful day, and, of all days, this one requires a bath.” He had given no thought to where he would sleep and wished he had anticipated being placed in his father’s old suite. He could have requested a different room.
Wilson winced. “I hate to agree, Your Grace, but…”
“Normally, I’d find that insulting, but knowing what I smell like,” Albert said, snickering, “I honestly agree.”
Albert liked Wilson. It was good to have someone more contemporary with his own age.
An hour later, he returned to his study and poured himself a glass of brandy. Something had been nagging at him since his arrival. He’d felt out of his element because he knew very little about the area or this property. His father had always been the one to check on it.
“Before I forget, I plan to go to the village tomorrow,” he told Wilson. “Check with the staff and find what I should be made aware of before I go. I’d hate to create a blunder on my first trip here.”
“Yes, Your Grace. I’m sure Cook and Mrs. Houser, the housekeeper, will be able to able to give me good information.”
“Thank you, Wilson.”
He watched the young man leave before glancing at the cluttered desk in front of him. It occurred to him that there might be some communications from his father, something that might give him a better idea of the property—its boundaries, important crops, important villagers, and guests, that sort of thing.
He had already reviewed the stacks of books lining the high walls, trying to envision where his father would have installed a safe. Father did it with all his properties, so they did not have to carry important documents and such on the roads, subject to highway robbers and other hazards. It would be too obvious to have a safe behind the painting. He’d still checked there, of course. But where else?
His gaze wandered up the two stories of books connected by the rolling ladder attached to a track running on the inside of the wall.
Suddenly recalling his own mother’s desk, with the secret compartments designed by his father, he opened the drawers, felt inside to the back, and then reached beneath his father’s desk, feeling around for anything unusual. Nothing.
Feeling beaten, he glanced at the clock and gave up his quest for the night. He wanted to be in the dining room to greet his special guests when they arrived.I’ll come back later and look. There must be something.
Wilson was waiting for him when he got to his suite of rooms.
“I thought I might have to retrieve you, Your Grace. Knowing how you enjoy the study, I feared I had lost you in that one with so much to explore.”
Albert snorted. “You know me well. I quickly realized I would return here to cold bathwater if I didn’t hurry. Father seemed to have maximized the space when he ordered the repairs. It goes two stories up with books. It’s quite a treasure.”
His valet smiled and gestured to the selection of britches and waistcoats lying on the large four-postered bed. “I thought the navy and black brocade waistcoat and black britches would suit, Your Grace.”
“I trust your selections. My only concern is whether we will indeed have any guests. I haven’t heard.”
“I take it you are in favor of the company? Cook thinks they will show and is cooking the selection you requested. I understand it will be a surprise for all,” Wilson said with a perceptive smile, before adding, “She made the young lady’s favorite dessert—baked cinnamon apples.”
“My father always saidno news is good news, so I will cling to hope they will show. I would very much like to get to know the residents here.” Albert especially wanted to know Miss Brianna Thomas. “By the way, ask around discreetly and find out who worked with my father on the renovations for the library. Someone must have carried on his orders in his absence. I’m wondering if there are blueprints. It’s just a curiosity I have, nothing more.”
“It’s certainly a beautiful room, and very unusual in its round design. I’ll see what I can find.”
Perhaps I’ll be able to figure out what this nagging feeling is all about,Albert thought.
*
Brianna dressed andwent to find her mother. She found her dressed, but lying on her daybed, staring at the ceiling.
“Mama, are we ready to go to the manor house?” she asked.
Her mother swiped at her face. “I am not feeling up to it tonight, Bree. I sent word to Cook, and she will send me dinner here.”
“Mama, I hate to go without you,” Brianna whispered, and meant it. She did not want to face the duke alone. He was too handsome by half. Mother needed to be there to ground her.
At first, Brianna had thought about avoiding him, even though she wanted to know him, badly. His nearness made her nervous—pleasantly so, but nervous. And with his persistence about dinner and tomorrow’s visit to the village, she reasoned he was equally determined not to avoid her.
