Chapter 16
They arrived at Albury House an hour before luncheon. At Frederick’s order, Hughes had sent a rider up to town at daybreak to advise the household of their anticipated arrival. Amid all the unexpected drama, Stacie had forgotten that this would be her first visit to Albury House as its new mistress, a fact borne in on her as, bowed in with a flourish by Fortingale, she set foot on the hall tiles and found the staff lined up to greet her.
She smiled and stepped up to the task. When she reached the end of the line, just enough time remained to refresh themselves and shake the dust of the journey from their clothes before luncheon would be announced.
With a subtly expectant smile flirting about his lips, Frederick led her to the marquess’s apartments, which dominated one corner of the first floor. He opened the door, glanced inside, then stepped back and waved her in.
She stepped over the threshold—and laughed. Delighted, she looked all around the large room, then glanced over her shoulder at her remarkably clever husband. “I take it red wasn’t previously your preferred color?”
With an acknowledging dip of his head, he closed the door and joined her. “Until now, red hasn’t featured in my color choices.” His long fingers found her hand; gently gripping, he raised it to his lips and lightly kissed her knuckles. “But it’s your favorite color, so in that sense, it’s now mine as well.”
The room had been redecorated in garnet red; rich, sumptuous velvets and heavy brocades toned wonderfully with the dark walnut of the furniture. Indeed, the room was both masculine and feminine; she could easily see him lounging in the bed or in one of the comfortable chairs, but she also felt entirely at home
—that this room encompassed the meaning of the word.
She met his eyes. “It’s lovely.” Her lips lifted in a deliberately seductive smile. “I feel I should reward such thoughtfulness.”
He appeared to consider it, then sighed. “Sadly, with Mama, Emily, and Ernestine eagerly awaiting us downstairs, I regretfully suggest all demonstrations of your gratitude would best be delayed until tonight.”
She laughed. “Very well, my lord. Tonight it is.” She turned toward the minor door he waved her toward. “For now, we’ll have to be content with making ourselves presentable.”
They did and, subsequently, descended to the dining room and weathered a luncheon that had patently been designed by the cook and Mrs. Macaffrey to rival anything Mrs. Hughes and her team had placed before them.
After growing used to sharing meals with Frederick alone, Stacie found it a trifle disconcerting to have to actively make conversation. She managed to avoid giving any undertakings regarding possible activities for her afternoon, but allowed the other three ladies to indulge in as much speculation as they wished.
When they rose from the table, Frederick made his excuses and departed for his meeting at the museum.
Stacie accompanied the other three ladies to her mother-in-law’s private drawing room.
Halfway across the room, the dowager paused and looked at Stacie. “By rights, this room should become your domain, my dear. I would be happy to shift to using one of the smaller rooms…?”
“No need.” Stacie smiled confidently. “I’m perfectly content that this room remains primarily yours, Mama-in-law.” She was surprised by how easily the title tripped off her tongue and immediately saw how much her use of it had pleased Frederick’s mother. “Provided, of course, that I may join you here.”
The dowager closed a hand on Stacie’s arm and gently squeezed. “You will always be welcome, my dear—never doubt it.” She released Stacie and waved them to the chairs; the dowager sank into one of the armchairs by the fireplace, Emily and Ernestine shared the chaise, while Stacie claimed the second armchair.
As soon as she’d settled, the three older ladies fixed eager eyes on her. “Now,” the dowager commanded, “tell me—how did you find Brampton Hall?”
Stacie was happy to satisfy their curiosity on the subject, although her unvoiced refusal to touch on anything to do with her and Frederick’s relationship caused a certain level of disappointment.
From the corner of her eye, she kept watch on the clock. When the hands stood at two-thirty, she concluded her description of Mr. Camber, who the dowager knew of but had never met, and stated, “Ladies, I must call on my sisters-in-law and let them know I’m back in town.” She rose. “Especially with Felicia so near her time, I wouldn’t want them to suppose I was still in the country and too far away to summon if there’s a need.”
“Oh, indeed. You must let them know,” Ernestine agreed.
The prospect of an imminent baby obliterated any disappointment the three ladies might have felt. The dowager looked quite pleased. “We’ll look forward to hearing whatever news there may be over dinner tonight.”
Stacie left them, hurried to her room, summoned Kitty, and gave orders for the town carriage Frederick had said she might use to be brought around, then when Kitty returned, changed into one of her more fashionable walking dresses.
For the visit she was about to make, she wanted to look her best.
By the simple expedient of asking her modiste while being fitted for her wedding gown, she’d learned that Lady Halbertson lived at Number 9, Farm Street. After allowing Fortingale to instruct the coachman to take her to Raventhorne House, she waited until the carriage was on South Audley Street and nearing the corner of Mount Street before rapping on the roof and giving the coachman her revised destination. She fully intended to call on her sisters-in-law, but first, she had a suspicion to either confirm or refute.
She’d spent the hours traveling to town mulling over the possible motives for the incidents at Brampton Hall and had accepted that there was a distant chance that she herself had been the intended target on both occasions. While she considered such a scenario extremely unlikely, it was one she could check, given that the only person who might have reason to attack her was Lady Halbertson.
Stacie had to own to a worm of jealousy where Frances Halbertson was concerned. Her ladyship had known Frederick before Stacie had, and now that she more fully comprehended the sensual delights her husband could bestow, she had to wonder if Lady Halbertson’s gentle and unthreatening demeanor cloaked a more devious nature. If, for instance, her ladyship harbored an ambition to do away with Stacie and inveigle Frederick into marriage once the position of his marchioness was, again, vacant.
Stacie didn’t want to believe that of Lady Halbertson, but having grown up observing her mother and her cronies, she knew how much duplicitousness could lurk behind a charming façade.
She trod up Lady Halbertson’s steps at a few minutes before three o’clock—a time when the lady should, with any luck, be at home. The parlormaid who answered the door confirmed that was so and, on being given Stacie’s title, without any show of consciousness, invited Stacie inside and showed her into the small drawing room, then went to fetch her mistress.