"The green? Oh, no, they were very complementary shades, my dear. Show me." Elizabeth seemed relieved, almost glad to be distracted, and the two of them walked away down the hall toward Miranda's bedroom.
******************
It was a three-day journey from London to Darkwater, for they traveled with a wagon of luggage as well as the post chaise in which they rode, and Elizabeth had a tendency toward travel sickness, which meant that they stopped frequently and moved at a slow pace to avoid jarring her. Joseph spent most of his time riding on a horse alongside the carriage, and since he had purchased another mount, as well, Veronica or Miranda often joined him, which made the journey easier to bear. Even so, the trip was far too long for Miranda's impatient nerves. It had been almost two weeks since she had seen Devin, and she was eager to be with him again. However, this was a feeling she could not reveal to the others; a careless word about her eagerness from anyone in her family to Devin would set her plans back. So she had to contain her feelings and pretend to a calm and relaxation she did not feel, a pretense that only made her more frustrated.
It was a great relief when the post chaise rattled down the lane approaching Darkwater. Miranda leaned out of the window to catch sight of the grand old house. They rounded a curve, and there the house was before them, on a slight rise, most of the trees cleared out of the way years ago to present the house in all its glory.
Miranda drew in her breath when she saw it. Her father pulled his mount to a halt and simply sat there, looking at it. The setting sun cast a golden glow over its limestone block walls, turning the stone itself to a warm, honeyed hue and glittering upon the small diamond-shaped panes of glass in the mullioned windows. It was a house of graceful symmetry despite its size, built in the shape of an E, a popular conceit during the years of Queen Elizabeth's reign, and ornamented with parapets, oriel windows and elaborate chimneys. It was lovely, Miranda thought, immediately losing her heart to it. At this distance and in this kind light, the problems of the house were not obvious. It simply looked old and magnificent.
"Have you ever seen anything like it, Miranda?" Joseph appeared at the window of the post chaise, his face filled with awe and pleasure. "Isn't it grand?"
"It is indeed, Papa. It's beautiful." It struck her, with a pang of pride and pleasure that she had not expected to feel, that this beautiful old house was now her home, and the fairly detached interest she had felt in restoring the place was suddenly a hunger within her.
Veronica, who was also riding outside the carriage, came back to join them. "It's a castle! Are we really going to live there? Mama, look!"
Elizabeth, who was sitting beside Miranda, pushed aside the curtain on the other side of the carriage and looked out. Her eyes widened, and a little color came into her cheeks. "Oh, my," she breathed. "I never realized..."
"Isn't it grand?" Veronica went on merrily. "Doesn't it look like someplace a king would live?"
Elizabeth nodded. "Yes. It does."
“I can't wait to see my room,'' Veronica continued. "Miranda, may I choose which one is to be my room?"
"Yes, I suppose so—though to be polite, you must stay at least tonight where Lady Ravenscar has put you. After that, I don't see why you cannot choose which one you prefer."
"I want windows that look out tins way. I want to see whoever comes up the road. That way, when you have parties—before I'm old enough to attend them, I mean—I can watch everybody arrive from my window. Will you give lots and lots of balls? It must have a ballroom, don't you think?"
"I am sure it does. However, I don't know how many people there are out here to attend 'lots and lots' of balls," Miranda responded, smiling indulgently at her stepsister.
"I will get to go to some parties here, won't I? Mama said that when she lived in the country, girls could attend small parties now and then, even before they made their debut."
"I don't see why not," Miranda agreed. "I am sure your mother is much more of an expert on that subject than I am." Since she herself had been hostessing her father's parties when she was fifteen, Miranda could hardly be said to have lived her life according to the proper social rules.
Veronica dropped back and came up on the other side of the carriage beside her mother to pursue this interesting subject, and Miranda was left to her own thoughts as she gazed at the house as the carriage rolled up to its door. Those thoughts soon turned from the house to her future husband. He had been on her mind the whole trip from London, and now that she was about to see him again, an almost unbearable excitement welled up inside her. She would have given a great deal to know whether he had thought of her, too—and whether he had been waiting for her the past few days, wondering impatiently when she would arrive. It was too much to hope for, she told herself; she had to take this slowly. But she could not keep her heart from hoping anyway.
Their post chaise pulled up in front of the house, and a footman hurried out to open the door and help them down. As Miranda climbed down the carriage step to the ground, she glanced off to the left A horse and rider sailed over a low hedge and thundered on toward them. Miranda's heart began to pound as she recognized Devin's broad-shouldered form. He slowed down, skirting the front garden, and came to a halt a few yards from them.
"Miranda!" Fluidly, he dismounted, tossing his reins to the footman. "I mean, Miss Upshaw."
He strode toward them, his eyes on Miranda. Miranda's pulse was hammering in her ears so hard that she could barely hear. Here, in the sunlight, fresh from physical exertion, his green eyes alight, he was even more handsome than she remembered. It made her feel a trifle weak in the knees.
"Lord Ravenscar," she returned, pleased that her voice came out evenly. Surely his riding hell-bent-for-leather to meet them was a good sign.
“I saw your carriage approaching, so I tried to catch you." He came to a halt in front of her and looked down at her for a long moment. This close, in the bright light of day, she could see that his green eyes had a small ring of gold around the pupil, like a sunburst, and she found the small detail captivating. Stripping off his riding gloves, he reached out, and Miranda managed to recover enough presence of mind to extend her hand to him. He took her hand and raised it to his lips, brushing a kiss on the back of it "Welcome to Darkwater. We've been wondering when you would come. Mother was expecting you yesterday. Rachel was worried you wouldn't even make it in time for the wedding."
"And you?"
His engaging grin flashed. "I knew that you would arrive exactly when you should, neither too early nor too late, since you were managing it."
Miranda chuckled. He continued to hold her hand far longer than was polite, but she had no desire for him to let go. "Your faith in me is touching, my lord."
"It's knowledge, Miss Upshaw, not mere faith." With a final squeeze of her hand, he let it go and turned to the rest of the party. "Mrs. Upshaw. Mr. Upshaw. Welcome to Darkwater." His eyes went past them to Veronica, who was still seated on her horse. "And who is this lovely young lady?"
"I am Veronica," she answered pertly. "I'm the one you never see because I'm too young."
"Too beautiful," he corrected with a grin, and stepped forward to help her dismount. "Your parents are doubtless afraid someone will snap you up far too soon."
Veronica giggled. Miranda knew that Ravenscar had earned himself a permanent place in Veronica's good books by paying attention to her, as few adults did. And, Miranda had to admit, it had raised him in her estimation, too. She had been afraid that he would play the haughty aristocrat with her family, as he had before with her, and she was particularly anxious about Veronica's easily hurt adolescent feelings. But Ravenscar had handled her with just the right tone of flattery and friendliness.
"I'm surprised to see you riding instead of in the carriage," he told Veronica.
"Oh, I love to ride," Veronica said eagerly. "And it's too beautiful to be cooped up inside some stuffy post chaise."
"You are right about that," Ravenscar agreed. "If you like to ride, you will be happy here. Lots of room and, at the risk of sounding arrogant—" he cut his eyes humorously toward Miranda "—our stable is one of the best in the country, I warrant."
"Oh! Can I see the horses?" Veronica asked eagerly.
"Of course. I shall take you on a personal tour tomorrow."
Grooms had arrived to take care of the horses, and the footman was waiting to open the door, so Devin led the group into the house. They stepped inside to find an imposing line of servants, all uniformed and starched, stretching down the entry hall.
Devin leaned down to whisper in Miranda's ear, "Eager to meet the new mistress. They are wondering how hard a taskmaster you shall be. I didn't want to break it to them that you are a tyrant."
Miranda looked up at him indignantly. "I'm not—"
She broke off, seeing the twinkle in his eyes. "I am very kind to servants,'' she whispered back primly. “It is those in a higher position whom I am likely to take to task."
"I am trembling in my boots." His grin belied any truth in his words.
He turned toward the first man in line. “Cummings. Miss Upshaw, allow me to introduce you to the staff. This is Cummings, our estimable butler. And Mrs. Watkins, the housekeeper."
He went down the line of servants, introducing each of them. Miranda was surprised and impressed to find that Devin knew the names of almost all of them, drawing a blank on only the newest and youngest of the group. Miranda would have expected a man like him to have known no one lower than the butler and housekeeper, especially given the fact that he had been in residence there so rarely the last few years. She commented on the fact as they were walking away, having introduced the rest of the family, as well.
"You mean you think I am too arrogant to know the names of the people I grew up with? You have an odd opinion of me, Miss Upshaw."
"I am pleased to find that it is an incorrect one."
He shrugged. "My relationships with the servants was never considered a very sterling quality, I'm afraid. Father always thought it was another manifestation of my basically low character. I spent more time with the head groom and the gamesman and his children growing up than I did with the suffocatingly dull sons and daughters of the local gentry."
"That sounds reasonable."
"Not to my father, it didn't"
Devin's mother and sister were waiting for them in the formal drawing room, a large room decorated in the white-and-gilt style of the century before. It was an elegant room, and it took a second or third glance to notice that the heavy blue draperies and the blue velvet cushions of the chairs and sofa were becoming threadbare, and that the Persian carpet beneath their feet was almost worn through in places.
The occupants of the room rose to their feet politely when Miranda and her family entered. Rachel came forward to greet Miranda warmly, and she, like her brother, gave Veronica a special bit of attention. Lady Ravenscar was formal but polite, as she had been every time Miranda was around her, and she paid only scant attention to Elizabeth and Veronica. Miranda could not help but feel that the woman was making an effort to treat them well because they were going to rescue her from poverty rather than out of any real liking for them. She doubted that she would ever feel really close to Lady Ravenscar.
There was a third person in the room, a tall, slender man with blond hair and gray eyes, handsome in a quiet, subtle way. He smiled now and came forward as Devin said, ' 'Miss Upshaw, allow me to introduce you to my brother-in-law, Lord Westhampton."
"How do you do?" Miranda asked, intrigued. This was Rachel's husband, the one with whom she maintained a formal, separated marriage.
"Very well, thank you. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Upshaw." He smiled down at her kindly. "Lady Westhampton speaks highly of you."
"Thank you."
"I am sure that you must all be wanting to freshen up after your long journey, perhaps take a rest before supper," Lady Ravenscar said. "Rachel, why don't you show the Upshaws to their rooms?"
"Of course."
"I'll take Miss Upshaw," Devin told his sister casually, offering Miranda his arm.
Rachel led the others from the room and up the stairs to the chambers they had set aside for them, and Devin and Miranda brought up the rear. It was hard to take in all the details of the magnificent house, especially with the distraction of Devin's presence so close to her. It was difficult enough to maintain the cool, insouciant attitude that she wanted.
At the top of the stairs, Rachel turned to the right to take Veronica and the others to their rooms, but Devin went in the opposite direction. "Your room is this way. Since the wedding is only a few days away, there seemed little point in making you change rooms." He stopped at the doorway of a spacious room. "This is the Countess's chambers."
Miranda looked in, puzzled. "You mean, your mother's room?"
He smiled at her in a way that made her pulse beat a little faster. "No, my dear Miss Upshaw. I mean the room which connects to mine."
Miranda could feel a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Oh." She walked past him into the room to conceal her reaction.
It was a large room, with two tall windows that looked down on the rear gardens. There was a sitting area with sofa and chair in one quadrant of the room, and further along that wall stood a fireplace with an ornate marble mantel. Between the two stood a door. The room was furnished with heavy mahogany pieces, the most dominant of which was a large tester bed hung with dark-green velvet curtains. A large fading medieval tapestry hung oh one wall. It was an impressive, formal room, one befitting a Countess and one in which Miranda could well imagine Lady Ravenscar having lived. It was not one that appealed overmuch to her.