Devil's Daughter (The Ravenels #5) - Lisa Kleypas Page 0,2
it had been at his suggestion that she oversaw his own children’s nursery. She was a calm and comfortable woman, her figure stout in a way that made her lap the perfect place for children to sit while she read to them, her shoulders just right for crying babies who needed soothing. Her hair was a crisp white meringue swirled beneath the cambric pouf of her cap. The physical rigors of her occupation, such as chasing after rambunctious children or lifting chubby infants from the bath, were now largely left to a young nursemaid. Nanny’s mind was still sharp, however, and aside from needing an extra nap here and there, she was as capable as she had always been.
The caravan of fine carriages progressed along the drive, conveying the entourage of Challons and their servants, as well as a mountain of leather-bound bags and trunks. The estate grounds, like the surrounding farmland, were beautifully maintained, with deep mature hedges and old stone walls covered with climbing roses and soft, fluttery bursts of purple wisteria. Jasmine and honeysuckle perfumed the air where the carriages came to a slow halt in front of the portico.
Nanny awoke from her light snooze with a start and began to gather odds and ends into her carpetbag. She took Stephen from Phoebe, who followed Justin as he bounded out.
“Justin . . .” Phoebe said uneasily, watching him dart through the mass of servants and family members like a hummingbird, chirping little hellos. She saw the familiar figures of Devon and Kathleen Ravenel—Lord and Lady Trenear—welcoming the arriving guests. There were her parents, and her younger sister Seraphina, their brother Ivo, and Pandora and Cassandra, and dozens of people she didn’t recognize. Everyone was laughing and talking, animated by excitement over the wedding. A shrinking feeling came over Phoebe at the thought of meeting strangers and making conversation. Sparkling repartee wasn’t even a possibility. If only she were still dressed in protective mourning, with a veil concealing her face.
In the periphery of her vision, she saw Justin trotting up the front steps unaccompanied. Aware of Nanny starting forward, Phoebe touched her arm lightly. “I’ll run after him,” she murmured.
“Yes, milady,” Nanny said, relieved.
Phoebe was actually glad Justin had wandered inside the house—it gave her an excuse to avoid the gauntlet of guests being received.
The entrance hall was busy, but it was calmer and quieter than outside. A man directed the tumult of activity, giving instructions to passing servants. His hair, a shade of brown so dark it could easily have been mistaken for black, gleamed like liquid as the light moved over it. The man listened closely to the housekeeper as she explained something about the arrangement of guest bedrooms. Simultaneously he tossed a key to an approaching under-butler, who caught it with a raised hand and dashed off on some errand. A hall boy carrying a tower of hatboxes stumbled, and the dark-haired man reached out to steady him. After adjusting the stack of boxes, he sent the boy on his way.
The man radiated a crisp masculine vitality that seized Phoebe’s attention. He was easily over six feet tall, with the athletic brawn and the sun-bronzed complexion of a man who spent a great deal of time outdoors. But he wore a well-tailored suit of clothes. How curious. Perhaps he was an estate manager?
Her thoughts were interrupted as she noticed her son had gone to investigate the elaborate wood carving on one side of the grand double staircase. She followed him quickly. “Justin, you mustn’t wander off without telling me or Nanny.”
“Look, Mama.”
Her gaze followed the direction of his small forefinger. She saw a carving of a little nest of mice at the base of the balustrades. It was a playful and unexpected touch amid the grandeur of the staircase. A smile spread across her face. “I like that.”
“Me too.”
As Justin crouched to stare at the carving more closely, a glass marble dropped out of his pocket and hit the inlaid parquet floor. Dismayed, Phoebe and Justin watched the little sphere roll away rapidly.
But its momentum was brought to an abrupt halt as the dark-haired man pinned it with the tip of his shoe in display of perfect timing. As he finished his conversation, he bent to pick up the marble. The housekeeper bustled away, and the man turned his attention to Phoebe and Justin.
His eyes were shockingly blue in that suntanned face, his brief smile a dazzling flash of white. He was very handsome, his