A smile tugged at her lips, and James allowed his own face to relax into a mirror of her expression. “Yes, I have been wondering what the old place looks like now. I know I’ll be surprised, but I don’t know if it’s because of how much or how little has been done in my absence.”

“Perhaps it’ll be best to keep your expectations low,” Louisa suggested. “Just in case, would you like to set the date for our visit following your own arrival at Nicholls? If there’s, say, a hole in the floor or some such nonsense, we’ll definitely want that repaired before my aunt comes.”

“Not necessarily,” he murmured under his breath.

Louisa shot him a wry look and continued, “She’s bringing her lady’s maid with her as well, of course, and as the maid’s French, she’s very particular. In fact, she reminds me of someone.” She paused in mock contemplation, tapping her chin. “Ah, I know; she rather reminds me of your servant.”

James was relieved by her teasing mood, and, happy to play along, he put up his hands in surrender. “You win, you win. My manservant orders me around, and I think your aunt is quite the most terrifying person I have ever met, just slightly edging out my mother.”

Louisa looked a little surprised by this chain of admissions, so James sought to placate her further. “But if it helps, I don’t truly want to drop her through a floor. Nor any of your other family members, either.”

If he hadn’t known his fiancée to be such a lady, he would have had to describe her laugh as a snort.

“That’s quite a relief, to be sure,” she replied. “We will look forward to touring your home with the utmost peace of mind, knowing that a fatal accident is the furthest thing from your wishes.”

A sharp rap sounded at the door, and Julia burst through it a moment later, panting with hurry, pale hair pulling out of its pins into untidy threads.

“Louisa, you’ll never believe it!” she cried, and then noticed her sister’s companion. “Oh, hello, James; sorry to interrupt you.” She instantly turned red, and rushed on, “That is, not that I expected I would be interrupting anything. I mean, not that you would be doing anything you minded me interrupting. I — um. .”

She wound down into a flustered silence, and James, inwardly laughing to himself, wiped a kind expression across his face. “Was there something you wanted to tell us? Or perhaps just your sister? I would be happy to leave you in private.”

She looked gratefully at him for a moment, then blanched.

“Oh, Lord, no, it concerns us all,” she blurted. “Aunt Estella is here now.”

Chapter 6. In Which They All Quake in Their Boots (or Slippers, as the Case May Be)


“Rot!” echoed a low but piercingly loud female voice as Julia careened into the entrance hall, followed quickly by Louisa and much more slowly by James.

A fabulous sight met Julia’s eyes. A litter of trunks was scattered all across the polished marble floor, one dropped on its side and with its contents spilling out, which appeared to include. . rocks? A slim, proudfaced, black-haired maid stood by in chic black clothing, her expression blank but her arms folded tightly in annoyance. Lady Irving, resplendent in magenta satin and bobbing yellow ostrich plumes, was pacing around and gesticulating wildly. A small green parrot sat on her shoulder, heedless of the fuss and nibbling at a ruby dangling from her ladyship’s earbob.

It hurt Julia’s eyes just to look at it. Her ears, too, actually. She made a mental note never to let that parrot anywhere near them.

Lady Irving continued in stentorian tones, arms flailing. “This is no way to treat a guest. No, better than a guest; your own flesh and blood! Just because a trunk is heavy doesn’t mean your footmen have a right to drop it. In fact,” she bellowed, “you ought to thank me for revealing their shortcomings.”

Now Julia noticed her parents, plastered against the opposite wall of the entrance hall from where she stood. Her mother looked harassed; Lord Oliver merely looked vaguely at his elder sister.

“But why on earth did you bring rocks, Estella? You must know we’ve plenty out here in the country. Good heavens, they give the very estate its name.”

He began to chuckle at his mild joke until he was recalled to the present by his wife’s desperate tap on his arm. “Er, but very sorry about the mess, of course. We’ll have your things packed back up and in order at once, I’m sure. While you’re waiting, would you care to come see some of the animals?”

He at once headed toward the door, domestic difficulties forgotten.

Lady Irving replied witheringly, “I would not care to see your animals, and you know it. And I am perfectly aware of the name and location of your estate, as you also know. I brought this trunk”—here she waved at the offending article—“simply to test the management of your household. It was for the same reason that I came early. I wanted to know what type of treatment I was to expect now that you have no housekeeper. I can see that things have gone sadly to ruin.”

Julia felt sympathy for Manderly, to be so reminded of the loss of his wife, although the butler was far too experienced and correct a servant to betray any unseemly emotion. But she also considered her aunt’s statement to be more than a little unfair, considering the butler and the footmen struggling with the myriad trunks were in impeccable livery, and everyone was standing on the highly polished marble floor of a bright, high-ceilinged entrance hall without a speck of dust in sight. The only flaw Julia could see was the spilled trunk full of rocks her aunt had inflicted upon the poor footmen, whose balance must have been overset by the load as they carried in the inordinate amount of luggage Lady Irving had brought with her.

All right, it was time to say something, since the situation was degenerating and she could see no one else was going to stand up to her blasted aunt — and she meant that adjective with all affection. Lord Oliver was sidling toward the door again, his distant expression clearly showing that his mind had already traveled to the stables, well ahead of his body.

“My dear aunt,” Julia began, stepping forward to make her curtsy. “It is an even greater pleasure to see you every year. And this year most of all, as you’ve so thoughtfully brought a trunk full of gifts from our great capital city. I am so sorry that it was spilled.”

She straightened out of the curtsy and stood, hands folded behind her back, waiting for her aunt’s reply.

Silence reigned for a few minutes. Then, blessedly, her ladyship snorted, and the corners of her mouth crooked into what almost appeared to be a smile.

“Good girl,” she replied. “I like a young miss who can get her point across.”

Emboldened, Julia continued, “It was kind of you to bring a pet for the children as well. Certainly such a parrot as that would do well up in the nursery.”

Lady Irving at once turned a gimlet eye on her and said, “Not a bit of it. You should have known when to stop, my girl. This parrot leaves my shoulder only when my head leaves my shoulders as well. Or,” she corrected herself, “when I change into a dress that doesn’t match his plumage. At any rate, those children aren’t going to pull Butternut’s feathers out and plague the life out of him.

“There are too many dratted children about the place, anyway,” she continued. “Tom,” she rounded on her brother, “didn’t I tell you not to marry a woman with a family? I told you not to marry a woman with a family. But you wouldn’t listen to me, what was it, ten years ago? Twelve?” She tsked, shaking her head. “You should always listen to your elders.”

Lady Oliver gaped at this impolite statement for a moment, then protested. “But, sister, all the small children are new. I mean, Lord Oliver’s and mine. I only had Julia at the time I married your brother.”

“Still,” Lady Irving harrumphed. “You know what I mean. Although,” she continued after a reflective pause, “I think you’ll do very well in London, my Julia, after I’m through with you. You lack polish, but there’s nothing wrong with that. It never hurt me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone ever telling you that you lack polish,” Julia replied honestly. After all, who would dare to?

“No one ever has, but that’s just because they’re afraid of me,” Lady Irving confirmed.

“Pieces of eight,” contributed the parrot, and lunged for the rubies dangling at its side again.

Lady Irving removed the ruby earbob from the parrot’s reach and continued, “Now, don’t think you all can persuade me to give up my rocks. I want this trunk taken upstairs and unpacked, and when we go back to town, I will want them packed again and brought back with me.”

“But why?” asked Lady Oliver, her pale, guileless face showing her confusion.

“To see if you’ll do what I say,” her unexpected guest replied triumphantly. “After all, you have a countess visiting you. Now, if it’s not too much trouble, could I have my things conducted up to my chambers? Naturally, Simone will need an adjoining room of her own to care for me and my wardrobe.”

“We could use those rocks for wall-mending,” Lord Oliver chipped in, suddenly alive to the conversation, as if he hadn’t heard a bit of what had passed before. “Estella, do let us have them. They’ll be just the thing for the wall around the bull’s pen.”

Lady Irving stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then threw up her hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, Tom. Use them if you must.” She shook her head, exasperated. “You people have no regard for rank.”

“I’ll show you to your room at once, Aunt.” Louisa finally spoke up. Was she trying to put a quick end to the situation? Julia darted a sharp look at her sister, but Louisa’s face was as expressionless and sweet as a painting.