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Dukes might do as they pleased, but the same thing wasn’t true for lady’s maids. She had no excuse for peeking behind doors and nosing into corners as if this were her home, yet here she was, creeping about like a pickpocket eyeing a gold watch.
Phillippa had ordered her to remain in her bedchamber in the servants’ quarters while she, Cornelia and Beatrice rested from the long journey. If she had any sense at all she’d have done as her stepmother bade her, but good sense never led to anything amusing.
When would she ever have another opportunity to explore such a grand estate?
Never, so as soon as she’d dropped her tattered valise on the narrow bed she was out the door and tiptoeing down the staircase.
Goodness knew she needed a bit of an adventure after four endless days trapped in a carriage with Cornelia, who took all the space for herself and never ceased fretting for the entire journey, despite everything being arranged specifically for her convenience.
Dear God, what a drive that had been! She’d begun to despair of ever escaping that carriage. After such a penance as that, she deserved this brief wander around the castle. Soon enough she’d return to her quarters, and Phillippa would never be the wiser.
Fortunately, none of the other guests were wandering about. The grand entryway was deserted aside from one housemaid, who paused her dusting to give Stella a curious glance when she reached the bottom of the staircase. The girl didn’t speak to her, but it didn’t seem wise to linger, so she marched down an adjacent corridor as if she knew precisely where she was going.
That was her first mistake. Four corridors and a half dozen turns later and she was lost. She’d passed a breakfast parlor a few turns back, across from the main staircase, hadn’t she? If she could find her way back there, it would be simple enough to retrace her steps to her bedchamber.
As it turned out, it wasn’t simple at all. The breakfast parlor and the main staircase appeared to have vanished into thin air, and after another dozen fruitless turns she was no closer to her tiny attic room than she was half an hour earlier.
She wandered blindly from one corridor to the next, the beamed ceilings seemingly miles above her and the paneled walls closing in on her with every step. Once or twice, she heard the faint echo of voices, but it was impossible to tell which direction they came from. When she tried to follow them, she only became more confused.
No one appeared, not even a servant.
Eventually she found herself at one end of a long corridor with a checkerboard of black and white marble on the floor and handsome arched doorways that led to extensive formal gardens outdoors.
The corridor seemed to go on forever, but gradually it widened until at last she came to an ornate stained-glass doorway. The air was thicker here, damper, and through the door she could just make out an ornate structure of wrought iron and what looked like thousands of pounds worth of glazing.
A conservatory? She’d never seen a proper conservatory before. She’d only ever been inside Lady Bastable’s conservatory in Chester, but to her disappointment it wasn’t truly a conservatory so much as a breakfast room with a great many windows.
It stood to reason that the Duke of Hawthorne’s conservatory would be terribly grand, as befitted a duke. There was no harm in taking a little peek inside, surely. No one ever had to know, and she’d come this far, hadn’t she? She’d never forgive herself if she didn’t get just a tiny glimpse of it.
She grasped the handle and pushed, and the heavy door swung slowly open.
She stumbled to a halt, her mouth falling open on a gasp.
She’d never seen anything like this before! It was another world entirely, one scented with roses and citrus and bathed in rainbows of light.
“Oh, my.” She turned in a circle, her breath catching.
Floor-to-ceiling arched windows dominated one entire wall, but ordinary glazing wouldn’t do for the Duke of Hawthorne. No, the top third of his windows were fitted with intricate pieces of colored glass in a pattern of flowering trees, the tiny white blooms scattered among the leaves glowing in the late afternoon sun.
Was there any place in the world as lovely as this? She’d never seen so many growing things in one place in her life!
She hardly knew where to look first.
Bright pink bougainvillea bloomed next to vibrant orange and blue birds of paradise, and alongside the profusion of colorful flowers there were figs and passionfruit, and olive trees with their shiny silver leaves. There were even a few new citrus trees with lemons no bigger than the tip of her thumb.
She hardly dared to breathe as she crept down the checkerboard pathway past a collection of blooming orchids. She rounded a deep bend, and on the other side of it was a … dear God, was that a pond?
It was. A circular pond, a fountain at its center spurting a sparkling stream of water. The pond’s surface was covered with a profusion of water lilies, their pointed petals a delicate shade of pale purple.
Settees and small, wrought-iron tables were tucked snugly among all the growing things, and she gave in to the temptation to lounge on one of the apricot-colored velvet chairs and inhale the fragrant air.
She couldn’t linger, of course. Phillippa would go mad if she knew her orders had been disobeyed, but it was so lovely here, and so utterly outside of anything Stella had ever experienced before.
A few moments more wouldn’t do any—
“Such industriousness this afternoon! I’m pleased to find you all so contented with your new home.”
She jumped to her feet, her heart vaulting into her throat. Not five paces away from her, leaning over a collection of woven straw baskets, was a man, half hidden behind a spray of palm fronds.
