The Hourglass (33 page)

With Genie beside him, this was home.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Come, wife,” Ardeth said, leading her back to the waiting carriage. “Let us start our new life together.”

Genie kept looking back. “Are you sure it will not disappear when we get closer, like some mirage?”

“We are not in the desert.”

“And you swear you did not simply conjure it all up out of moonshine when we arrived?”

“Your estimation of my abilities never ceases to amaze me. I do not know whether to be honored or insulted.” He waved an imaginary wand in the air. Nothing happened. “No, I might produce the occasional coin from an ear or a dove from a hat, if Olive is willing to be powdered, but a castle in an instant? Not likely.”

Not by half. Building that edifice, establishing the earldom and all it represented, had taken centuries, document by document in dying solicitors’ offices, brick by brick at ailing architects’ heart attacks, pound by pound at bankers’ bedsides. Making investments, sending messages, having one’s wishes known, were deuced difficult for a being who did not actually exist, in this world. He had done it. And lived again to see it.

He looked back, too, before closing the carriage door. “Ardsley Keep is permanent now, and it is yours.”

“Mine?” Genie repeated with a gasp.

“I told you. It is mine to leave where I wish. You and the child can decide its fate. Stay and be countess, or make it into a university, or an asylum for the insane. It will be yours.”

Stay without Coryn? She would have to be insane herself. “Ours,” she said. “Yours and mine.”

When they got closer to the castle, Genie was reminded of pictures she’d seen of feudal times, all the serfs and vassals come out to welcome their knightly lord back from some feat of derring-do. Men and women lined the roadway, waving and cheering. Children with their faces freshly scrubbed were tossing flowers in the path of the coach. She half expected trumpets to blare, banners to be unfurled in the breeze, great warhorses with pounding hooves to ride ahead of them.

The crowds acted as if they were greeting a fairy-tale princess. All they were getting was Genie.

She smiled and waved out the window, even though she’d rather hide under Ardeth’s cape. All of these people were looking to her as their lady? “I feel as if I should be wearing ermine and a crown,” she whispered to Miss Hadley.

Ardeth reached across the seats and touched
her hair, the strands that curled beneath a tiny black lace bonnet. “This is glory enough. You are perfect.”

And so she was, because he told her she could be. Head held high, she properly greeted the army of servants lined up at the castle doors—so that was how the place was kept clean—and even thanked them all for their gracious welcome. She tried to memorize the upper servants’ names, and befriended the housekeeper by begging her assistance in finding her way around.

Then they were up the steps and at the door. Ardeth said, “I wish I could carry you over the threshold, my dear, but I doubt that would be wise. What if I dropped you in front of all the staff? They would be so disappointed, we would have to move to China.”

She smiled at that, taking his arm to walk through the door of her new home.

“Welcome, welcome,” a gentleman of late middle years called out. He was bald except for a fringe of white hair, with white eyebrows and a wide smile. “I am Angus Spotford, and I am delighted to meet you, my lady, my lord. An earl and countess at Ardsley, at last! Come in, come in!”

Genie found herself enveloped in a hug, with a buss on the cheek. Ardeth received a firm handshake and a pat on the back. Then Spotford wiped a tear from his eye. “Forgive me, I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Ardeth was wrong, Genie thought. Mr. Spotford was not at all like her father, more like the father she wished she had. He was open and emotional, and she adored him already, regretting she had suspected this kindly gentleman of harboring ill will toward her husband. He was beaming and bowing, blowing his nose. No one could be that good an actor.

The vicar’s widow also adored him, it seemed. Mrs. Newberry hovered at Spotford’s right elbow, adding her welcomes. Her daughters appeared to have laid claim to
Richard Spotford, for they circled him like bees on a flower.

Miss Calverton, the former companion, was effusive in her greeting, and her appreciation of the opportunity to be of service, whatever her ladyship needed. Of course she was not trying to displace Miss Hadley, she said with a curtsy in that lady’s direction. And a tiny cottage would be delightful, if Lady Ardeth found that Miss Calverton was in the way. Genie doubted she could find the woman in this colossus of a house, much less trip over her.

The retired schoolteacher, Mr. Jordan, thanked Ardeth for the use of his magnificent library, the opportunity of a lifetime for a scholar and an admirer of rare books. He had taken the liberty of beginning to catalog the collection in gratitude, and would like to continue, with his lordship’s permission, of course. Now that he had the lottery money, he had no need to work, but this would be a labor of love. He had also been looking over likely sites for a school with Spotty.

Genie looked around for a dog.

“That’s what everyone calls me, Lady Ardeth, Spotty. But you might prefer Cousin Spotford.”

“And you must call me
Cousin Genie.
I find the title is too new to identify me and too ponderous to be comfortable, especially at home.”

He wiped his eyes again when she called the castle home. “Then you do intend to stay? I am so glad. As much as I love the old pile, I cannot add those special touches that make it shine. I think of the Keep as a great painting, my life’s work, if you will, and my father’s before me. But a woman’s touch can make it into a masterpiece. We’ve never had a countess, you see, not that anyone can remember, and my sister’s been bedridden these many years. My wives did their bit, but their hearts were not in it.”

Most likely because they knew it was not theirs, Genie thought. “I am sure you have done remarkably. From what I have seen, everything is perfect.”

“That’s because we had the help of Mrs. Newberry and Miss Calverton. I do not know how we would have managed to get ready for you and Lord Ardeth without them. But Ardsley Keep needs a countess and children and company. Not that we have not been merry as grigs since the lucky ladies arrived and our Mr. Jordan. Ah, but I suppose I should not call them lucky despite the lottery, not with them being in mourning, don’t you know? Of course you do, my dear.” He patted her hand, but a moment of silence was all he seemed to manage. “The village is hoping you’ll take a hand in the parish council and the ladies’ guild, all that kind of nonsense females take such stock in.” He turned toward Ardeth. “And Cousin Coryn—I may call you that, may I not?”

“I would be pleased. It is more like family.”

Spotford laughed. “You’ll wish for a few less kin soon enough. Be warned that the church needs a new roof, the poorhouse does not have enough firewood for the winter, and the village is without a fire bell, a physician, and a posting inn. I must say everyone but the children is delighted we will have a real school soon, and everyone, including the children, has an opinion on how it should be run and where it should be located. I told them not to bother you your first day here, but I would not be surprised to find the drawing room full of petitioners, all with good cause, naturally, tomorrow. I have been putting them off the last month or so, thinking the decisions should be yours to make. It is your money, after all. Oh,
and whenever you wish to inspect the estate books, I am at your service.”

“There is no hurry. I know you have done an exemplary job.”

Spotford grinned with pride. “Born to it, don’t you know? And my boy takes after me.”

“Your elder son?”

His smile faded a little. “No, Richard. My firstborn goes his own merry path. He means no disrespect by being late. Nor does my sister. She seldom leaves her rooms.”

“None taken. After all, we were not sure when we would arrive.”

“We expect Fernell any minute. He’s riding hell for leather right now if I know the boy, but he must have stopped off at a mill or a cockfight, unless he met with an accident. He sent his valet on ahead with the baggage yesterday.”

Richard Spotford stepped out of his bevy of young girls rather than let his father fret about the absent Fernell. “But I am eager to show you the farms, sir. Whenever you wish.”

“Now don’t overwhelm his lordship,” Spotford warned. “He’ll want to rest and settle in before facing more gadding about.”

Ardeth disagreed. “I have been looking forward to seeing every square inch of the estate since my return to England. For many, many years before that, in fact, in my efforts to get home. I would have been here sooner, but
I had to take care of financial and diplomatic tasks
before
I could leave London. And I did run into a bit of trouble.” He rubbed his shoulder where Spotford had embraced him.

“Heard about that, we did,” the older man said. “Country living will fix you up, all right and tight. Mustn’t overtire yourself first off, though. The land is not going anywhere.” He rapped his knuckles on the paneled wood wall. “Nor this place.”

“No, it is not, is it?”

Spotford looked as if he did not know what to make of the earl’s question, but he smiled and said, “Well, you are here now. Cook has prepared a feast for later, but I told her to be ready to put a meal on the table in case you missed breakfast. No? Then maybe you want to see your rooms. I was staying in the master’s suite like my father and his father always did. No reason not to, eh? But I moved out as soon as word came that you were found. Installed new bed hangings and that kind of thing.” He turned to Genie. “I did not refurbish the mistress’s chambers, not knowing your tastes, my dear, but the rooms are clean and fresh. The girls—the Newberry girls, that is—have been picking flowers since dawn.”

She saw bouquets everywhere, bringing the country inside. No matter what Cousin Spotford said, the house—or castle—was warm and appealing. “I am touched at your efforts,” she said. “All of you.” She really was. For the first time in her life she truly felt welcome, wanted. She was not her parents’ second, less-attractive daughter, nor Elgin’s second-choice wife. She was Lady Ardeth, coming home. Her husband looked pleased and proud, adding to her happiness.

“Keep! Keep!” came a squawk from atop a suit of armor in the hall, where Olive had been perched, waiting to see what dangers lurked in the new surroundings: cats, dogs, maids with brooms. His cry drew exclamations, especially from those who had not seen him in the city, but
no one complained against a dirty bird in the house or difficulty breathing. Seeing no peril, hearing no orders to sleep in the stable, the crow set off exploring, swooping and soaring in avian excitement, spreading his wings without worrying about predators or wind or obstacles in such vast open areas.

The humans followed him on a tour of the public rooms, which Genie found to be old-fashioned but fitting the character of the house. Cousin Spotford was right about a woman’s touch, because the furniture was heavy, the fabrics were dark, and the knickknacks few. This was definitely a masculine abode, except for the bowls of flowers. Some of the draperies and wall hangings could use refurbishing, Cousin Spotford admitted, but he hadn’t liked to spend the estate income on rooms that were seldom used. Now she could make the choices. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her opinion. Hers! “Oh, I will not be in a hurry to make changes,” she said, “until I am familiar with everything. I like the feel of history to the rooms,” which earned her a nod from Ardeth and another grin from Cousin Spotford.

“I was worried, I must admit, that you’d want to decorate in that new Chinese style that’s all the kick, or, worse, the Egyptian craze with alligator-leg chairs and mummy cases for end tables.”

She laughed. “I doubt my husband would be happy looking at a sarcophagus in the sitting room.”

No, he’d seen enough of the damn things.

Spotford was going on: “You’ll want to see the nursery. My boys left it years ago, and no one’s been in it since. I thought we’d better wait on that, too. Females get fussy about their nests, don’t you know.”

He winked at her, making no comment about the fatherhood of the child, just expressing happiness that a baby would be in the house again.

Genie could feel tears in her own eyes.

When they had finally seen most of the house—not the attics or the cellars, which were extensive, Spotford promised—the others finally left Ardeth and Genie alone. The tour had ended at their rooms, an entire corridor of their own, with connecting sitting rooms, dressing rooms, bathing rooms, and bedchambers. There was even a small, sunny sewing room and a separate cozy parlor with walls of bookshelves.

“Do you like it?” Ardeth asked outside the rooms that would be hers. He seemed anxious, awaiting her reply.

Genie did not know if he meant her room or the entire house. No matter, she loved it all. And him for bringing her here, although she could not say that, of course. She was so happy that she threw herself into his arms and hugged him, trying to be careful of his injuries. “Not only is the Keep wonderful, every square acre of it, but I have never felt so at home.”

“Me, neither,” he said, twirling her around as if he had never been wounded. “This is worth everything.”