Page 29 of Lady Waldrey’s Gardening Almanac for Cultivating Scandal

Candace nodded. “Very sorry to arrive without notice, Mrs...?”

“Mrs. Penn. Housekeeper.” She smiled. “But I’m afraid the master isn’t at home at this time.”

“Yes,” Candace said, even as Vera shot her an amused look. “I’m his sister, Lady Candace Waldrey, and this is my dear friend, Miss Vera Ashbury. We’ve come for an extended visit.”

The woman reared slightly back. “You’ve come to stay.”

“Indeed.” Candace gave a nod. With effort, she kept the smile on her face.

She didn’t want to be rude, but this was taking longer than she would have liked. Candace was exhausted and sore from several long days of travel, not to mention the constant, pressing humiliation of her current situation.

On top of that was the rolling, nauseating knowledge that her broken engagement was even now being savored in wallpapered drawing rooms, even more than the biscuits the ladies ate while gossiping about her.

Candace shifted with impatience—she couldn’t help but think that if she and Vera had arrived unannounced to her brother’s house in London, they would have already been ushered into a sitting room and offered tea and watercress sandwiches.

“Come in, come in!” the woman scolded as if they were standing outside on the stoop by choice. “You must be travel-worn and hungry.”

Much better, Candace thought, following the neatly dressed woman into the entryway.

The front door led directly into the intersection of three long, wide halls. Candace glanced right and left, then ahead—each hallway had its own staircase. The floors were all paved in the same dark flagstones as the front steps.

It was a large country house, with practicality and symmetry appearing to be of high importance to the original builder. The thick walls were interrupted at regular intervals by wide glass windows, each of which had two sets of thick wooden shutters—interior and exterior—thankfully all thrown open to the sunshine.

The effect was one of refined simplicity—at least, as simple as one could call a huge manor house that had been passed down through nobility for a couple hundred years.

“Family and guest bedrooms are up the stairs to the right.” Mrs. Penn nodded at one of the three wide staircases visible from their vantage point. “Formal visiting rooms, dining room, library, and ballroom to the left. Kitchens and servants’ quarters straight ahead. It’s a grand old house, but you’ll have the layout in no time.”

She walked briskly as she spoke, pointing out various paintings of previous owners as she led them toward a room with closed doors. She opened them with great ceremony, and Candace and Vera followed her into a large sitting room with windows all along one side. The light and view of the garden were unsurpassed—it would have been quite impressive had the garden consisted of more than a patch of overgrown weeds and a long-dry birdbath.

Still, the furniture was large in scale and of fine quality, and there was plenty of it, arranged in a charming order—two separate sitting areas, each centered on one of the large stone fireplaces that flanked the room. It appeared to be the kind of room that would comfortably host a large party of gentlemen just back from the hunt as they warmed themselves with some of the amber liquor in the impressive sideboard. Candace could just as easily imagine a crowd of elegantly attired ladies enjoying tea in the morning light.

Candace nodded her approval, both of the furnishings and of the fact that the room appeared assiduously clean. She could see her own reflection in one of the thin sofa-back tables that held various elegant trinkets. Though Mrs. Penn hadn’t been expecting them, she hadn’t needed to pull white sheets off the furniture.

“May I offer you tea? Sandwiches?”

Candace removed her gloves and chose a seat that offered a lovely floor-to-high-ceiling view of the moldering garden outside.

“Both, please. I know our visit was unexpected. Thank you, Mrs. Penn; Hortense will assist you.”

Mrs. Penn nodded and bustled out, presumably to whip her staff into a domestic froth, Hortense on her heels.

As far as lady’s maids went, Hortense was worth her weight in gold, and Candace loathed the day when a young man caught her eye and lured her away into marriage. Candace was already determined to hire the man in question, just to keep Hortense in her employ.

She had no doubt that Hortense would be of great help to Mrs. Penn in setting up both her and Vera’s bedrooms. As Candace’s friend and supporter in this difficult time, Vera had been taken under Hortense’s strong and capable wing.

Vera stood at the window, unruly pieces of ash-brown hair escaping from her chignon and catching the beautiful light—a halo surrounding her pretty features. Not for the first time, Candace admired her friend’s appearance, though the drab tan-and grey plaid travelling outfit sought to wash out her coloring and nauseate the observer with its busy hash-mark pattern.

Candace’s eyes narrowed. Vera was such a good friend, such a kind person. She’d uprooted her life and accompanied Candace at a moment’s calamity; such devotion should be rewarded. Candace’s lips turned upward as sudden inspiration descended.

“It’s a lovely house.” Vera examined the thick plaster of the ceiling and the handsome brass chandeliers.

“We’ve seen one room.” Candace’s lip twitched in amusement.

“And the hall.” Vera arched an eyebrow.

“If you’re determined to find it lovely, I certainly won’t stop you.” She relaxed against the thick cushions—a decidedly unladylike posture—and exhaled in relief.

“I hope you find it every bit as charming as I do. Perhaps then we’ll never have to leave.” There was a flash of vulnerable hope in Vera’s eyes.