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Authors: Bronwen Evans
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house. “Has everyone else gathered, or shall we wait until later?”
“I did expect you earlier this afternoon—thank you for sending the note. I thought you would be riding down first thing, not taking the carriage, because my missive explained how urgent the situation was.” Hadley was directing them toward the formal drawing room. “The others have finished dining and are relaxing over a drink.” He turned to Beatrice. “As this is your wedding day, Lady Beatrice, would you prefer to freshen up before meeting everyone?”
“Perhaps a few minutes to freshen up would be appropriate.” She needed to calm her racing nerves. As a daughter of a baron, she’d been brought up with wealth, but nothing like this. The house was almost as intimidating as her husband.
The entrance hall was almost as large as her mother’s entire house. The grand staircase dominated the entrance, rising on and on up into the many stories of this grand castle, and there were so many chandeliers it reminded her of a ballroom.
Hadley introduced her to Lord Markham’s butler, Andrews, and the portly housekeeper, Mrs. Tucker, who stepped forward and beamed a good-natured smile. “Newlyweds, how lovely. I would be happy to show Lady Coldhurst to her suite,” she said.
With a polite smile at Sebastian, Beatrice allowed Mrs. Tucker to lead her upstairs. The housekeeper must have sensed her nerves, because she filled the silence as they made their way up several flights of marble stairs: “Lord Markham is to be married tomorrow. Two lots of newlyweds—how marvelous! Bless my soul, since his burns at Waterloo, I thought we’d never see this day. And now … I would never have believed Lord Coldhurst would beat him to it. I suppose the gentlemen are coming to that age where the need for family and children is prominent in their minds.”
Beatrice didn’t know what to say to that, for the housekeeper was probably correct. It was the reason Lord Coldhurst had agreed to her proposal so quickly.
It seemed an eternity of walking down rosewood-paneled corridors lined withhuge portraits of the former Earls of Markham, so many twists and turns she’d never remember the way back, before they came to a wing of the house on the south corner. Sunlight flooded the landing from three very large arched stained-glass windows depicting Christ’s Last Supper. She gave a shiver in the warm glow.
The bedchamber she was shown into was opulent to the extreme, with its red and gold brocades and damasks, and walls hung in watered silk.
Mrs. Tucker indicated a door on the far right. “That leads to Lord Coldhurst’s suite. He always has these rooms when he stays with his lordship.”
Beatrice momentarily wondered whom Sebastian had previously shared this room and bed with. Why she should care she had no idea.
She couldn’t, however, repress a small shudder when she glanced at the huge bed sitting in the middle of the room. Averting her gaze, she swept her eyes to the other side of the room and took in the large fireplace where a plush chaise lounge and a pair of Chippendale wing chairs sat before the fire. For refreshment, decanters of brandy and sherry rested on a side table, while on another table, between two tall windows, stood a vase filled with beautiful roses.
“We were not expecting Lord Coldhurst to bring company. It will take but a moment for one of the servants to get the fire lit and your gowns unpacked.”
“There is no rush, the sun has been shining all day and the room is quite warm.” Or maybe it was the sudden heat sweeping her body at the thought of sharing a bed with Sebastian.
To take away some of her nervousness, she walked across the room and bent to smell the fragrance from the roses.
“If you will permit me, my lady, I will fetch warm water for you to wash. Would you like some refreshments and a little bit of supper served in your room, or would you like to join the others in the drawing room immediately? I can bring a
“I did expect you earlier this afternoon—thank you for sending the note. I thought you would be riding down first thing, not taking the carriage, because my missive explained how urgent the situation was.” Hadley was directing them toward the formal drawing room. “The others have finished dining and are relaxing over a drink.” He turned to Beatrice. “As this is your wedding day, Lady Beatrice, would you prefer to freshen up before meeting everyone?”
“Perhaps a few minutes to freshen up would be appropriate.” She needed to calm her racing nerves. As a daughter of a baron, she’d been brought up with wealth, but nothing like this. The house was almost as intimidating as her husband.
The entrance hall was almost as large as her mother’s entire house. The grand staircase dominated the entrance, rising on and on up into the many stories of this grand castle, and there were so many chandeliers it reminded her of a ballroom.
Hadley introduced her to Lord Markham’s butler, Andrews, and the portly housekeeper, Mrs. Tucker, who stepped forward and beamed a good-natured smile. “Newlyweds, how lovely. I would be happy to show Lady Coldhurst to her suite,” she said.
With a polite smile at Sebastian, Beatrice allowed Mrs. Tucker to lead her upstairs. The housekeeper must have sensed her nerves, because she filled the silence as they made their way up several flights of marble stairs: “Lord Markham is to be married tomorrow. Two lots of newlyweds—how marvelous! Bless my soul, since his burns at Waterloo, I thought we’d never see this day. And now … I would never have believed Lord Coldhurst would beat him to it. I suppose the gentlemen are coming to that age where the need for family and children is prominent in their minds.”
Beatrice didn’t know what to say to that, for the housekeeper was probably correct. It was the reason Lord Coldhurst had agreed to her proposal so quickly.
It seemed an eternity of walking down rosewood-paneled corridors lined withhuge portraits of the former Earls of Markham, so many twists and turns she’d never remember the way back, before they came to a wing of the house on the south corner. Sunlight flooded the landing from three very large arched stained-glass windows depicting Christ’s Last Supper. She gave a shiver in the warm glow.
The bedchamber she was shown into was opulent to the extreme, with its red and gold brocades and damasks, and walls hung in watered silk.
Mrs. Tucker indicated a door on the far right. “That leads to Lord Coldhurst’s suite. He always has these rooms when he stays with his lordship.”
Beatrice momentarily wondered whom Sebastian had previously shared this room and bed with. Why she should care she had no idea.
She couldn’t, however, repress a small shudder when she glanced at the huge bed sitting in the middle of the room. Averting her gaze, she swept her eyes to the other side of the room and took in the large fireplace where a plush chaise lounge and a pair of Chippendale wing chairs sat before the fire. For refreshment, decanters of brandy and sherry rested on a side table, while on another table, between two tall windows, stood a vase filled with beautiful roses.
“We were not expecting Lord Coldhurst to bring company. It will take but a moment for one of the servants to get the fire lit and your gowns unpacked.”
“There is no rush, the sun has been shining all day and the room is quite warm.” Or maybe it was the sudden heat sweeping her body at the thought of sharing a bed with Sebastian.
To take away some of her nervousness, she walked across the room and bent to smell the fragrance from the roses.
“If you will permit me, my lady, I will fetch warm water for you to wash. Would you like some refreshments and a little bit of supper served in your room, or would you like to join the others in the drawing room immediately? I can bring a
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