Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Feeling as if the weight of the world was indeed on my shoulders, I climbed into the carriage. I did not believe I would ever sexually desire Lydia the way I did Miriam. A marriage to her would be one of convenience and nothing more. Whereas with Miriam, it would be exciting and challenging in the very best way.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Miriam Bathurst
There were not adequate words to describe the splendor of Chatwick Hall. Upon arrival, I had been so struck by its grand beauty, I hadn’t heard a word that Aunt Harriet had spoken. Whitney, however, reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. I took my eyes off the lands and home, but for a moment, so that I could look at her face.
She was wide-eyed as she took in the view before us. If nothing were to come of this and Lord Ashington found that we weren’t suited after all, this weekend would be worth every moment spent. Whitney was getting to live her dreams. She blinked twice, as if coming out of a daze then looked at me. “Have you ever seen anything so grand?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
“No,” I admitted. For I truly hadn’t.
“If the outside looks like this, I can’t wait to see the inside,” Aunt Harriet added.
We both nodded in agreement.
“I bet it is as splendid as the Palace,” Whitney said.
Aunt Harriet laughed then. “Buckingham? Oh dear, it’s majestic, but I do not think the inside will be fit for royalty.”
I wasn’t so sure. The closer we drew to the entrance, the more breathtaking it became. I was thankful we hadn’t all ridden in a carriage together. Although the carriages that Lord Ashington had brought to gather our luggage and to pick us up were larger than any I had ridden, having the men in one and us in the other had been much more comfortable. Especially now that we were ogling his home.
There were things about Lord Ashington I still wasn’t sure of and just because he had a home as grand as this one didn’t mean I was ready to become his wife. Not that he had asked, of course. I just wasn’t that shallow. A lifetime of misery would not be worth a home such as this one. Remembering the Ashington I had met before he had invited Aunt Harriet and me to the opera was important. One did not change overnight. I must figure out the true nature of Lord Ashington.
The carriage pulled to a stop, and Aunt Harriet looked at me. “You must rescue Lord Ashington from Alfred. He’s been the inquisition for the entire journey, of this I have no doubt. Lord Ashington needs a reminder of why he invited us and a break from your uncle.” Although she was smiling as she said it, I could tell she was very serious. I hadn’t thought much about what they were talking about in the carriage ahead of us. If Uncle Alfred had truly been hammering him with questions, that would be embarrassing indeed.
Whitney giggled at that and I gave her a rueful grin. Just what I wanted to do after a long day’s ride: entertain the Lord of the manor. Whitney gazed out her window again in awe and sighed. To see her so happy, I would do anything. Besides, Lord Ashington wasn’t difficult to be around most of the time.
The carriage door opened and Aunt Harriet took the hand of the footman and stepped down. “I’ve never seen such a grand home in my life, Lord Ashington,” she exclaimed with delight.
Whitney giggled then covered her mouth, her eyes wide with disbelief at Aunt Harriet’s loud announcement. She was still surprised by Aunt Harriet’s ways, but soon, she’d grow accustom to them. I shrugged and nodded my head for her to take the footman’s hand.
All amusement was gone when she was outside and standing before the home. This was why I had come to London. I hadn’t dared hoped for something quite like this but I had wanted to give Whitney the life she dreamed of.
As I stepped down from the carriage, my eyes met Lord Ashington’s and I smiled. It was genuine. He had given me a gift, just by making my sister and aunt so happy. Even if nothing more came from our time together, I would forever be grateful for this invitation. His life was one that we knew little about. Aunt Harriet and Uncle Alfred danced along the hem of this lifestyle. They were wealthy in the eyes of the ton, but this kind of wealth went far beyond what one could make. It was history. It was part of who Lord Ashington was.
“I trust your carriage was adequate,” he said, closing the space between us and offering me his arm.
“Yes, it was more than adequate. We were ever so comfortable. Thank you,” I replied.