That was depressing. No one liked to think they were transparent.
‘Merely nerves—your housekeeper is going to despise my lack of knowledge and I cannot imagine that, after running matters in the absence of a lady of the house for years, she is going to look very kindly on my bumbling efforts.’
‘She will be delighted, believe me. You have the sensitivity not to try and ride roughshod over her and she will enjoy showing you her kingdom. Day to day there is nothing for you to do but agree menus with Cook and make any decisions that, until now, Mrs French has had to lay before Grandfather. You may imagine how well they get along on matters such as deciding how to replace the hangings in the Blue Suite or whether we require another parlourmaid!’
He laughed and she found herself laughing with him. Yes, the crusty Marquess would give short shrift to choices of braid and tassels.
‘Be yo
urself,’ Ivo said. He shifted the reins into his whip hand and laid the left over hers where they lay clasped nervously on her lap. ‘I have every confidence in you.’
‘Which gives me a very poor opinion of your judgement,’ Jane retorted, but she did not attempt to free her hands and he kept his, warm in his leather gloves, over them for a heartbeat longer.
To her relief Ivo did not try and lecture her on the house as they drove, but pointed out landmarks on the way.
* * *
By the time they turned in through the gates, their high pillars topped by rearing seahorses for some reason she must ask about, she felt more relaxed than she had done in days.
Then the drive went around a bend and she could see, spread out in front of her, the park and the house at its heart. Arriving in a closed carriage, in the company of her parents who were even more nervous than she was, the impact had been far less and somehow she had not realised just how large her new home was.
‘What is wrong?’ Ivo asked, steadying the pair as a small herd of deer ran across the drive.
‘Wrong?’
‘You gulped.’
‘No wonder! Just look at it. How many bedchambers are there?’
‘I have no idea. Too many, no doubt. But Mrs French will be able to tell you.’
‘It was a rhetorical question.’ Surely he could comprehend what a shock this was, although, of course, she should have expected it. ‘I will have to take a ball of twine with me everywhere, like Theseus in the Minotaur’s labyrinth, or I will get hopelessly lost and my skeletal remains will be found in some distant corridor a hundred years hence.’
There was a suppressed snort from behind that reminded Jane that there was a groom with them and it behoved an almost-countess to be discreet in front of the servants.
‘Take a footman with you everywhere at first,’ Ivo suggested. ‘But it is hard to get lost. We had an ancient relative staying when I was a child. She was confused, poor dear, but she would wander all over and then shout when she became too lost. Someone always heard her. You can work out roughly where you are by looking out of the window, after all. The park is littered with eye-catchers which make useful points of reference.’
Jane looked around and saw he was right. Even a quick glance revealed a little Grecian temple on one hill, a glimpse of a marble cupola through the woods on the other side and the glint of water curling around the side of the house.
‘What is that down in that hollow? A little chapel? It looks charming.’
‘An ice house with the entrance disguised as a hermit’s cell,’ Ivo said, not even glancing in that direction. ‘It is disused now. Grandfather had one built closer to the kitchens.’
‘It would make a very pleasant short walk, I imagine.’
‘Not at all. The ground is boggy and there are biting insects,’ Ivo said shortly, then seemed to realise how dismissive that sounded. ‘The best walks are around the lake, or up to the temple, and the park has a great many rides.’
‘I cannot ride,’ Jane admitted cautiously, wary after his reaction to her desire to walk to the ice house.
‘I will teach you. Are you nervous of horses?’
‘Not at all, but then I have rarely encountered one at very close quarters. I should like to learn how to drive more than to ride. Just a pony cart, I think.’
‘For rural expeditions with your easel and paints?’
‘Exactly,’ she said, relaxing. ‘Or perhaps a donkey?’
‘Countesses do not drive donkey carts,’ Ivo said, making her nervous all over again with visions of smart little vehicles and showy ponies that she must learn to drive with a dash when all she wanted was something she could amble about the countryside in.