Read Online Lord of Deceit (Heiress Games Book 2) by Sara Ramsey - Free Book Online

Georgian wings. From a distance, the house looked like something out of a mad fairy tale, with spires and crenellations rising behind the stately symmetry of the newest rooms. It was all surrounded by gardens and outbuildings, follies and fountains, stretching from the house back to the last remaining scrap of the ancient Maidenstone Wood.
    Octavia had known every room, every shrub, and every rock. She had no trouble making her way through the passageways and connecting rooms to the library, which gave out onto a terrace overlooking the gardens. There was an odor of fresh paint and the furniture was as perfectly polished as she had ever seen it. But nothing else had changed in any of those rooms — no artwork had been moved, no carpets replaced. Lucy and Lady Maidenstone had lived there for almost a year since the earl’s death, but it appeared that they hadn’t changed anything at all about their surroundings.
    “Lucy never dared to change anything,” she muttered to herself.
    It was uncharitable to think that. But Octavia wasn’t feeling charitable. It didn’t help that the servants she encountered eyed her with what appeared to be a mix of surprise and unhappiness. She hadn’t expected delight, exactly, but she had thought they might be at least a little warmer toward her than Somerville’s servants had been.
    She raised her chin and marched through the library, opening the French doors to the terrace. She gathered her skirts and took her time going down the steps into the garden. By the time she reached the orangerie two minutes later, her steps had slowed to almost nothing.
    One of the doors was open. She paused outside it, not quite ready for whatever confrontation awaited her. Coming to Devonshire had seemed like a good idea when Somerville had tossed her out. But sitting silent in a carriage for three days gave her ample time to reconsider. She might have turned the carriage around if she had thought of anywhere else that she might have gone.
    But Somerville had already canceled the lease on her townhouse. The furnishings, which were rented, would be gone by now. She didn’t have any friends within the demimondaine who could take her in. Her former friends in the ton wouldn’t look her in the eye, let alone invite her into their homes. She had enough money to survive for a few months, but it wouldn’t last long, especially if she had to pay for lodging. And she wasn’t ready to take a new protector.
    That left Maidenstone.
    And Lucy.
    She stepped over the threshold of the orangerie. Inside, she saw the first evidence of change. Her grandfather hadn’t cared much for horticulture. When Octavia had last seen it, the orangerie had been slightly decrepit, although still functional. Orange trees were planted against the thick brick wall along the north side, shielded from the Devonshire winter and heated from underneath the floors. Sunlight came through the large windows on the south, east, and west.
    But someone had added new enameled stoves on either end of the building that could produce ample heat when necessary. And there were more trees and plants — not just oranges, but lemons and pomegranates, along with smaller, more exotic flowers on long tables down the center of the room. A formerly unused space in the far corner had been transformed into a seating area, lit by tall windows on bright days and a small but charming chandelier on gloomy ones.
    It wasn’t just a garden anymore — it was a haven.
    She knew whose haven it was. Suddenly, Octavia wanted to flee.
    Lucy stood in the center of the orangerie, half-obscured by the plants and tables between them. A blonde woman was with her. They wore simple country gowns covered with aprons, appropriate for digging in soil. Lucy held a pair of pruning shears, sharp enough to look dangerous.
    But from the view Octavia had of her profile, Lucy was smiling. The woman next to her murmured something. Lucy laughed. Her tone was soft, easy. The way she used to