Page 33 of An Unfamiliar Duke

“You may choose,” he said. “Top to bottom or bottom to top?”

She smiled then, and his heart lifted. “Top to bottom. Then we leave the exciting rooms to the end.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you do not consider twenty-four unique bedchambers to be exciting?” he asked.

“Twenty-four?” There was no mistaking her shock. “Good heavens. No wonder you employ such a large staff. Dusting that many rooms would be a full-time occupation.”

“In total, Finley Park boasts one hundred and twelve rooms.”

She stared at him. “Truly?”

He laughed and offered her his arm. “Truly. This is no lightweight excursion.”

They started in the upper east wing and slowly moved over to the upper west wing. To her credit, Rosalind entered every single bedchamber and associated sitting room, pausing often to admire the views through the windows. She lingered in the nursery, peeked into the linen cupboards, but stopped short of climbing the back stairs to the servants’ quarters above. Instead, they made their way downstairs, across the entrance hall, and to the main library.

Sebastian opened the double doors and stepped back to allow Rosalind to enter ahead of him. She stepped over the threshold and went no farther. Her head slowly swiveled from the left to the right and back again as she took in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that ran the entire length of three walls.

“Oh, Sebastian!” She turned to him, her eyes lit with wonder. “It’s incredible.”

“Yes.” Sebastian smiled at her obvious awe. “It is rather.”

She moved farther into the room, extending her arms and slowly twirling in a full circle to take it all in. Her wide skirts brushed against the legs of a nearby end table before she dropped into one of the room’s leather armchairs.

“I remember my father especially enjoying this room when we visited you all those years ago.” Her gaze strayed to the french doors and large windows that monopolized the fourth wall. The stone terrace and the expansive lawn beyond were just visible. “Once, I entered the house through those doors and sat beside him in one of these big armchairs.” Her forehead creased, and Sebastian found himself wondering if the memory distressed her somehow.

“I am glad that you can picture your father here,” he said. “My father was also fond of sitting beside this fireplace with a good book. I think reading was his escape from the more tedious work of being a duke.”

“As designing and creating are yours,” she said.

“Yes. I suppose so.”

She looked around the room again. “I believe I could stay in here for hours, but as we have another fifty-one rooms to view, I had better return another time.”

“Are you actually keeping track?”

With a grin, she rose to her feet. “I stopped counting after thirty-three, but one day when I am not so distracted by the marvel of it all, I shall most certainly count every room.”

“Since I have not tallied them since I was twelve. I sincerely hope my arithmetic is not found lacking.”

“Oh, you shall hear about it if it is.”

He chuckled. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

They paused briefly at the billiards room and two staterooms before reaching the ballroom. After Rosalind’s response to the library, he had a fairly good idea of how she would feel about this room.

He set his hands on the door handles. “Are you ready?”

“What is it?”

He pushed open the doors. “The ballroom.”

She took two steps before coming to a full stop. The wood floor was polished to a shine. An enormous circular mural on the ceiling was echoed in the smaller murals on the walls. The molding on the ceiling and the walls was painted gold, as were the pillars that stood between the murals. The remainder of the room was painted pale blue, and dark-blue damask curtains hung at the windows.

“I have never . . .” She swallowed and began again. “Have you ever held a ball in here?”

“My parents hosted a harvest ball every year.” Long-forgotten memories flitted through his mind. Watching his father place a glittering necklace around his mother’s neck before escorting her down the stairs, sneaking into the ballroom from the nursery to watch the ladies and gentlemen in their finery, and the music and laughter that had filled the house. An unexpected feeling of regret assailed him. “There has not been a dance here since they passed away.”

“Next year, Sebastian.” Rosalind reached out and grasped his hand tightly. “Do you think we could hold a harvest ball here next year?”