Perhaps that was why he took his own room, because of her pets. It was hard to know his mind, for he was a reserved sort of gentleman, speaking to her of general things, like whether she was comfortable in the carriage, and whether she preferred the roasted or sauced meat.
All through the inn’s delicious dinner, she stole glances at him and thought about lovemaking. He would be good at it, wouldn’t he? June had assured her he would know what to do. He did seem to be good at a great many things.
The next day seemed interminable, for she was anxious to get to Somerton and settle in, and smell some fresh, bracing country air. They arrived late in the afternoon, so when the carriage rolled into the courtyard, the grand country mansion was outlined in the rich, golden fire of a setting sun. It was majestically designed, with imposing columns and a tiered Romanesque fountain in the courtyard. She drew in a breath as she noted the surrounding fields and forests. Though the trees were bare and the fields wintry gray, the property seemed as wild and beautiful as he’d promised.
As she peered out the window, great numbers of household staff emerged and stood on a grand set of stairs to greet them. She felt tired and travel worn, but when Lord Townsend helped her down the carriage stairs, she forced a smile for the smartly attired servants.
It became a real smile at their welcoming applause. Her husband introduced her as the new Lady Townsend—which would take some getting used to after spending her entire life as Lady Jane. Her personal maid, Matilda, was there, having arrived days earlier with the bulk of Jane’s trunks and luggage. She came forward with the housekeeper, a Mrs. Loring, who invited her to come inside and have a hot cup of tea while her husband supervised the unpacking.
And oh, she wanted to go inside and see if it was as grand within as without, but she needed to tend to her animals. “I must go to the stables first and help move my pets into their new enclosures,” she said.
“You’ve brought your pets?” asked Matilda, eyes going wide.
“Lord Townsend said I could, as long as they weren’t in the house.” Jane set off after the carriage, feeling a bit less than a proper lady in front of the assembled staff, who’d probably expected her to float inside and collapse on a fainting couch.
She was not the fainting-couch type, and they might as well know it from the start. When she arrived at the large, domed stables, she scanned the spacious interior to see horses being groomed and fed, and luggage disembarked by the light of stolid iron lamps. She saw her pets’ new enclosures ready and waiting near a warming stove, each cage crafted of glass, wire, and polished, shining wood. What a beautiful job they’d done following her directions!
Then she saw a stable boy peer into Mr. Cuddles’ traveling box and drop it with an alarmed cry. The lid popped open and her startled snake slithered out.
Chapter Five
Setting Expectations
The uproar happened so fast, Townsend hardly knew how it started. A man yelled, “Snake! Snake!”
Another yelled, “Adder! Viper!”
“No,” his wife cried. “It’s not a viper, it’s a python. Don’t hurt it. It’s my snake.”
Her snake? He saw a dash of yellow and white, a curving streak shooting across the stable’s center aisle. If it was a snake, it was unlike any he’d seen. For a moment, everyone froze and stared except for Jane, who ran after the thing, arms outstretched. “It’s mine,” she said again. “He won’t harm anything. He’s only looking for a place to hide and be safe.”
The snake darted under the door of the last stall, the largest one containing his most rambunctious stallion. Whether from the shouting or the sudden appearance of a slithering reptile, the beast began to stamp about.
“Oh, no,” said Jane. “No, no, no.”
He shouted as she ran toward the stall. “Stop, Jane. Take care!”
Between his yelling, the groom’s exclamations, and the stallion’s agitated snorting, the noise rose to a fever pitch as his harebrained new wife yanked open the stall door and entered to try to retrieve the snake.
“Jane, come out of there at once.” By the time he reached her, she was alongside his horse, bending down, combing through the straw. “You’ll be injured. For God’s sake, he’ll trample you. Are you listening to me?”
“Mr. Cuddles will die if I don’t catch him. He can’t survive winter weather.”
She was in tears, oblivious to the stallion’s increasing agitation. Townsend grabbed for reins that weren’t there, trying to settle the horse. “There now, Gallant. Down. Please.”
The damned snake darted between the corner walls, trying to find a way out of the stall. As he watched, helpless, his wife fell to her knees to trap the snake just as Gallant reared up.