Page 78 of Lady for a Season
He followed her, noting how confident she was at Atherton Park now, how she did not hesitate at every staircase or turn her head this way and that as they went down the corridors, fearful of being lost, uncertain of which rooms were behind which doors.
She stopped outside a set of doors that had brought dread to him for years. He took a step backwards. “Maggie…”
“Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Close your eyes. Please.”
He wanted to say no, but he could not refuse her hopeful sweetness. He sighed and closed his eyes, stood still and waiting, felt her hand take his, her warm skin against his, pulling him forwards. He took one step and another, trusting that he was safe, focused only on her hand clasping his. They had so few opportunities to touch.
“Now you may look,” she said, letting go of his hand and he opened his eyes.
For a moment he frowned, unsure where he was. The heavy dark panelling, the dark-red walls, the bulky bed, they were all gone. The room had been entirely redecorated, the walls now a bold sunshine yellow, the panelling stripped away. The new four-poster bed was still large but more delicately made, with hangings of gold velvet and crisp white bedlinen covered with a silken bedspread woven with a woodland theme, butterflies and flowering vines sprawling across a yellow background.
“And your other rooms,” Maggie said eagerly.
“Lead me,” he said, wanting her hand in his again.
His dressing room had papered walls, pale yellow with handpainted scenes of woods, with deer and a tiny stream along the very bottom.
“You had them paint a frog?”
“Two actually,” she said, laughing. “Come and see your study.”
His study was a pale green and here again the furniture had been changed, no longer the heavy bullish desk of his father but a more graceful writing table and chair. A large globe on a table, maps of Buckinghamshire and the world on the walls, the curtains a deep green velvet that made the room cosy but allowed in the bright sunlight.
“Is it different enough?”
Her hand was still in his and he raised it to his lips, kissed it, wanting to keep his lips on her warm soft skin forever. “It – they – are perfect.” He lowered his voice. “Youare perfect.”
She pulled her hand away, but her smile was sad. “They are your rooms,” she said, her voice soft. “They are the Duke of Buckingham’s rooms, and that means they are yours. I left instructions while we were away, and Mr Wilson had it all done to surprise you.”
“I will sleep here tonight,” he promised her. “I will have the servants bring all my things here. Joseph will not know how to thank you.Ido not know how to thank you.”
“You already have,” she said and the hand he had kissed clenched by her side. “Seeing you claim your rooms is thanks enough.”
“I will miss you being next door though,” he said.
They stood in silence for a moment, aware of the space between them and how vast it was about to grow, yet how easy it would be to close it, only one step forward by each of them…
Edward took a step back. She was too close to him, he wanted only to reach out and hold her, no, more than that, he wanted to lay her down on the golden silk coverlet behind him, amidst thebutterflies and flowers and hold her close to him, unfasten her hair and…
“I will sleep here tonight,” he repeated. “Ring for Joseph.” If someone else did not enter the room soon, he would not be able to restrain himself.
She stepped away from him, her cheeks flushed and rang the bell, cleared her throat. “I am so glad you like the rooms,” she said. “They will be something to remember me by. When – when you are married.”
It was too much. “How am I to marry if it means losing you–” he began, but behind him the door opened, and Joseph stood waiting. Edward swallowed. “Joseph, you will have my possessions moved into these rooms at once,” he managed, though it came out more brusquely than he meant it to.
“At once, Your Grace. And… Her Grace has asked for your presence in the drawing room.”
He did not want to go, he did not want to leave her, but staying was impossible. “I will see you later,” he managed.
By late Tuesday afternoon all the guests had arrived and there was a fluttering of valets and ladies’ maids come twilight, as every lord and lady must be dressed in their finery for the grand dinner, held not in the usual dining room within the main house, but in the one adjoining the ballroom, which had seating for fifty. Lady Godwin lent her own maid to Miss Belmont, so that she was attended by two ladies’ maids, in order that nothing should ruin her chances. It was fully expected that some time before the grand ball there was to be a proposal, that, after the party, Miss Belmont would leave Atherton Park only briefly as its future mistress, the future Duchess of Buckingham. She must be presented at her very best, at every moment, for all eyes would be on her.
Down the staircases they came, glittering jewels and silks,perfume and tight cravats, carefully sorted into their proper ranks in the drawing room, ready to enter the dining room.
Maggie watched them all, caught the endless glances of the guests at Edward and Miss Belmont. Everyone was waiting for the announcement that the tiny mouse had somehow snared the prize stallion of the season. Astonishing and yet agreeable, there could be no possible objection, for Miss Belmont was wealthy in her own right and from a family of impeccable breeding.
