woman,” Celia said after Ursula had gone.
“In what way remarkable?” Anthony asked.
“Many of the young women I know, including my own sisters, are supremely self-absorbed, spending all their time, all their energies on themselves. Miss Browne seems to think only of the well-being of others: the orphaned children, the tenants, your mother and father, even your brother. She is a truly good person.”
“I suppose you are right. She is always the first one to lend a hand when someone needs help. Are you quite sure you wish to get involved in her projects?”
“Yes, I am sure. That is, if you have no objection?”
“I don’t mind in the least.”
“I’m pleased, because as lovely as it is to be here, I did find myself with time on my hands this morning.”
“That will soon change. When our guests begin to arrive, you will have much to occupy you. As far as this afternoon is concerned, I have it all planned.” He took her hand and drew her from her chair. “Come along. We are going to fetch a pelisse for you. I have ordered the curricle to be at the door in fifteen minutes.”
“Where are we going?”
“I want to show you the house where we will live, after we are married.” These words were uttered quietly but with great intensity. The intimate nature of his words, combined with the passionate warmth in his eyes, made Celia blush.
Before she could think of anything to say, he drew her into his arms, holding her slight frame close against his tall one. “I know I should resist the temptation to tease you, but I find your blushes delightful, my dear Celia.”
He bent his head and placed a gentle kiss upon her willing lips. “Once you have toured the house,” he continued, “it will be easier for you to imagine us there together. Then, perhaps, you will be put to the blush less often.”
He pulled her arm through his and guided her into the great hall. “We must hurry; we should not keep the horses standing overlong.”
Seated comfortably in Anthony’s curricle, racing along behind a well-behaved pair of glossy chestnuts, they traveled in a westerly direction for nearly an hour. Eventually they turned off the post road onto a beautifully curving drive through a heavy beech wood. They emerged from the woods into a clearing of carefully scythed lawn. Across this expanse of green, backed against a wood aflame with autumn color, stood Merton Hall, a three-story structure of mellow red brick.
A large house by most standards, the Hall was small in comparison to the vastness of Walsh Priory. This fact alone made Celia’s first view of her future home appealing. Nevertheless, the knowledge that she would soon be mistress of this great establishment was intimidating, for though her mother had taught her well, she knew that there was an immense gulf between instruction in housekeeping and the actual job itself.
As they pulled to a stop before the house, she said earnestly, “I want more than anything to make a proper home for you, Anthony, but I am not . . . I have never—” She broke off, not certain how to continue without sounding foolish.
As a groom jogged up to take the horses’ heads, Anthony took her hand in his. “I know you have never done it before. I have never been a husband before. Why can we not learn as we go? It will be an adventure.”
His smile was so infectious, Celia found herself smiling, too. And as she smiled, her heart lightened, for she knew he meant every word. She suspected that he had a sweetness of nature uncommon in men, and she felt prodigiously lucky to have linked her future to his.
Chapter 6
When Celia and Anthony arrived back at the Priory, they discovered that Lady Walsh’s sister had arrived. They found her supervising the disposition of her copious baggage in the front hall.
“That trunk goes to my room, but this square parcel—be gentle with it, young man! It contains delicate porcelain: a gift for Lady Walsh. If you jostle it so, it will be nothing
“In what way remarkable?” Anthony asked.
“Many of the young women I know, including my own sisters, are supremely self-absorbed, spending all their time, all their energies on themselves. Miss Browne seems to think only of the well-being of others: the orphaned children, the tenants, your mother and father, even your brother. She is a truly good person.”
“I suppose you are right. She is always the first one to lend a hand when someone needs help. Are you quite sure you wish to get involved in her projects?”
“Yes, I am sure. That is, if you have no objection?”
“I don’t mind in the least.”
“I’m pleased, because as lovely as it is to be here, I did find myself with time on my hands this morning.”
“That will soon change. When our guests begin to arrive, you will have much to occupy you. As far as this afternoon is concerned, I have it all planned.” He took her hand and drew her from her chair. “Come along. We are going to fetch a pelisse for you. I have ordered the curricle to be at the door in fifteen minutes.”
“Where are we going?”
“I want to show you the house where we will live, after we are married.” These words were uttered quietly but with great intensity. The intimate nature of his words, combined with the passionate warmth in his eyes, made Celia blush.
Before she could think of anything to say, he drew her into his arms, holding her slight frame close against his tall one. “I know I should resist the temptation to tease you, but I find your blushes delightful, my dear Celia.”
He bent his head and placed a gentle kiss upon her willing lips. “Once you have toured the house,” he continued, “it will be easier for you to imagine us there together. Then, perhaps, you will be put to the blush less often.”
He pulled her arm through his and guided her into the great hall. “We must hurry; we should not keep the horses standing overlong.”
Seated comfortably in Anthony’s curricle, racing along behind a well-behaved pair of glossy chestnuts, they traveled in a westerly direction for nearly an hour. Eventually they turned off the post road onto a beautifully curving drive through a heavy beech wood. They emerged from the woods into a clearing of carefully scythed lawn. Across this expanse of green, backed against a wood aflame with autumn color, stood Merton Hall, a three-story structure of mellow red brick.
A large house by most standards, the Hall was small in comparison to the vastness of Walsh Priory. This fact alone made Celia’s first view of her future home appealing. Nevertheless, the knowledge that she would soon be mistress of this great establishment was intimidating, for though her mother had taught her well, she knew that there was an immense gulf between instruction in housekeeping and the actual job itself.
As they pulled to a stop before the house, she said earnestly, “I want more than anything to make a proper home for you, Anthony, but I am not . . . I have never—” She broke off, not certain how to continue without sounding foolish.
As a groom jogged up to take the horses’ heads, Anthony took her hand in his. “I know you have never done it before. I have never been a husband before. Why can we not learn as we go? It will be an adventure.”
His smile was so infectious, Celia found herself smiling, too. And as she smiled, her heart lightened, for she knew he meant every word. She suspected that he had a sweetness of nature uncommon in men, and she felt prodigiously lucky to have linked her future to his.
Chapter 6
When Celia and Anthony arrived back at the Priory, they discovered that Lady Walsh’s sister had arrived. They found her supervising the disposition of her copious baggage in the front hall.
“That trunk goes to my room, but this square parcel—be gentle with it, young man! It contains delicate porcelain: a gift for Lady Walsh. If you jostle it so, it will be nothing
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