The Christmas Countess. Adrienne Basso
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made her feel like an honored guest.
No sooner had Rebecca removed her bonnet than a housemaid arrived, setting a pitcher of hot water beside the porcelain basin, along with a pile of clean, fluffy towels.
“Whenever you are ready for luncheon, Miss Tremaine, just pull on the bell rope and someone will come and show you the way. Or you can have a tray prepared and brought to your room, if you prefer.”
“I think I shall join the rest of the guests after I have changed out of my traveling clothes,” Rebecca decided. “By any chance, do you know where my brother’s room is located?”
“The single male guests are housed in the west wing of the manor. Shall I have a footman bring him a message?”
“Yes, please. Ask my brother to fetch me before he goes downstairs.”
The housemaid curtsied, then left. As she departed, the personal maid that Daniel insisted Rebecca bring along arrived. Her presence momentarily flustered Rebecca, who was not used to such attention. For most of her life she had managed to dress and undress herself on her own. On the occasion that help was needed, the family’s housemaid, Anne, was pressed into service.
But Daniel was adamant that she arrive with a proper maid, and he with a proper valet, and Rebecca decided it was easier to agree than argue the point. Her maid, Maureen, was a pleasant middle-aged woman who seemed to have a considerable amount of experience in the position and knew a great deal about women’s fashions.
She tactfully suggested which gowns would be most appropriate to wear for the afternoon, and Rebecca selected a simple ivory lace-over-silk day gown. Maureen then deftly produced the accompanying accessories.
After fixing Rebecca’s hair, the maid set about unpacking the rest of Rebecca’s clothes, sorting out which gowns would need immediate attention and hanging the remainder in the armoire. Even though he had repeatedly assured her he could easily afford it, Rebecca felt a pang of guilt as she viewed the expensive new wardrobe that Daniel had insisted be ordered for the house party.
Once it was over, where in the world would she ever wear such lovely, fashionable garments? Perhaps she could repay her brother’s kindness and generosity by acting as his hostess, though she assumed the majority of his social interactions would involve his business ventures and might not even require the presence of a woman.
Deciding that was something she would broach when they were alone, Rebecca answered the knock at her door. It was Daniel, with a footman in tow, coming to escort her downstairs. The casual luncheon the dowager countess had mentioned was being served in the long portrait gallery and Daniel had wisely brought the servant along to guide the way.
When Rebecca and Daniel arrived, they were greeted by a crowd of nearly thirty people, though the gallery was so large and spacious it could have easily accommodated a hundred more.
Long, white linen–covered tables were laid out with covered silver trays and large platters of every type of food imaginable were placed upon them. Arrangements of red and white hothouse roses lent color and fragrance to the room, adding a festive touch. Guests were busy helping themselves to the artful buffet and then finding seats among the smaller round tables that were set near the windows so everyone could enjoy the view of the rolling countryside.
“Do you think the informal arrangement was planned for our benefit?” Daniel asked. “No doubt in this exalted company we would have been seated far below the salt at a formal setting.”
“Goodness, I had not even thought about it,” Rebecca replied, wishing her brother had not found yet another thing for her to feel nervous about.
Her eyes anxiously scanned the room and she was further disappointed to discover there were no children in attendance. It was not unexpected, yet she had hoped for a chance to see Lily again as soon as possible.
They joined the group clustered around the buffet, made their selections and started toward one of the round tables when they were waylaid by a middle-aged man carrying two goblets of wine.
“Tremaine! What a delightful surprise. I had no idea you would be here.”
“Lord Bailey, hello. This is a lucky occurrence. May I present my sister, Miss Rebecca Tremaine.”
“Charmed.” Lord Bailey bowed elegantly from the waist, simultaneously lifting the goblets filled with wine higher in the air. Rebecca was impressed that he did not spill a drop.
“Won’t you join us? Selby and Reynolds are here too. If you have a mind, we’d like to discuss that mining operation in Cornwall. We all have questions we are hoping you can answer. You are invited too, Miss Tremaine, though I cannot vouch for how interesting you will find our conversation.”
Rebecca noticed Daniel glance longingly at the table filled with men. He would not willingly abandon her and yet she thought it might be the best thing for his mood if he spent some time talking business.
“You go ahead, Daniel. I have spied Lady Marion on the other side of the room and will happily join her.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, go.” She smiled with encouragement, then excused herself and deliberately headed toward the table where Lady Marion and another woman were seated before she could lose her courage.
“Miss Tremaine, you are here!” Lady Marion exclaimed. “How delightful. Please, take a seat.”
The words were courteously spoken, but the grin on Lady Marion’s face was genuine and welcoming, making the invitation sincere. She introduced the woman seated next to her as Lady Charlotte, the earl’s sister. She was a plain-featured woman, with an oval face and brown hair that was topped by a lace-edged spinster’s cap.
After a breathless greeting, Lady Charlotte shyly cast her hazel eyes down to her plate. But her smile had been sweet and kind. Rebecca gratefully joined them.
All the food that had been piled on her dish looked appetizing, but Rebecca found her nerves compelled her to push the food about on her plate while making a pretense of eating. Fortunately, the other two women did not appear to notice.
“I do hope that Cameron has invited some eligible gentlemen this year,” Lady Marion said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Christmas is one of the best times of year to indulge in some serious matchmaking.”
“Not with me!” Lady Charlotte looked horrified at the notion.
“Of course with you. And with Miss Tremaine.”
Rebecca was glad she had not just put a fork filled with beef in her mouth, for she surely would have choked.
“But it is December,” Lady Charlotte sputtered. “The marriage mart has ended.”
“Don’t be so silly. Husband hunting is a year-round pastime,” Lady Marion insisted. “Thankfully, there are not too many young misses in attendance, which makes it much better.”
“Not for me.” Lady Charlotte met Rebecca’s eyes with a panic-stricken gaze. “If there were a few pretty young girls here you would concentrate your efforts on them and shift your attention away from me.”
“And me,” Rebecca chimed in, hoping Lady Marion was teasing. The very idea of being matched with any of these exalted gentlemen set her teeth on edge.
“Oh, posh, young misses can be so boring and grating on the nerves,” Lady Marion said. “Most have a tendency to giggle and titter like hens around a rooster when in the company of an eligible man. ’Tis maddening and most unbecoming.”
“Ah, I believe we have found our escape from this matchmaking nightmare, Lady Charlotte. We need to learn to giggle and titter.” Rebecca smiled, more confident now that Lady Marion was being lighthearted and amusing.
“Titter?” Lady Charlotte repeated, lowering her gaze. “Oh, dear.”
“Yes, and we must learn to cackle also, for a loud cackle will surely drive everyone in the vicinity mad,” Rebecca added, warming