“I am right here, Henry,” his mother said, opening a door that looked as though it led to a small parlor papered in yellow roses. “There’s no need to yell.”
“But—” Henry stopped himself from pointing at Ellsworth. For some reason, he always felt about nine again whenever he saw his mother. “Mama, how good to see you,” he said, coming forward and bending to kiss both of her cheeks. She smelled of roses and wig powder, as she always had.
Ellsworth held out a hand for Henry’s hat and walking stick, and Henry handed them over. Then the man attempted to take his greatcoat. Henry unfastened it and handed it to the butler, who sagged visibly under its weight. He watched with concern as the manservant attempted to hang the coat on a hook.
“I wish I could say it is good to see you,” the duchess said. “I didn’t hear a carriage approach. Did you wager that away too?”
Henry turned from the butler, who had finally managed to hang the coat. “No. The coach lost a wheel on the road about a mile away. The axle cracked too, I’m afraid. The coachman and outriders are waiting for assistance.”
His mother sighed. “And so it begins.” She looked at her butler. “Ellsworth, send the coachman and two grooms to retrieve the duke’s coach.”
The butler nodded. “Very good, Your Grace.” He turned slowly and shuffled away.
“Are you certain he heard you correctly?” Henry asked.
“There’s nothing wrong with his hearing, Henry. You needn’t yell at him. Come in and sit down. It’s still an hour before I usually take tea, but I’ll call for it now.”
Henry followed his mother into the yellow-papered room. The furnishings were in cream and yellow-and-white striped material. A window in the back of the room was open, and Henry had a view of a garden behind the dower house, as well as Carlisle Hall in the distance. He looked away. He didn’t want to see what he had lost.
His mother indicated one of the yellow-and-white striped chairs, and Henry took it while she sat in a cream chair and rang for tea. He should feel cooler without the heavy greatcoat, but despite the breeze wafting through the window and the loss of the thick garment, he still felt warm. Perhaps that was because his mother was staring at him.
“This is a lovely room,” he said. “Did you have the paper replaced? I like this much better. It suits you.”
“You don’t give a fig about the paper in this room,” his mother said. “Tell me why you’re really here.”
No one could say Georgiana Lewis had grown dim-witted as she aged. She was still as sharp as she’d always been.
“I was hoping you might allow me to stay with you for a few days.”
“A few days, eh?”
“Perhaps a fortnight,” Henry said. “I haven’t visited in some time.”
“You’ve never visited,” the duchess said. “I doubt you would be here now if you had somewhere else to go. So out with it. What have you done?”
Henry felt his shoulders creeping up to his ears. There was the nine-year-old boy taking over his body again. He forced his shoulders down and back. “I wouldn’t exactly say I’ve done—”
“Out with it, Henry.”
“Fine.” He stood and paced across the room, trying to think of the best way to say it. But there was no good way to tell his mother he’d lost everything, so he just said the first thing that came into his mind. “I lost the town house. I think a witch stole it from me.”
Chapter Four
Katie stomped intothe house, slamming the door behind her. She was angry, so angry. She tore off her kerchief and tossed it on the floor. Then she remembered a maid would have to pick it up, so she bent and retrieved it.
“My lady, is that you?” Mrs. Murray’s voice floated down the steps, followed by her light footfalls. Belatedly, Katie realized she must look a mess and tried to smooth her hair. That was when she realized that not only had she lost her head covering, she’d lost her coiffure. Her hair was down her back in a mass of tangles. She felt a piece of straw in it and was trying to extricate it when Mrs. Murray came into view. Her eyes went quite round. “What happened, my lady?”
“I’m quite well, Mrs. Murray. I’ve been at the Fallows’ farm.”
“Did the children attack you?” Mrs. Murray rushed forward and took Katie by the shoulders, looking her over.
“No, there’s only one child capable of walking, and she’s still recovering from illness. I brought Big George with me, and he and Mr. Fallow were repairing the cottage. I’m afraid I tried to assist, and I must have been a little too enthusiastic.”
Mrs. Murray was patting Katie’s arms and tsking at her clothing. “Your dress is ruined, my lady. It’s torn and dusty and—”
Katie waved a hand. “It’s an old dress anyway. I’ll just go up and change.”
To her dismay, Mrs. Murray followed her up the dark wooden stairs. “My lady, I thought we discussed this and agreed you would supply a few items to the tenants but not visit the farms unless I accompanied you.”
