Page 4 of Every Duke Has His Thorn
She automatically picked up the pot and poured tea into a cup. “Your Grace?”
“One sugar,” the duke replied in a voice as rich as her morning chocolate.
Marina added the sugar and set the teacup on the table in front of the duke, quite relieved her hand wasn’t shaking. She poured tea for her father and for herself. She pulled a small notebook and Borrowdale pencil from a pocket in her carriage dress, opened the notebook, and looked expectantly at her father.
Her father took a sip of tea before saying, “Your Grace, I have the list of repairs you thought necessary from our recent correspondence. Do you have anything further to add? My first order of business will be to inspect Barton Hall.”
“I haven’t come across any other concerns. My housekeeper should be along shortly to give you a tour of the house.” Despite his clipped tones, the duke’s voice was pleasant to hear. He took a long swallow of tea before placing his cup back on the tea tray. “Excuse me. I have business matters to address. Enjoy your tea.”
The duke got to his feet, strode across the hardwood floor, and exited the room. Instead of commenting on the duke’s abrupt departure, Marina sat forward to survey the contents of the tea tray.
“This looks a lovely treat.”
There was an abundance of sandwiches, beef hand pies, and tea cakes on the tray. Her mouth watered. Their nuncheon at a coaching inn near Brindle had consisted of bread, cold beef, and cheese. Sustenance, but not particularly tempting.
She sampled a warm hand pie. The filling tasted exceptionally fresh, as did the pastry. “Lovely!”
“We should be assured of a few good meals at least,” her father responded after finishing off his own hand pie. “Although some of these great men can be quite miserly.”
As they ate, Marina gazed about the room.
The Jacobean plasterwork over her head appeared in relatively good condition, as did the oak paneling on the walls, now darkened with age. “Were there any items in the drawing room on the list of repairs?”
Her father shook his head. “Not to my recollection. I advised the duke in one of my letters that I would inspect the house myself and inform him if additional work was necessary.”
“Of course.” Finished with her pie, she took a sip of fragrant tea before rising to her feet to take a turn around the room. After a moment, she commented, “The paneling is inlaid in the Italian style.”
Her father replied, “The paneling craftsmen were local. The plasterers came from Yorkshire.”
“There is a piece just here that looks loose.” She made a note of it in her notebook. “It is hard to tell, but I believe it was removed quite recently.”
Her father got up to take a look at the area she pointed to. “Yes, a panel was definitely removed and then replaced,” he said before retaking his seat.
“You can see the date 1604 on the ceiling in several places among the grapes, acorns, and pendants.” Marina spent the next few minutes inspecting the mullioned and transomed windows.
“The hall has all of its original windows,” her father commented.
She nodded. “These look to be in excellent condition.”
There was a knock at the open door. Turning, Marina saw a tall, thin older woman enter the room.
“Good afternoon. I am the housekeeper, Mrs. Barnes. Your baggage has been delivered to your quarters in the dower house. Sir Joseph, would you prefer to see your quarters now or tour the house?”
“I would like to look over the house,” her father replied, not surprisingly.
“And your secretary will accompany us?” Her tone of slight disapproval was at odds with the housekeeper’s blank visage.
“But of course,” her father answered lightly.
After her father got to his feet, Mrs. Barnes walked to the left corner of the room, where she opened a door. Marina and her father followed the woman into the next room.
“This is the library. All of the rooms on the ground floor are paneled.”
The paneling looked less ornate in the library, as was the plasterwork on the ceiling.
A moment later, they walked from the library into a square passageway with two staircases. The housekeeper explained that one was for the family, the other for servants. One end of the corridor led into the entrance hall. Mrs. Barnes walked across the passage and through an open door.
“This is the dining room. It was originally the great hall when the house was built.”
