Page 30 of An Arranged Marriage with a Mad Marquess
Chapter Ten
They all fell silent when the carriage slowly and grandly turned into a long, wide drive. The silence was for different reasons, of course.
Patrina saw Lady Emma draw herself up, gathering her composure, ready to greet the household and return home. The lady of the manor making a gracious return.
Cynthia was brimming with excitement, peering out of the window, keen to get the first glimpse of home.
It was hard to tell how Neil felt. His expression was smooth and serious, unreadable. He met her gaze once, and gave her a brief, tight smile.
For her part, Patrina’s nerves tightened with each forward rattle of the carriage wheels.
This is it.Her heart pounded wildly in her chest.This will be my home. I’ll have to learn to live here.
What if it’s not what I expected? What if I hate it here?
It doesn’t matter. This is home for me now.
With a twist of the coach, the house came into view. Heart sinking, Patrina saw that the entire household had come out onto the front steps, lining up on either side of grand marble stairs, waiting.
Waiting for her.
The house was every bit as grand and formidable as she had expected, a vast, winged manor with countless windows and no doubt endless corridors and linked rooms for her to get lost in, shuffling red-faced around the house like a nervous visitor.
“This really isn’t necessary,” Patrina stammered, gesturing to the servants, shifting their weight and smothering yawns. “Let the poor servants go inside. It’s cold, they must be freezing.”
She addressed her question to Neil, but it was Lady Emma who answered.
“This is the way things are done, Patrina,” she said coolly. “It is proper. It is respectful. It istradition.I should have been quite furious if we had come back and the servants werenotwaiting to greet the new Marchioness. Now, we shall all climb out of the carriage first, and you shall come out last, Patrina. Do you understand?”
Patrina was rankled by being spoken to in that manner.Do you understand?As if she were a child.
“Of course,” she responded, as calmly as she should.
It was pretty clear that Lady Emma hoped that her daughter-in-law would be as quiet and mild as her own daughter. That would leave Lady Emma as the Marchioness in all but name.
Patrina had already decided that that was not going to happen. She would inevitably find herself at odds with Lady Emma sooner or later, that much was evident.
Not today, though.
She had seen the genuine, anxious concern in Lady Emma’s face when she looked at her son, and the tight worry in her voice when she talked about his poor state of health and the importance of Mr. Blackburn.
Perhaps I should pick my battles. I am not, after all, a physician. Lucy was right about that.
The carriage rolled to a halt. Lady Emma climbed out first, smiling benignly around at the servants. Cynthia came next, then Neil, and then it was Patrina’s turn.
Praying she wouldn’t trip on her skirt and somehow humiliate herself, Patrina climbed out of the carriage and pasted a smile on her face.
The servants all craned their necks to get a good look at her. The lower servants openly stared at her, taking in details of herhair, her dress, the way she walked, whereas the upper servants inspected her more subtly.
Still, there were dozens of eyes on Patrina, and she hated it.
“This is Smith, our butler,” Lady Emma said breezily, gesturing to a tall, middle-aged man in a black suit, “And Mrs. Black, the housekeeper.”
Mrs. Black was a diminutive woman, of the same age as Smith, with a smooth face and a cool expression. They both made bows and curtsies, and murmured greetings.
“I hope you will find everything to your liking, Lady Morendale,” she said, meeting Patrina’s eye squarely. “Please do let me know at once if anything must be changed.”
Patrina was aware of Lady Emma bristling behind her. Of course, Lady Emma would have taken care of running the house, but now thatshewas here, it was meant to be her.
