An Unlikely Debutante. Laura Martin
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drive curved away to the left through immaculately kept lawns and disappeared over a dip with no house in sight. Swallowing her nerves, Lina pushed herself to enter the grounds of Whitemore House, aware of the pounding of her heart in her chest.
When the house did come into view, set back at the crest of a small hill with the drive sweeping dramatically in front of it, Lina had to stop and pause for a second. Then she laughed out loud. It was easily the biggest building she had ever laid eyes on and Raul had taken her into London twice and York once over the course of their travels. It was perfectly proportioned, one central structure with two symmetrical wings flanking it, all in a beautiful sandy-coloured stone.
After more than ten minutes of walking, Lina finally reached the front door and was self-consciously adjusting her dress as it opened before her.
A middle-aged man greeted her with a tight smile.
‘Miss Lock, I presume?’
Lina nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.
‘Follow me, please.’ His words were delivered with a disdain that shook the nervousness from Lina. This was the reason she disliked the aristocracy. They were obsessed with the idea of respect and good manners, but treated anyone inferior as if they were at best a nuisance and at worst an inanimate object, to be used and discarded. Even their servants were rude.
‘So are you a member of the family, then?’ Lina asked, making sure she added a coarse quality to her voice as she spoke. She stepped over the threshold, trying to take in the vast entrance hall, the marble flooring and the perfectly sculpted statues that sat in recesses dotted along the walls.
‘Most certainly not. I am Lord Whitemore’s butler.’
‘So a servant. Strange, that.’
The butler looked down at her from his superior height.
‘What is strange?’ he asked eventually with a long-suffering sigh.
‘Well, I always thought servants were meant to be polite. To be a shining example to make their masters proud. But you, you’re ruder than a cow that hasn’t been milked for a week.’
‘I beg your pardon,’ the butler stammered. Lina half expected his face to turn bright red, but instead his cheeks seemed to lose colour and his lips were pressed thin. ‘That sort of language won’t be tolerated, Miss Lock.’
‘Ah, but it will. See, I’m an invited guest and you are a member of staff.’
‘The Marquess will hear about this.’
‘Williams, what is all the noise about?’ a soft, feminine voice called and was shortly followed by the emergence of Lord Whitemore’s sister from one of the many doorways that led into the grand entrance hall.
‘Please forgive me...’ The butler was silenced by a friendly wave of the hand and Lina felt herself being swept into the embrace of the slightly older woman.
‘Come, come, you must be tired from your journey. I have tea set out on the terrace. In the shade, of course, the sun does dastardly things to my complexion,’ Lord Whitemore’s sister gushed. The journey had taken less than three hours and Lina had experienced many more arduous days, but she allowed herself to be swept along by the other woman’s enthusiasm.
‘Thank you...Lady Whitemore?’ Lina ventured.
‘Dear me, we haven’t even been properly introduced. I am Lady Georgina Pentworthy, Alex’s long-suffering and completely devoted sister.’
‘A pleasure to meet you, Lady Pentworthy.’
Georgina shook her head very slightly and laughed. ‘Why don’t you call me Georgina, my dear? Much simpler than trying to untangle which part of my name to use when.’
They walked through a room filled wall to wall with books. Lina had never seen anything like it and paused for just a second to take in the dozens of bookshelves that lined the walls, full of heavy, leather-bound books. It made her much-treasured and battered three-book collection seem rather insignificant.
‘I am so pleased you agreed to come and stay,’ Georgina said, squeezing Lina’s arm lightly. ‘These next few weeks are going to be so much fun.’
‘Would it not have been better for you if I refused?’ Lina asked. ‘Then you would have won your wager straight out.’
‘Don’t tell my darling brother, but I don’t really mind if I win this wager or not. It’s the journey that is going to be the important part.’
‘The journey?’
Georgina motioned to a seat on the terrace, behind a table that looked out over the formal gardens directly behind the house. An assortment of mouth-watering pastries and a delicate china tea set were laid out and Lina wondered if Whitemore’s sister had been waiting on her arrival.
‘My brother is a very accomplished man, very talented,’ Georgina said slowly whilst pouring out a fragrant cup of amber-coloured tea. ‘But he has buried himself in his work for the last few years and I’m hoping you will be able to coax him out.’
Lina took a sip and eyed up the pastries, relieved when the other woman slipped two on to her own plate and motioned for Lina to take her pick.
‘How am I supposed to do that?’ This wager was becoming more complicated by the minute, what with Uncle Tom’s expectations of her and now Georgina’s hidden motives.
‘He will have to take a break, look up from his work and focus on something entirely different. To get you ready to attend a London ball you will have to go shopping, go for day trips, socialise at some local functions...’
‘Does Lord Whitemore not do all that already?’
Georgina grimaced. ‘He does,’ she said slowly. ‘But suffice it to say even if his body is in attendance, his head and his heart are not.’
Taking a bite of a crisp, fresh pastry Lina closed her eyes and savoured the mouthful. She wondered if she had ever tasted anything so delicious in her entire life.
‘How am I meant to influence that?’ Lina asked, putting down the pastry before she spoke so she would not shower her companion in crumbs.
‘Just by being here.’
It seemed like a lot of responsibility and as Lina gulped down the hot tea, she felt a stirring of unease. She liked Georgina, she seemed warm and genuine and hadn’t condescended to Lina once during their conversation. Despite their obvious differences in status and wealth Georgina was talking to her as if she was a treasured friend, not a gypsy girl whose main talents were a little fancy footwork and telling lies to impressionable young girls.
‘Please don’t fret,’ Georgina said reassuringly. ‘I’ll be here to guide you these first two weeks and after that I’m sure you’ll run rings around my brother.’
Lina wasn’t so sure. She knew she had a lightning-quick tongue, but sometimes she was too hot-headed, too fast to jump into a dangerous situation. From what she had seen so far Lord Whitemore had that easy manner of many men of his class, but also a cool, self-possessed quality and the self-assurance to go along with it. Lina wasn’t sure how well her usual tricks would stand up when pitted against Lord Whitemore’s imperturbable logic.
Two children came dashing across the lawn and Georgina stood to gather them in her arms. First to arrive was a boy of about five, followed by a smaller girl, who tottered to keep up, but still managed to outrun the exhausted-looking nursemaid who trailed behind.
‘My darlings, how I have missed you,’ Georgina gushed, peppering the two small children with kisses until both were rolling around, giggling and squirming out of her reach. ‘Now, William, Flora, we have a guest. This is Miss Lina Lock. She will be staying with your uncle for the next few weeks.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Miss Lock,’ William said, his words accompanied by a formal little bow. His expression was serious, as was his tone, and for a