Chapter 2
Harry all but danced up the stone steps of the towering, great house, not giving a whit for what anyone might think of her. Luckily, there wasn’t a trace of ice on the stone, having been well sanded. The servants of the ancient seat were once again a force to be reckoned with, keeping the house in perfect working order.
Good wages, board, particularly good fare and a cheerful environment had done a wonder of good.
It had not been easy to assure the servants that Blackdown was to see a new day. She had worked long and hard to ensure that the estate shed the layers of tragedy it had absorbed just as thoroughly as she had seen the wrecked plaster and stained silk wall hangings be swept away.
While Rob had spent some extremely important hours working in Parliament changing the fate of nations, she had come down to the country and assessed how terrible it truly was. To her surprise and happiness, she’d discovered in herself what she’d realized was quite a remarkable talent for restoration.
Poring over plans, silk swatches, plasterwork designs, marble, and wood samples had not bored her. Not one bit. It had excited her. It had been clear to her that she was making choices which might, one day, please people hundreds of years in the future. Such a thing had been thrilling.
Each day had not been a trial of work and setbacks. No, it had been a revelation in her own ability and in the way art was created to last. She’d thrived in the discovery of each new beautiful element of the house. ’Twas as if she were befriending the old place, seeing its scars, loving it in any case, and helping it to heal. No, it had not just healed. Now, it positively shone.
She could not wait to show Rob. Not only was the house a stunning tribute to history now, and a quite comfortable place to live, she had also sent orders for festive decorating to be implemented.
Mary, her sister-in-law, and her mother-in-law, the dowager duchess, had been in the country now for two weeks, preparing for the Christmas season, too.
It had been, in the very end, a joint effort of the Deverall women to rejuvenate the ancient estate. An effort they were all very proud of. The spirit of the servants and tenants was now one of hope for the future.
Rob had been far more wary, as if the possibility of being within the vicinity of his childhood home might open a tide of memory and emotion he’d hoped to keep dammed up quite safely.
Still, he was here now, right behind her and he did not seem like a man being led to the gallows. In fact, his strong step was sprightly. He seemed cheerful even. Which was a good thing, for her own emotions had been rather full these last weeks. His steadiness had been most helpful as she had begun to feel waves of great happiness and waves of great irritation. Still, she knew she was going to have to become used to the unreliability of her emotions for several months.
She smiled to herself at the thought.
The double doors at the head of the wide stairs opened, revealing the marvelous butler, Stevenson. Much to her good fortune, they had formed an immediate accord and the long-suffering family servant had been eager to help her to return Blackdown to its former glory. At first, she had been frightened that she would tire him with her efforts given his years. Instead, he had only increased in vigor at the task.
She smiled then felt Rob’s hand touch her back as they stepped into the spacious foyer which was as large as some people’s entire houses. The ceiling soared above them and their footsteps echoed on the ornate, green, marble floor.
Unlike so many of the newer, prestigious houses of the ton, this beautiful place had been built before Henry VIII. Somehow, it had survived almost entirely intact and the ceiling fairly glittered what with its elaborate gold cornices and carved wood.
Painted a brilliant blue, flowers of all of England’s counties twined about the arched ceiling, but there was no mistaking the Tudor Rose in several prominent places which showed the loyalty of the Blackstone family.
That loyalty had seen the family through several revolts and uprisings of many of the most powerful families of England.
Others had fallen to the dust. The Blackstones had remained.
There was no doubt in her mind that there would be a Blackstone at the helm of the English government for all time.
Still, she hesitated, unsure how Rob might take to the changes. The tall windows had been replaced with perfect panes, and many of the blackened tapestries had been taken down and sent away for restoration which might take years. In the meantime, a series of paintings featuring the great deeds of the first Blackstones hung upon the walls.
She glanced back over her shoulder, hoping to see some sign of acceptance.
She did not see it. No, it was not acceptance. His face had all but transformed with pleasure. A wide smile parted his wicked lips and his eyes, so often given to mischief, lit with delight.
“What a marvel,” he declared. “How proud you both must be.”
The butler all but bounced on his ancient toes, unable to hide his glee. “We are, Your Grace. We are. But it is Her Grace who is most responsible. She has brought the place to life again.”
“She has brought us all to life again,” Rob corrected kindly.
“No ghosts could dwell here,” he whispered very quietly before giving himself a little shake.
Harriet barely heard his declaration but hear it she did, and her heart warmed. It was no easy thing for him to choose happiness. Her heart swelled with pride at his strength.
“Now,” Rob proclaimed, clasping her to him, “show me our home, Your Grace.”
Harry all but hummed with relief and joy at his reaction. Rob had always danced on the edge of the sadness of his childhood. But when one had known such tragedy as he had, it was to be expected. The horrific depths of dissipation to which Rob’s father had descended and which Rob had witnessed would be the heart break of any son.
As of late, the shadows of the past had released him more and more.
So, delighted, she took his hand and began pulling him towards the curved stairs.
“Where to first?” he asked, following happily.
She stopped and popped onto the tips of her boots. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she then whispered, “The bedrooms, I’d think. Don’t you agree?”