domes.
‘It’s exquisite, Seb,’ she said admiringly.
She opened the window beside her and leaned out enough so she could see the outside of the carriage, the cool breeze returning her body temperature to normal. The colour combination was reflected on the outside and on the corners of the carriage swung black and silver lanterns shedding a golden glow over the paintwork. Even the horses cantering at the front were uniformly black, right down to their thickly flowing manes.
Pulling her head back in, she turned to Seb with a puzzled frown. ‘Who’s driving the carriage?’
Seb was lounging casually in the corner, his long legs stretched diagonally across the floor of the carriage. ‘Anyone looking will see a driver, though he’s an illusion. I’m controlling the reins.’ He tapped the side of his head.
Emilia sat back against the plush backrest. ‘In that case I won’t distract you any further. I’d hate to end up in a ditch.’
His lips twitched in amusement but he didn’t comment.
*
The carriage turned off the road onto a long, winding driveway. As it rounded the last bend, Seb got his first look at Seeworth Manor.
He sucked in an awed breath. ‘Wow!’ he murmured under his breath.
Emilia had mentioned it was a mansion, but that hardly did it justice. It was more like a palace. Five stories high and at least three times the width of the White House at his best guess; it was dominated by a huge central turret, with two smaller turrets at either end. Built in pale sandstone, it glowed almost golden in the light shed from what seemed to be thousands of lanterns lining every exterior surface. His fingers itched for a pencil and sketching pad.
As they joined the queue of carriages approaching the exquisitely colonnaded portico, a sudden flurry of nerves hit Seb. His palms dampened with a sheen of sweat and he swallowed hard. High-pressure situations didn’t faze him; he was comfortable with peasant and soldier alike no matter what century he was in and warfare and intrigue merely presented a challenge to be overcome. But high society and all its inherent subtleties intimidated the hell out of him.
He darted a sideways look at Emilia. She appeared relaxed and a little excited. Having her here made him all the more nervous. He had no idea how to behave in formal social settings; his background wasn’t exactly conducive to developing good manners and social graces. Emilia, on the other hand, had moved within Ithaca’s highest social circles her entire life and he didn’t want to let her down. He stared broodingly out the carriage window, hoping somehow he’d pull a miracle off and not embarrass them both.
Emilia’s hand settled lightly on his forearm and his head whipped around to meet her eyes in surprise.
‘Cheer up, Sparky. It’s going to be okay,’ she said reassuringly.
‘That obvious, huh?’ His lips twisted in a grim smile. He hated appearing weak in front of her.
Before she could answer the carriage drew to a halt and a footman swept open the door with a graceful bow. ‘Welcome to Seeworth, my lord.’
‘Uh, thank you,’ he replied awkwardly. He shot Emilia an incredulous look and practically jumped out of the carriage, much to the astonishment of the unprepared footman. Belatedly remembering the role he was supposed to be playing, he turned and held his hand up to help Emilia out. Her fingers, encased in silk gloves, slid across his palm, sending unexpected jolts of electricity through his body. She descended the carriage steps with all the grace his exit had lacked and turned to smile at the footman, who gestured towards the wide steps leading up to the entrance of the House.
Emilia turned back to him with a dazzling smile and slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow. His breath wheezed out and he felt his senses reel. Catching himself gazing down at the top of her head with what he knew was more
‘It’s exquisite, Seb,’ she said admiringly.
She opened the window beside her and leaned out enough so she could see the outside of the carriage, the cool breeze returning her body temperature to normal. The colour combination was reflected on the outside and on the corners of the carriage swung black and silver lanterns shedding a golden glow over the paintwork. Even the horses cantering at the front were uniformly black, right down to their thickly flowing manes.
Pulling her head back in, she turned to Seb with a puzzled frown. ‘Who’s driving the carriage?’
Seb was lounging casually in the corner, his long legs stretched diagonally across the floor of the carriage. ‘Anyone looking will see a driver, though he’s an illusion. I’m controlling the reins.’ He tapped the side of his head.
Emilia sat back against the plush backrest. ‘In that case I won’t distract you any further. I’d hate to end up in a ditch.’
His lips twitched in amusement but he didn’t comment.
*
The carriage turned off the road onto a long, winding driveway. As it rounded the last bend, Seb got his first look at Seeworth Manor.
He sucked in an awed breath. ‘Wow!’ he murmured under his breath.
Emilia had mentioned it was a mansion, but that hardly did it justice. It was more like a palace. Five stories high and at least three times the width of the White House at his best guess; it was dominated by a huge central turret, with two smaller turrets at either end. Built in pale sandstone, it glowed almost golden in the light shed from what seemed to be thousands of lanterns lining every exterior surface. His fingers itched for a pencil and sketching pad.
As they joined the queue of carriages approaching the exquisitely colonnaded portico, a sudden flurry of nerves hit Seb. His palms dampened with a sheen of sweat and he swallowed hard. High-pressure situations didn’t faze him; he was comfortable with peasant and soldier alike no matter what century he was in and warfare and intrigue merely presented a challenge to be overcome. But high society and all its inherent subtleties intimidated the hell out of him.
He darted a sideways look at Emilia. She appeared relaxed and a little excited. Having her here made him all the more nervous. He had no idea how to behave in formal social settings; his background wasn’t exactly conducive to developing good manners and social graces. Emilia, on the other hand, had moved within Ithaca’s highest social circles her entire life and he didn’t want to let her down. He stared broodingly out the carriage window, hoping somehow he’d pull a miracle off and not embarrass them both.
Emilia’s hand settled lightly on his forearm and his head whipped around to meet her eyes in surprise.
‘Cheer up, Sparky. It’s going to be okay,’ she said reassuringly.
‘That obvious, huh?’ His lips twisted in a grim smile. He hated appearing weak in front of her.
Before she could answer the carriage drew to a halt and a footman swept open the door with a graceful bow. ‘Welcome to Seeworth, my lord.’
‘Uh, thank you,’ he replied awkwardly. He shot Emilia an incredulous look and practically jumped out of the carriage, much to the astonishment of the unprepared footman. Belatedly remembering the role he was supposed to be playing, he turned and held his hand up to help Emilia out. Her fingers, encased in silk gloves, slid across his palm, sending unexpected jolts of electricity through his body. She descended the carriage steps with all the grace his exit had lacked and turned to smile at the footman, who gestured towards the wide steps leading up to the entrance of the House.
Emilia turned back to him with a dazzling smile and slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow. His breath wheezed out and he felt his senses reel. Catching himself gazing down at the top of her head with what he knew was more
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