CHAPTER SIX
Perched on the edge of a velvet settee, Jane tugged at the hem of her dress; a gown of soft lavender muslin, a color that complemented her fair complexion and brought a gentle warmth to her appearance.
The morning sun streamed through the grand windows of her room, casting intricate patterns on the polished wooden floor and draping the space with its glow.
She got on her feet and walked over to a standing mirror and had barely even had a second to look at her reflection when the door swung open and Sarah came barging in.
“She's here!” Sarah sprang over to stand behind her sister who was still trying to fathom this sudden entrance.
“Can you be a little bit more specific?” Jane asked, jerking as Sarah tightened a loose lace at her back.
“The dowager!” Sarah blurted, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness.
Jane's breath ceased for a moment and she swallowed. That instant, they heard the sound of neighing horses outside and looked at each other.
“Come.” Sarah grabbed her hand and they both rushed to the window.
Standing side by side, their eyes were fixed on the grand event unfolding outside.
The gravel drive, bordered by manicured lawns and towering oak trees, seemed almost alive with anticipation as the dowager duchess’s carriage approached. It was a stately barouche-landau, its dark blue body and polished brass fittings reflecting the late morning sun.
Clad in a formal livery of navy with silver trim, the coachman seated high on his seat handled the reins with practiced precision; a testament of years of experience.
As the carriage neared the house, he pulled the reins gently, bringing the horses to a smooth and precise halt in front of the entrance to Stonehave Manor. Two footmen, also in matching livery, quickly moved to the carriage, one opening the door while the other lowered the steps.
“Itisher,” Jane said softly, supposedly talking to herself but Sarah turned to her.
“Did you think I was joking?”
Jane exhaled sharply without taking her eyes off their unexpected guest. She should have been nervous like her sister, especially because it was her that the dowager was here to see. Obviously. But she was not.
“How do you do it?” Sarah's voice caught her attention and she took her eyes off the window to face her.
“Do what?” Jane squinted, puzzled by the question.
“Stay calm in times like this?” Sarah looked at her.
“She might be the dowager, Sarah, but she's still human,” Jane said, her eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth.
“Yes. A very powerful one,” Sarah responded, her voice laced with admiration and reverence. “I mean look at her.” Her eyes were focused on the carriage.
Jane returned her gaze to the entrance just in time to witness Prudence descend from the carriage with a sort of grace that belied her age.
The dowager duchess exuded majesty; she was dressed in an elegant and rich green silk gown that was adorned with delicate black lace trim at the collar and sleeve. She wore a high waist gown and a flowing skirt.
Descending from the carriage with an air of imperiousness, her eyes scanned the assembled staff with an expression that brooked seriousness. She acknowledged the footman with a barely perceptible nod, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval as she took in his slight hesitation.
The bonnet that framed her face and accentuated her discerning eyes was a masterpiece made of fine straw trimmed with green satin ribbons and some silk flowers. She was glowing, exuding wealth and power.
Her gaze swept over the manor’s facade and grounds, her expression unreadable but clearly appraising. Jane could almost feel the weight of that gaze, as if the dowager was silently judging everything she saw.
“What is that smell?” she asked with a grimace, her voice cutting through the morning air like a blade.
“Oh, no!” Sarah whispered to herself, a little shaken by the dowager's displeasure.
The footman, taken aback, stuttered an apology but she paid no attention to him, slightly waving her gloved hand to dismiss him from her immediate concern.
“She’s even more imposing than I imagined,” Sarah whispered, a mix of awe and apprehension in her voice. “I cannot believe this will be you someday.” She turned to her sister.
