very good--nor is his sight, but you understand I've been from England for five years."
She nodded. "So you haven't been able to observe."
"I know, kind soul that you are, you will be patient with him."
"Of course."
He puckered his lips in thought. "Our housekeeper in town is quite a bit older than Mrs. Plumley. Her name is Mrs. Harrigan, and I'm her second Duke of Aldridge."
She peered from the carriage window and recognized that they were on Piccadilly. "I shall be making their acquaintances momentarily."
Chapter 9
There was no greeting party to welcome the new duchess. It had been understood that the newly wedded couple would be returning the following day. Therefore, Margaret and Caroline were paying morning calls, and Mrs. Harrigan must be below stairs. Only white-haired Barrow met them as they came into the wide entry corridor that was lined with priceless portraits of Ponsby family members over the last two centuries.
"My dearest duchess," Philip said, "allow me to present Barrow to you. He is treasured by every member of the Ponsby family."
"I am delighted," she said as the servant executed a shaky bow. She sincerely hoped he did not remember her from that other day (which she now thought the luckiest day of her life).
"Certainly, your grace," Barrow said to her, then he proceeded to turn his back on them and shuffle along the corridor.
Her gaze met Philip's, her brows lowered.
"Daresay," he whispered, "he is hard of hearing. Must have thought you requested the candles be lighted."
Her husband was right. Seconds later, Barrow and a strapping young footman came to stand in front of the towering mirror, and the footman began to light the sconces which flanked it--even though it was but two in the afternoon, and the soaring ceiling of domed glass filled the entry chamber with daylight.
She gave her husband a querying look, but he shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Come, my darling, allow me to show you the duchess's chambers."
While Elizabeth was unfamiliar with Aldridge House, she had spent some time in other palatial ducal residences. Her aunt had been the Duchess of Steffington, and her maternal grandfather was the Duke of Fane. But since Elizabeth had neither fortune nor great beauty, she had not (at least not since she had come from the school room) thought it possible she would ever be mistress of anything so grand as Glenmont Hall. Or even Aldridge House. Only one house in all of London could rival its grandeur: the Regent's own Carlton House.
As they mounted the broad marble staircase side by side, she concentrated on acting duchessy. This necessitated that she refrain from gushing. Everywhere she looked, everything she saw from the gilt banister to the massive crystal chandeliers was gush-worthy. But she could not underscore to Philip how unworthy she was to be his duchess.
She had not felt so inadequate at Glenmont. There, it had just been the two of them, and he had been ever so solicitous of her. But here in London she would be held up to scrutiny from every lady who had ever hoped to snare the Duke of Aldridge for herself. The servants too might resent a new mistress. Even his sisters of whom she had always been excessively fond might think her an intruder in a domain they had ruled during his long absence from England.
And what would happen when he invited friends from Parliament? Would they think her stupid? She would have to offset the disadvantage of her youth by educating herself about government.
Perhaps Richie could be helpful in that.
There was nothing she would not do to try to earn Philip's love.
When they reached the third level where the bedchambers were located, he said, "You will not only find my mother's former chambers outdated, you will also find they're not at all to your taste. I beg that you seek a clever person to redo them for you. A pity I didn't think of it before we left London. I daresay they might have been redecorated by now."
"But I daresay
She nodded. "So you haven't been able to observe."
"I know, kind soul that you are, you will be patient with him."
"Of course."
He puckered his lips in thought. "Our housekeeper in town is quite a bit older than Mrs. Plumley. Her name is Mrs. Harrigan, and I'm her second Duke of Aldridge."
She peered from the carriage window and recognized that they were on Piccadilly. "I shall be making their acquaintances momentarily."
Chapter 9
There was no greeting party to welcome the new duchess. It had been understood that the newly wedded couple would be returning the following day. Therefore, Margaret and Caroline were paying morning calls, and Mrs. Harrigan must be below stairs. Only white-haired Barrow met them as they came into the wide entry corridor that was lined with priceless portraits of Ponsby family members over the last two centuries.
"My dearest duchess," Philip said, "allow me to present Barrow to you. He is treasured by every member of the Ponsby family."
"I am delighted," she said as the servant executed a shaky bow. She sincerely hoped he did not remember her from that other day (which she now thought the luckiest day of her life).
"Certainly, your grace," Barrow said to her, then he proceeded to turn his back on them and shuffle along the corridor.
Her gaze met Philip's, her brows lowered.
"Daresay," he whispered, "he is hard of hearing. Must have thought you requested the candles be lighted."
Her husband was right. Seconds later, Barrow and a strapping young footman came to stand in front of the towering mirror, and the footman began to light the sconces which flanked it--even though it was but two in the afternoon, and the soaring ceiling of domed glass filled the entry chamber with daylight.
She gave her husband a querying look, but he shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Come, my darling, allow me to show you the duchess's chambers."
While Elizabeth was unfamiliar with Aldridge House, she had spent some time in other palatial ducal residences. Her aunt had been the Duchess of Steffington, and her maternal grandfather was the Duke of Fane. But since Elizabeth had neither fortune nor great beauty, she had not (at least not since she had come from the school room) thought it possible she would ever be mistress of anything so grand as Glenmont Hall. Or even Aldridge House. Only one house in all of London could rival its grandeur: the Regent's own Carlton House.
As they mounted the broad marble staircase side by side, she concentrated on acting duchessy. This necessitated that she refrain from gushing. Everywhere she looked, everything she saw from the gilt banister to the massive crystal chandeliers was gush-worthy. But she could not underscore to Philip how unworthy she was to be his duchess.
She had not felt so inadequate at Glenmont. There, it had just been the two of them, and he had been ever so solicitous of her. But here in London she would be held up to scrutiny from every lady who had ever hoped to snare the Duke of Aldridge for herself. The servants too might resent a new mistress. Even his sisters of whom she had always been excessively fond might think her an intruder in a domain they had ruled during his long absence from England.
And what would happen when he invited friends from Parliament? Would they think her stupid? She would have to offset the disadvantage of her youth by educating herself about government.
Perhaps Richie could be helpful in that.
There was nothing she would not do to try to earn Philip's love.
When they reached the third level where the bedchambers were located, he said, "You will not only find my mother's former chambers outdated, you will also find they're not at all to your taste. I beg that you seek a clever person to redo them for you. A pity I didn't think of it before we left London. I daresay they might have been redecorated by now."
"But I daresay
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