Page 39 of The Heiress's Daughter
Zoë gave her a sheepish smile.
“And you must both call me Lucy,” Lady Thornton continued, “because I know we are going to become firm friends. Now, Zoë, you must come and meet my adorable nieces. I hope you like cats.” Linking her arm through Zoë’s, and chattering away in French, she led the way back toward the large plane tree that dominated the east part of the garden.Clarissa followed with Lady Tarrant, who was walking more slowly.
Lady Tarrant gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry about the slow pace. It won’t be long now.”
Clarissa hugged her arm. “I don’t mind. I’m thrilled for you.”
Just then Lady Tarrant’s middle stepdaughter, Lina, just turned eight, came rushing up. “I didn’t know where you were. You shouldn’t go off alone,” she told her stepmother severely.
“I was with Lucy,” Lady Tarrant said mildly.
Hugging her stepmother’s other arm, Lina beamed across at Clarissa and said proudly, “Did you know, Miss Studley? We’re having a baby!”
Clarissa smiled at the little girl. Lina’s protectiveness toward her stepmother was adorable. “How wonderful. Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”
Lina shook her head. “Papa says it doesn’t matter which, that whoever we get we will love him or her the same.” She added, “But I already have two sisters, so I would rather we have a baby boy.”
Lady Tarrant said, “Well, I hope whoever it is decides to come along soon. I’m tired of feeling like an elephant.”
“You’re not like an elephant at all,” Lina said fiercely. “You’re more beautiful than ever—Papa says so, and Papa is always right.”
Lady Tarrant laughed softly, then bent and kissed Lina lightly on the head. Lina, beaming, snuggled closer.
Clarissa swallowed a lump in her throat. Oh, to have a family like this, and a husband like Lord Tarrant, who so openly adored his wife and daughters…
“Are your niece—er, your goddaughter and her husband staying long in England?” Clarissa asked.
Lady Tarrant smiled. “She’s both my goddaughter and my niece by marriage, but it’s confusing, I know. Gerald—that’s my nephew—is in the diplomatic service and wassummoned back from Vienna. He seems to think he might be being considered for a post in Paris.”
“How exciting.”
“Yes, he’s done very well, I believe. He was in the army before, you know, but sold out once Napoleon was finally defeated.”
“And then he joined the diplomatic corps?”
“Yes, he stayed long enough to court and marry Lucy—quite a whirlwind affair it was, too—and then they went off to Vienna. After his years in the army, society life didn’t appeal to Gerald—though if you ask me, diplomatic life isn’t much different from the ton. It’s still all dinners and dances and meetings and boring speeches, but I suppose there’s a deeper meaning and a purpose behind everything—a kind of ongoing social chess match. At any rate, they’re happy, which is what counts. Now, let’s see what those children are up to. I’ve ordered tea and cakes to be served inside in half an hour.”
“Buongiorno, Lord Randall.” Matteo, Leo’s majordomo, bowed. “What can I do for you, milor’? You know, of course, that Lord Salcott is still away—”
“Yes, I know, Matteo.” Race stepped into the entry hall and handed Matteo his hat. “It’s not him I’ve come about. I want access to the garden.”
Matteo looked at him a moment, and then broke into a smile. “Ah,sì, of course. You wish to see the young ladies.”
Ladies? Plural? Race shrugged it off. Matteo’s English was improving in leaps and bounds, but it was by no means perfect yet. “Er, yes. That butler of Lady Scattergood’s refuses—”
“Say no more, milor’. Matteo, he know that butler.” He rolled his eyes then gestured toward the back entrance. “This way, milor’. And you want refreshments brought to the summerhouse? Alfonso, he like to practice making English-style cakes for the young ladies.”
“Some other time, I think,” Race said. “Miss Clarissa might not be there.”
“She go in the garden most mornings, milord. She like to gather the flowers with the, the…morning water still on them.”
“Dew.”
“Sì, that is the word.Prego, milor’.” Matteo gestured for Race to go ahead.
Race entered the garden via Leo’s back gate. It was a sweet setup, this garden, with only the residents of the houses that enclosed it having access. Privacy was precious in this increasingly crowded city.
He glanced around, listening for the sound of voices, but heard only the sound of the breeze in the leaves, the buzzing of bees and the sound of birds. He checked the summerhouse, but it was locked and empty. The rose garden then; he’d heard her say once that roses were her favorite flowers.
