Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
I’ll never forget the look on Ian’s handsome face when he first saw me, nor his bark of laughter that shocked everybody as it rang through the space.
But I was about to be a countess.
The bodice of my gown was lace and pearls with a low vee and pretty, all lace cap sleeves.
But the skirt was an enormous poof of countless layers of tulle that trailed behind me a good four feet. It was so huge, Mom and I barely fit as we walked down the aisle.
What could I say?
I wasn’t about to let Alice and Adelaide and Anne down.
But most especially, Ian.
As for his part, he surprised me, and as we dashed out under floating, baby-pink rose petals on a warm summer day, a shining, open-topped carriage awaited us at the end of the path.
It was a long journey, and slow going, but I didn’t notice it or anything else because Ian and I made out the entire way. And the driver was occupied, Ian was stealthy, and his mouth kept me quiet as my new husband’s hand found its way under my skirts.
Our reception was a garden party outside the back doors of the Conservatory at Duncroft.
It, too, was packed and alive with laughter.
Happy.
The title was transferred, and the tours began, but to our surprise, Richard loved them.
Perhaps it was the awe he saw in the tour-goers’ faces when they took in his family’s legacy. Perhaps it was because he was indeed social, as Lady Jane said he was. Perhaps it was a bit of both.
But it wasn’t unheard of for the deposed earl, to the irritation of the guides, to suddenly appear in order to confiscate a group and take them on his own private tour of his home so he could brag unashamedly and show them all his favorite places.
And then it was Richard’s idea to open the house for free to student tours a couple of weekdays a month. Kids from all over the United Kingdom took field trips to see Duncroft House and learn about it and its part in England’s history.
For those, only Richard played guide.
Long before this, though, Ian, Richard, Daniel and Stevenson put their heads together, and although Duncroft had a security system (first floor windows and all the doors), a new, far more extensive system was installed.
Cameras and a room that was dedicated to video monitors and sensors.
Sam was promoted to head of security.
Along with that, all the panels were nailed shut, except those that opened to the Turquoise and Viognier Rooms. Those solely because the passageways made it easier to serve.
This was done to prevent any further high jinks, and possibly mishaps, from happening in the walls of Duncroft.
But also, and mostly, it was because the staff was part of our family, and we wanted them to feel that way as they went about their duties of looking after us and our home.
Ian and I remained in London after the birth of our first child, Alice, and our second, Gus (Augustus, obviously) as well as our last, Walter (though, he eventually earned the nickname Wolf).
But then city life became too much for us. Ian and his holdings, me and the patisserie, three kids, a cat and a dog, it was too busy and there wasn’t enough time for the important things.
So I trained up my assistant chef, transferred my responsibilities to her, Ian cut back on work, and we moved to Duncroft.
Ian still worked, and I opened a patisserie school I mostly oversaw, but sometimes taught at, in some converted stables in the village.
Ian got Alice another cat. I got Gus another dog. We both presented Walt with his own pup.
Lady Jane and I, together, planned all the birthday parties, the Christmas party, the Bonfire Night, and we added funding a big fireworks display in the village for New Year’s and an annual open house for the villagers on May Day.
Duncroft was no longer a great hall shrouded in mystery.
The tours were sold out months in advance, the ambulance service in the village was fully funded, and a small charity was created to look after the local elderly so they could remain in their own homes.
And again, due to Duncroft, money poured into the village, as two weekends a month, the tourists arrived.
The Bernini was ooed over, the Ansdell was ahed, and thousands of feet shuffled over the spot where Dorothy Clifton lost her life.
Under which the bones of Alice and Wolf were entwined for eternity, the foundation of a sweeping legacy.
Yes, I read the words of the countesses who came before me.
Every last one.
More than once.
And some of it wasn’t easy, for more than obvious reasons. Alice’s entries were reminiscent of Beowulf, others were akin to trying to decipher Shakespeare.
But I got the gist.
Joan might have given the line her coloring, but it was Wolf who gave Ian (and others) his hotness.