Lady Phillipa's Peril: Regency Romance Suspense Series ( Book 3) (Lords of Sussex 4)
Read Lady Phillipa's Peril: Regency Romance Suspense Series ( Book 3) (Lords of Sussex 4) Online
Authors: Katy Walters
Copyright 2014 Katy Walters
Oakwood House Publishing
License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is entirely co-incidental.
Editor Brian Franke
Proof Reader Nicole Tobin
‘It is almost pitch black in here, you could think we were riding through a tunnel.’ Lady Phillipa Frencham almost whispered, peering through redwood and fir trees. Momentarily, a sense of dread fluttered through her; it seemed like an omen. However, on emerging into brilliant sunshine, she soon regained her composure, as West Mead Manor, came into view, a glory of old stone, with turrets soaring through soft cumulus clouds. The painted glass of leaded light windows glittered in gothic arches, whilst outside a medieval portico, a group of figures waved to them. ‘I can see your mama and your sisters.’ She hoped Demetrius was not there, the wedding was enough to contend with. How could she tell Hector of his brother’s ardour for her?
‘Tis now your home my darling.’ Hector laughed, giving her a swift kiss on her cheek.
‘I see the servants are also there, quite a crowd. La, my stomach fairly quivers. I am not used to such attention.’
‘Phillipa, dearest – welcome.’ The dowager, Lady Thurston cried, clapping her hands, as the carriage drew up beside ancient stone pillars. A dour butler stepped forward, preparing to give a sombre bow, only to wince, as the twins jostled by him. ‘Pippa – Hector,’ they squealed excitedly. The two girls were identical; but for the slight difference in the colour of their red hair, it was difficult to tell them apart.
Her heart sank, as she espied Demetrius, lolling against a pillar, his mocking eyes capturing her gaze. So, the deceiver would be there for the wedding. Blast. She decided to dismiss him, why should he have priority over her mood.
‘You look as lovely as ever.’ the dowager said beaming, her eyes sparkling, as she took Pippa in her plump arms, giving her a resounding kiss on both cheeks.
‘My lady, I am so glad to see you again.’ Phillipa said, kissing her back.
‘So, have you had a good journey?’
‘Oh, yes, my maid and seamstress are following; they are bringing the main luggage and the wedding apparel.’
‘Hodgeson will see to them.’
‘My pleasure milady,’ the butler murmured solemnly, his lips quirking, as he suppressed a smile. Pleased to be recognized at last, he gave a polite bow, and then beckoned to the liveried footmen to unload the carriage, whilst the maids fluttered about taking the personal items.
‘Lady Venetia is travelling up tomorrow with Lord Horatio.’
‘I shall be delighted to meet them again.’ Clasping Phillipa’s hand, the dowager led her into the dark confines of the huge baronial hall. Immediately, Phillipa felt the coolness of the stone walls, a welcome respite from the heat of the sun, now in its zenith. The stuffed heads of deer, wolf and bear, gazed with vapid eyes into an endless day, whilst crossed swords and ancient medieval tapestries of knights and their ladies, or the family coat of arms, gave a sense of somnolence and antiquity, dating the manor far beyond the Norman invasion.
Her stomach clenched, as she caught the sneering glance of Demetrius, tweaking the ridiculous high points of his collar. His smile veiled a message. Thankfully, the dowager chattered on, oblivious to Phillipa’s discomfort. ‘My dear, it must have been a tedious journey.’
‘Not really your ladyship, we stopped only once to change horses and from then on, it was such a delight to drive through the Downs; such a changing landscape of forests, hills and meadows. We actually saw deer lope from the trees ahead of us, with some baby fawns. It was so exciting.’
‘Yes mama.’ Hector laughed, ‘so exciting that Philippa insisted on stopping, and getting out her sketch book, to draw them.’ He took Phillipa’s other hand, as they walked through the wide stone corridors, the walls adorned with long dead ancestors, some of them definitely medieval, painted on wooden panels, the gold and silver faded to just a faint glimmer.
‘I could not resist it your ladyship; it is not often one has the chance to sketch from life. The lithographs are staid and lifeless to copy from; they lack the softness and vibrancy of an oil or watercolour.
‘My dear you must show them to me. I am thrilled we have an artist in our family.’
Phillipa smiled, ‘You flatter me your ladyship, I will not pretend to be such, but I love to sketch.
‘Do not demean yourself; I have seen some of your work.’
‘Thank you, but I use it mainly to decorate my diary and to make it more visual than plain writing.’
‘La, you have not mentioned that. What a novel idea my dear. It must be more interesting indeed; such a pleasant way of recording events. It must keep you very occupied. Myself, I cannot draw at all. I produce stick figures and stick trees to wit.’
Lily came alongside, ‘You could even have it printed Phillipa, “Diary of a Lady”; make it anonymous. Like that popular novel, out at present “Pride and Prejudice” written by a Lady.’
Her twin laughed, ‘Yes, and you could use us as models. What fun. In fact, let us start today.’
‘I do not think that would be such a good idea,’ Hector quipped, ‘Phillipa does an excellent likeness; the figures would be recognised instantly.’
Amelia laughed, ‘It would cause such a stir, especially if the gossips suck onto it. Their tongues would lash so.’
‘Yes, I declare, the scandal teas would become crowded,’ her twin added.
Leading her into a vast drawing room, the dowager waved Phillipa to some comfortable Queen Anne chairs and settees, placed around a massive granite stone hearth. Even in the height of summer, hefty logs crackled on glowing embers, the scent of apples and wild herbs wafting from the flickering flames.’
‘What a delightful scent.’
Elizabeth beamed, ‘It helps offset the mustiness of these large old rooms, No matter how often we open the windows, we cannot rid the room of the stale odour. As for the stone walls, I had the maids scrub them with the stoutest of bristle brushes, until their poor hands were quite red, but it makes no difference.’
Taking a seat on the old settee, Phillipa winced, imagining the blisters forming on the maids’ hands. As if reading her thoughts, the dowager continued, ‘Of course they were delighted when I treated them with lavender hand cream, and little rewards of bottles of rosewater.’
‘You are too kind, too soft with them, mama,’ Demetrius drawled. ‘They’re only servants.’
‘Human beings,’ Phillipa murmured, ‘it is just by the grace of God, we are of a different rank.’
‘Well said m’dear,’ the dowager said, sitting down on a high backed chair.
To Phillipa’s consternation, Demetrius sat beside her, why did he not sit somewhere else. Gritting her teeth, she kept her face composed. Amelia ran to perch on the other side of her, and hugged her close. ‘Oh it is wonderful to have our dear Pippa with us. With five brothers, you can imagine we are often overwhelmed.’
Hector laughed, ‘How come sis? Three of ‘em are married. What about Regina and Clarrissa?’
‘Both married, and we see little of them, living so far away.’
‘Don’t we see to your every whim?’
‘Fie on you,’ Lily grinned from the chair opposite. ‘You are all so patronizing, d’you know Phillipa; they will not let us near the shooting range?’
‘But you have the archery and croquet lawns, so you cannot grumble.’
Lily scowled at him; he was so pompous. He usually found something to say that upset her or Amelia.’ He smirked, seeing her flush. ‘Why learn anyway? It is of no use to a female.’
Hector stiffened; this was not something Phillipa would want to hear. He hoped she would not rise to his quips. It would set a pall over her first day at the manor.
Phillipa simmered, but bit her lip; she was too fond of the dowager to argue with the dolt. It would never change anything, and there was nothing to prove by taking him on. T’was then she felt his hand slither under her thigh.