pink dress for the occasion, the garment showed the signs of travel and needed a good sponging. She also regretted not taking more trouble with her hair; in her hurry to get on the road this morning, she’d wound her thick locks into their usual braids.
Knight introduced the staff to her one by one, and Fancy tried to remember everyone’s names. It was difficult since there were so many of them. After going down the line, Knight dismissed all of the servants except the butler and housekeeper.
“Her Grace will need a lady’s maid, Mrs. Treadwell,” Knight said to the latter.
“I shall gather a list of candidates.” Mrs. Treadwell had salt and pepper hair and a brisk yet friendly manner. “Does Her Grace have any specifications in mind?”
Hesitating, Fancy asked shyly, “Could you find someone who’s good with ’air?”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Mrs. Treadwell inclined her head.
Severin turned to address the butler, a man with an intimidatingly formal manner.
“Harvey, where is Lady Brambley?” he asked.
“She is in the drawing room with the rest of the family, Your Grace,” Harvey said, his voice as sonorous as a church bell.
Knight took Fancy’s hand, placing it on his sleeve.
“Come, sweet,” he said. “Time to meet the family.”
Family…or firing squad? she thought, swallowing.
Although Knight’s face was impassive, the bunched muscles of his forearm quivered beneath her fingertips. He was as apprehensive about the meeting as she was. On the journey over, he’d revealed more details about his family situation. He’d told her that his Aunt Esther, Lady Brambley, had supported his claim to the title but was rather aloof and disapproving. He’d described his ambivalent relationships with his siblings, especially the older ones who resented a stranger appearing in their lives and taking charge.
And now Fancy had to somehow gain his family’s approval. Knight hadn’t put it as such, but she understood how important it was for him to have a helpmate, someone who could bring his family together and guide his siblings toward respectability. It was a daunting endeavor, even for a well-bred lady. For a tinker’s daughter, the task would be Herculean.
Will I be worthy o’ the task? Fancy fretted.
They entered the drawing room, and she found herself the focus of five pairs of eyes. On her best day, she wasn’t comfortable with strangers, and she had to force herself to breathe in and out as Knight made the introductions. Even before he did so, she could guess who was who from his descriptions of them.
His Aunt Esther, Lady Brambley, sat stiffly upon a burgundy settee, her thin figure draped in a gown of black Parramatta silk. According to Knight, Esther had been in mourning since the death of her husband, Earl Brambley, over a decade ago. A sharp-featured woman in her sixties, Lady Esther had silver hair and narrow blue-grey eyes that tilted upward, giving her a feline appearance.
Beside her sat sixteen-year-old Cecily, a tawny-haired, green-eyed beauty. Her slender figure was draped in a muslin gown with a low neckline that straddled the line of respectability. Cecily had the kind of face that would stop a man in his tracks; unfortunately, her natural gifts were dimmed by her ill-tempered pout and excessive face paint.
It had to be Jonas, the eldest, who stood posed by the hearth, his arm propped on the mantel. He bore some similarity to Knight in his height and coloring. Yet there was nothing of Knight in the boy’s air of superiority and contrivances. He carried himself like some brooding poet; his longish hair, arranged in a windswept style, kept falling into his eyes.
The thirteen-year-old twins, Eleanor and Toby, shared a divan. Both were brown-haired and freckled. Eleanor had an open book in her lap, her intelligent brandy-colored eyes owlishly scrutinizing Fancy from behind a pair of spectacles. She had a solemn little face, her hair in plaits not unlike Fancy’s own. Beside her, Toby was eating a piece of cake, pausing to give Fancy an awkward wave that she nervously returned.
Knight led her to a pair of chairs across the coffee table from his aunt and Cecily and adjacent to the twins. Fancy perched on the edge of her seat, while Knight sat back, his expression stony.
“Welcome to the family, my dear,” Esther, Lady Brambley, said in cool tones. “It was such a surprise to hear from my nephew that he’d married.”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma’am,” Fancy said timidly.
Esther’s thin black brows inched toward her silver widow’s peak. “You may address me as Aunt