Page 48 of When She Was a Governess
“I am worried James will see through us,” Sophia said quietly.
“We must be convincing. Shall we practice our adoring look once more?” Henry made a face.
She laughed as they walked out to the front steps and into the driveway to greet their guests.
The staff had already assembled in two neat lines flanking the front steps—footmen on one side, maids on the other, with Mrs. Bromley and Grimshaw at the fore. All stood at attention, awaiting the arrival of their important guests.
Two elegant traveling carriages rolled up the drive, their polished black lacquer gleaming even in the gray light. Each was drawn by a matched pair of horses—Sebastian’s bays, James’s chestnuts—their breath steaming in the cold air. The Ashford coat of arms was emblazoned on the doors in gold and crimson, and despite the long journey from London, the carriages looked immaculate. Behind them came a third, more practical coach, carrying the valets and lady’s maids.
The first carriage came to a halt directly in front of the manor. A footman rushed forward to open the door and let down the steps.
Sebastian emerged first, broad-chested and commanding even in his traveling clothes. His dark eyes immediately found Sophia. His serious expression softened into a clear tenderness as he took in the sight of her standing beside Henry.
Rose appeared next, accepting Sebastian’s hand as she descended. She wore a traveling dress of deep burgundywool trimmed with black frogging, practical but elegant, with a matching pelisse and bonnet. Her dark hair was arranged beneath the bonnet, wisps escaping to frame her fair face. Her light green eyes lit up when she saw Sophia, and the blush that perpetually colored her cheeks deepened.
The second carriage door opened. James descended with that barely contained energy Sophia knew so well—sinewy strength evident even in the simplest movement. His honey-colored hair curled rebelliously over his forehead despite obvious attempts to tame it. Intense eyes swept over the scene. He wore a dark green coat that emphasized his powerful frame, and there was something almost wolfish about him—a man trying to wear the mantle of gentleman but never quite succeeding in hiding his true nature.
Georgiana followed, accepting James’s hand. She wore a traveling dress of pale gray merino wool with delicate embroidery at the collar and cuffs, a matching spencer, and a bonnet that framed her delicate bone structure beautifully. Her light blonde hair was arranged simply, her brilliant blue eyes warm as they landed upon Sophia.
“Your Grace, welcome to Montrose Manor,” Grimshaw intoned formally, bowing low. The staff followed suit, the maids curtsying and the footmen bowing in perfect synchronization.
Sebastian approached first, climbing the steps with Rose on his arm. “Lord Montrose,” he said, extending his hand to Henry. “Good to see you again.”
“Your Grace.” Henry shook his hand. “Thank you for making the journey on such short notice.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Sebastian turned to Sophia, and his formal bearing dissolved completely. He took both her hands in his, squeezing them warmly as he looked down at her. “Little sister,” he murmured against her hair. “I’m so glad for you.”
“Thank you for coming,” she said.
Rose came forward, kissing Sophia’s cheek. “Look at you. That dress is magnificent. And your hair looks wonderful. You’re absolutely glowing.”
“Lord Montrose.” James’s voice was cordial as he extended his hand, but his intense gaze moved from Henry to Sophia and back again with unmistakable assessment. “Congratulations on your engagement. We were certainly surprised by the news. Pleasantly, of course.”
“Your Grace.” Henry shook his hand firmly. “It is good of you to come.”
“How could we not?” James held Henry’s gaze for a beat longer than he should. Henry, for his part, looked back at James with the same directness of spirit. They were alike, Sophia realized. Gruff and untamed on the outside, but sensitive and protective on the inside.
James turned to Sophia, and his expression softened. He took both her hands in his, studying her face. “You look well, sister. Happy even.”
“I am happy,” she said.
He leaned close, speaking softly into her ear. “Truly? Because if you have any doubts—”
“I don’t,” she said. “I promise.”
He searched her eyes a moment longer before nodding. “Then I’m pleased for you.”
When he released her, Georgiana kissed Sophia’s cheek. “You look beautiful. Thank you for including us.”
“I am grateful you could come, especially with baby Emily being only months old,” Sophia said.
“She will be well taken care of while we’re gone,” Georgiana said, shooting a flirtatious look at her husband. “And James and I can pretend we are still on our honeymoon.”
“Shall we go inside?” Henry suggested, gesturing toward the open door where welcoming light spilled out.
They moved inside in a cluster, the staff dispersing to handle luggage and see to the comfort of the visiting servants. In the entrance hall, Sebastian paused to look around, taking in the elegant proportions, the gleaming floors, the portrait gallery leading to the upper floors. “You have a fine home, Montrose.”
“Thank you. My uncle was kind enough to leave it to me,” Henry said. “It will now be a home rather than simply a dwelling. Your sister brightens every room.”
