smiled assuredly.
She smiled in turn and swept toward him. “Good evening, Mr. Parker. I was informed by my cousin that you will be answering my questions. So my first question is this: Why are you, a solicitor to my father’s estate, involved in the introduction of my suitors? I think it very odd.”
“I will answer your questions in due time,” the man awkwardly provided.
Well, that was informative.
Grayson removed his top hat, smoothing the sides of his blond hair, and approached. “Forgive my inability to provide a proper introduction.” Grayson swept a gloved hand back toward her. “Lady Emerson, this is Mr. Parker. Mr. Parker, this is Lady Emerson.”
Mr. Parker bowed, lowering his bulbous chin against his knotted cravat. He straightened and cleared his throat. “Shall we commence, Mr. Thorbert?”
“Yes. In a moment.” Grayson stripped his cloak and turned to the butler, holding it out along with his top hat. The lanky butler gathered everything with quiet civility.
Grayson turned back toward them and sighed. “There we have it. I am ready.”
Mr. Parker gestured past the foyer to the corridor beyond. “If you please. Everyone is already gathered upstairs.”
Her throat tightened. The idea of meeting suitors in the presence of a man representing her father’s estate was unnerving. She dared not fathom what it meant. Did her father think she was going to deny her duty or his choice in men?
Lifting the hem of her gowns lightly above her slippered ankle, she quietly followed Mr. Parker and Grayson past elegant round alcoves displaying a series of bronze and marble busts of dignified men propped on Roman columns. It had been months since she’d last visited her uncle’s home. Of course, nothing had changed since she’d last seen it; it was still very pristine and very boring. Her eyes followed the wood railing toward an oversize landing that led to various doors and the receiving room upstairs.
Grayson gestured for her to mount the stairs after Mr. Parker. She quickly followed the solicitor as Grayson trailed behind. Once she alighted on the landing, both Grayson and Mr. Parker hurried down one of the corridors. Two male servants in dark livery made their way toward them with silver platters, settled themselves against the walls and stoically remained there until she, Mr. Parker and Grayson had passed.
Low male voices drifted toward her.
Victoria followed Grayson through a large, rounded entryway. The dignified drawing room looked the same, its arched ceilings still bearing elegant ribbon plasterwork, the long row of windows on the other end of the room draped with heavy, brocaded curtains.
Although the large room wasn’t brightly lit, there was a coziness reflected not only in the burning hearth, but also in the soft glow of candles in sconces set outside of gilded mirrors gracing the powder-blue walls. Four men of varying sizes and coloring were seated on the far side of the room in wingback chairs, quietly conversing. The oldest of the four, with thick, graying brown hair and a curling mustache, was not a suitor—thank goodness—but her uncle, Sir Thorbert.
She paused and eyed the rest of the men who had yet to note her arrival.
Grayson leaned toward her and whispered, “Settle yourself in. I will return in a moment.”
She spun toward him, her eyes widening. “You don’t intend to leave me unchaperoned, do you?” she whispered back. “I don’t know any of these men.”
He patted her cheek. “My father is here to serve as chaperone. And rest assured, you know two of the three. I’ll be right back.” He winked, turned and disappeared.
Two of the three? She didn’t even know that many men. She spun back toward the room. Dread drummed through her as moisture pricked the back of her neck beneath her gathered and pinned curls.
Mr. Parker sighed, reminding her of his presence, and strode past, heading to the other side of the vast room.
She awkwardly edged forward, scanning the
She smiled in turn and swept toward him. “Good evening, Mr. Parker. I was informed by my cousin that you will be answering my questions. So my first question is this: Why are you, a solicitor to my father’s estate, involved in the introduction of my suitors? I think it very odd.”
“I will answer your questions in due time,” the man awkwardly provided.
Well, that was informative.
Grayson removed his top hat, smoothing the sides of his blond hair, and approached. “Forgive my inability to provide a proper introduction.” Grayson swept a gloved hand back toward her. “Lady Emerson, this is Mr. Parker. Mr. Parker, this is Lady Emerson.”
Mr. Parker bowed, lowering his bulbous chin against his knotted cravat. He straightened and cleared his throat. “Shall we commence, Mr. Thorbert?”
“Yes. In a moment.” Grayson stripped his cloak and turned to the butler, holding it out along with his top hat. The lanky butler gathered everything with quiet civility.
Grayson turned back toward them and sighed. “There we have it. I am ready.”
Mr. Parker gestured past the foyer to the corridor beyond. “If you please. Everyone is already gathered upstairs.”
Her throat tightened. The idea of meeting suitors in the presence of a man representing her father’s estate was unnerving. She dared not fathom what it meant. Did her father think she was going to deny her duty or his choice in men?
Lifting the hem of her gowns lightly above her slippered ankle, she quietly followed Mr. Parker and Grayson past elegant round alcoves displaying a series of bronze and marble busts of dignified men propped on Roman columns. It had been months since she’d last visited her uncle’s home. Of course, nothing had changed since she’d last seen it; it was still very pristine and very boring. Her eyes followed the wood railing toward an oversize landing that led to various doors and the receiving room upstairs.
Grayson gestured for her to mount the stairs after Mr. Parker. She quickly followed the solicitor as Grayson trailed behind. Once she alighted on the landing, both Grayson and Mr. Parker hurried down one of the corridors. Two male servants in dark livery made their way toward them with silver platters, settled themselves against the walls and stoically remained there until she, Mr. Parker and Grayson had passed.
Low male voices drifted toward her.
Victoria followed Grayson through a large, rounded entryway. The dignified drawing room looked the same, its arched ceilings still bearing elegant ribbon plasterwork, the long row of windows on the other end of the room draped with heavy, brocaded curtains.
Although the large room wasn’t brightly lit, there was a coziness reflected not only in the burning hearth, but also in the soft glow of candles in sconces set outside of gilded mirrors gracing the powder-blue walls. Four men of varying sizes and coloring were seated on the far side of the room in wingback chairs, quietly conversing. The oldest of the four, with thick, graying brown hair and a curling mustache, was not a suitor—thank goodness—but her uncle, Sir Thorbert.
She paused and eyed the rest of the men who had yet to note her arrival.
Grayson leaned toward her and whispered, “Settle yourself in. I will return in a moment.”
She spun toward him, her eyes widening. “You don’t intend to leave me unchaperoned, do you?” she whispered back. “I don’t know any of these men.”
He patted her cheek. “My father is here to serve as chaperone. And rest assured, you know two of the three. I’ll be right back.” He winked, turned and disappeared.
Two of the three? She didn’t even know that many men. She spun back toward the room. Dread drummed through her as moisture pricked the back of her neck beneath her gathered and pinned curls.
Mr. Parker sighed, reminding her of his presence, and strode past, heading to the other side of the vast room.
She awkwardly edged forward, scanning the
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