Page 50 of The Mistletoe Countess
“Did you sleep at all, dear Ellie?”
She shook her head. “It’s gonna take me a few days to get used to my surroundings, and since my bedroom is so far from yours, I got lost on the way this morning or I’d have been here earlier to wake you.”
Sounded like wasted time to Grace, and all the more reason to move the family quarters to the east wing.
The young woman’s gaze met Grace’s. “And I beg your pardon, my lady, but now that you’re a countess and we’re in England, you’re bound to call me by my surname.”
All this title business was exhausting. Grace had already determined to call the elder Lady Astley “Lady Moriah” just to bypass the confusion. Besides, calling one’s mother-in-law “the dowager” sounded a bit too intimidating for familial camaraderie. “But we’re too well acquainted for me to call you Miss Moore.”
Ellie’s shoulders drooped a little farther.
“What about this, Ellie?” Grace stood and drew in a deep breath. “I will call you Ellie when we are in private but Miss Moore in other areas so neither of us will get into trouble.”
She offered a weary smile and adjusted her white cap. “That will do, my lady.”
“I think we both have a great number of adjustments to make, but we’re young and smart.” Grace pushed more confidence into her speech than she felt. In fact, she wanted to drop back down into the bed and hide for a few days like a weak heroine. “We’ll make do, won’t we?”
“If you say so, my lady.” Ellie shook her head and opened the ward-robe, which held some of Grace’s things. “At any rate, breakfast is served in a half hour, so we need to make quick work of getting you ready.”
Grace needed an en suite lavatory immediately.
When he’d found her in the hallway not an hour ago, half-clad in her nightgown in desperate search of the necessary, he inwardly flailed himself for his lack of thoughtfulness. Why hadn’t he considered something so basic? Especially for a woman of means who was used to such conveniences.
Lillias would have thought him barbaric. Grace likely hadn’t considered how insensitive the situation was. If Brandon or Elliott had happened by with her in such a state of undress! Frederick’s neck grew warm at the very notion. Elliott, good man that he was, had only a year on Frederick and no wife of his own, and Frederick didn’t like the idea of any of the male servants seeing something only he should appreciate.
Since he had to go into town to meet with the constable about the incident with the car, he’d take time to consult his local solicitor to inquire after qualified workmen to begin the necessary renovations immediately. He reread the message from the constable, which detailed how an inspector had been notified. Frederick frowned. Hopefully the inspector would do his part to keep the incident out of the public’s knowledge as much as possible.
“You look very intent on something.”
Grace entered the breakfast room clothed in a seafoam-green walking suit, her glorious hair, which had been down about her shoulders in the hallway not too long ago, now sat in some sort of style on her head that highlighted the swan-like curve of her neck. His gaze followed her to her seat, his grin in rebellion again.
He stood. “Good morning, Lady Astley.”
Her smile brightened the entire room. “Good morning, my lord.”
Her gaze landed on something across the room, and as if the dog realized he’d been recognized, Zeus charged directly toward Grace, who had lowered herself to meet him head-on. “Oh my goodness, what a beautiful dog.”
Frederick met Brandon’s wide-eyed expression.
Either Grace’s exuberance had transferred to his dog, or Zeus knew a friend when he met one. The English setter had never grown into his thundering name and remained fairly docile except on rare occasions when provoked.
“This is Zeus.”
She buried her face in his fur as if they’d been long-lost friends. Frederick refused to send a look to Brandon, who was likely shocked beyond words at his wife’s response. “Is he ours?”
“He is.”
“I’m so glad you have dogs.” She smiled down at Zeus, who gave her a solid lick on the nose in return. “They’re much easier to talk to than people.”
A strange sound erupted from Brandon’s direction, but his expression gave no change.
Grace finally stood, trailing her hand across Zeus’s fur one last time before moving to the table.
Brandon assisted Grace with her chair. “Thank you, Brandon.” She took in the dishes of fruit before them. “You have strawberries?” Grace sent Brandon a smile so bright even the seasoned butler stared entranced for a moment. “You must have miracle workers here, Brandon, to find strawberries in December.”
“They’re from the hothouse, milady.” Brandon nodded, face impassive. “Lord Astley mentioned that you were particularly fond of strawberries.”
She flashed Frederick another smile. “He’s so very thoughtful, isn’t he, Brandon?”
