‘That desire to kiss the soil of your new home is very flattering, my dear.’ Oh, than
k goodness, he is smiling still. ‘Or was it me?’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Now that is flattering.’
And the smile was still there in his eyes and his hand stayed on her arm as he waited for her mother to be helped down by the footman. He kissed her hand, shook Step Papa’s. ‘Welcome to Calderbrook. I hope you will regard this as your second home from now on.’ He set her hand on his arm and turned to face the front of the house. ‘Time to review the troops, Sophie.’
‘How many are there?’ she whispered as they walked across the gravel.
‘It is the full set, inside and out, right down to the mole catcher and the boot boy, so a hundred, more or less,’ he murmured back. ‘Don’t worry, I’m still learning names myself, there won’t be a written examination before dinner.’
He had her laughing by the time they reached the staff and suddenly it was easy to smile and exchange a few words with Renshaw the butler, Mrs Fairfax the housekeeper, Mr Oakes the Steward and Monsieur Colbert the chef. Sophie stopped halfway up the steps and addressed the blur of faces looking down at her. ‘Thank you all very much for making me feel so welcome. I cannot pretend that I will learn everyone’s name immediately, so you must forgive me if I have to ask once or twice.’
That was greeted by a murmur, then someone down on the gravel beside the steps threw a battered hat in the air. ‘Three cheers for our new duchess!’
‘That was well done,’ Cal murmured as they finished the climb, cheers ringing in their ears. ‘You are obviously a natural.’
Footmen overtook them on either side, threw open the doors, and Sophie stepped over the threshold.
‘I cannot carry you, not this time, or I might just keep going up the staircase – ’
Whatever improper thing Cal was about to murmur in her ear was drowned out by the clatter of small feet running across the marble floor.
‘Papa!’
‘Isobel, slow down.’ Cal stooped to pick her up but the child swerved to a halt, her bottom lip stuck out as she glowered up at Sophie.
‘It’s you.’
‘Yes. I am very pleased to meet you again, Isobel,’ Sophie said warily, with as much warmth as she could muster. She didn’t know much about small children, but this looked like a tantrum in the making
‘I’m not pleased to meet you.’ Dark eyes flashed. ‘Papa said I was getting a new mama, but I don’t want one. And I don’t want you.’ And with a stamp of her foot she had whirled around and was running back towards the shadows under the stairs.
‘Isobel! Come back here this minute,’ Cal bellowed, then, when there was no response he swore softly under his breath. ‘I apologise for that. Perhaps I should not have told her yet, but I thought it would make things easier.’
‘She is very young and she is jealous, I expect,’ Sophie said calmly. And I thought I only had to learn to be a wife and a duchess. I thought the child would be the easy part.
‘Her mother’s child,’ Cal said with an edge to his voice. ‘She should apologise to you, of course, but this might not be the moment.’
‘No, no I do not want her to apologise. We will pretend that did not happen and she and I will begin again next time we meet.’
‘As you wish. We can discuss this later.’ Cal moved into the hall allowing in a knot of footmen, followed by the butler, steward and the housekeeper ushering in her parents. Everyone else, she assumed, had made their way to entrances at the side or back. At least only two footmen had witnessed that little scene, although doubtless it would be all over the house come dinner time.
‘Mrs Fairfax?’ The housekeeper came forward, bobbed a curtsey. ‘Please be so good as to show Lord and Lady Elmham to their suite. I will look after Miss Wilmott.’ He turned to her mother. ‘We have an hour until luncheon, I hope that is sufficient for you to relax a little after your journey. A footman will come and escort you to the dining room when it is time.’
In the face of such smiling firmness her parents allowed themselves to be carried off by the housekeeper, her mother sending her a look that combined delight, warning and mild alarm all in one lift of the eyebrows and a faint shrug.
‘Miss Wilmott?’ Cal offered her his arm and strolled towards the foot of the stairs. ‘I should, of course, be taking you to a guest room next to your mother’s. I am, however, going to install you in the duchess’s suite now so you can tell me if there are any changes you want making before the rooms become yours. Very shocking, of course.’
‘It is?’ It was certainly a surprise.
‘Wait and see.’ Cal led her up the staircase, along a broad corridor to the other side of the house and opened a door in front of them into another passageway running at right angles. ‘These are our private rooms.’ He waved a hand at the row of doors, walked to almost to the end of the left hand branch of the passage and opened one. ‘Your bedchamber.’
Cal stood back to allow her to walk in and Sophie went immediately to the window. ‘Oh, how lovely.’ Spread out before her was parkland and clumps of trees, a herd of fallow deer grazing and the sparkle of water, half-concealed by the swell of the land. She turned, running one hand down jade green silk curtains and then turned a slow circle on the great rug spread out in the centre of the room – all pinks and greens and faded gold. ‘I love it.’ She perched on the end of the bed and leaned back on her hands to admire the plasterwork of the ceiling, then the panelled walls. Her favourite painting would go there, her Chinese silk shawl would be perfect draped over that chair…
Cal strolled in, closing the door behind him and propped one shoulder against the delicate carved bedpost. ‘I see it has you approval.’
‘Oh yes. I may be marrying you simply for my bedchamber, Your Grace. But why is it shocking?’
‘Connecting doors, inside as well as those outside. Although actually it is more of a series. That is the door to your dressing room, but that, on the other side, is to your sitting room, which leads to my sitting room and then my bedchamber. Of course, it is such a walk that I am thinking of installing refreshment tables at intervals otherwise I may be too weak to do more than fall at your feet when I get here.’