didn’t tell you, my dear, because I didn’t wish to worry you.”
Gwen reached the bottom of the stairs, and Venetia caught her free hand, gently holding it. “No more secrets, Gran. Please. If we are to survive this, we need truth between us.”
“No secrets? Child, half the fun in life lies in secrets. But yes, I’ll agree to the spirit of those terms. Now come along. Phoebe and I were preparing the coach when you arrived. It’s time we left for Hartland.”
“Isn’t the party two days away? Surely we cannot arrive earlier than expected.”
“Yes, but we will need to stay at an inn on the way. We can extend our stay at the inn another day and then finish the journey to Hartland.”
It seemed that Gran had planned for everything. Venetia should have been relieved, but she wasn’t. Her grandmother intended to see her good and married.
She just hoped Gran didn’t intend for her to put expedience ahead of happiness.
2
Adrian Montague groaned as he was shaken awake by a gentle hand.
“It’s half past five,” a sleepy voice murmured, trailing off into a yawn.
Adrian sat up. “Christ.” He raked his hands through his hair before glancing at Benjamin, one of the other footmen employed at Hartland Abbey. Their shared room had a pair of tiny wood-framed beds, one washstand, and a chest of drawers they split between them. Life in service meant everything was shared, right down to the livery clothes on his back.
He had been a footman at Hartland for ten years. Now nine and twenty, he was coming into the age where men like him would either move on or advance into an underbutler position. But he doubted that Hartland’s butler, Mr. Reeves, would consider him for the position. Not given his family history.
It was one thing to allow the bastard son of a duke to stand as a pretty decoration in livery, but it was quite another to let him move into a more prominent position within such a noble household. Mr. Reeves, while an affable and fatherly man to all employed at the Abbey, was not quite so free and forward as to propose such an idea to Lord Devon and his duchess, Lady Devon.
“Come on, Adrian. I smell breakfast. We’d better get a move on.” Benjamin lit a candle in the dark interior of the basement room, giving them enough light to change into their uniforms of black breeches and gold-striped waistcoats.
When Adrian was dressed, he joined a few of the other lower staff as they ate a quick breakfast of toast and poached eggs. Then he accepted a tray for Mr. Reeves from the cook, Marion Webster.
“Best to wake up a bit, dear,” Mrs. Webster teased and pinched his cheek, winning her a rare smile. Adrian had a soft spot for the old girl. She was the mother of Phillip Webster, the valet for the Duke of Devon’s second-oldest son, William Hampton, or Lord William.
Adrian climbed the winding stairs to the ground floor to wake Mr. Reeves and to deliver his breakfast. It was going to be a long day for everyone belowstairs. The Abbey was to play host to a house party for the next week. Coaches would be arriving throughout the day. Everyone would need tending to, luggage carried, tea and food brought up, and new servants settled. He and the rest of the staff would not go to bed until well after midnight tonight.
He knocked lightly on Mr. Reeves’s door, and the butler called for him to enter. He set the tray down on the small table beside the butler’s bed.
“Morning, Adrian. Is everyone else up?”
“Yes, Mr. Reeves.”
“Good. See that everyone is on schedule. I will confirm with Mrs. Miller as to the guest list. Make sure you and Benjamin watch the bells for coaches arriving.”
“Yes, Mr. Reeves.”
Adrian descended back down into the kitchens and dodged around sleepy-eyed upstairs maids, grooms, and a few of the upstairs servants, who were all starting their day.
Adrian knew all of them well, but he usually kept to himself, even though he counted many of them as friends. It was easier that way. The scandal of his birth could damage many of those around him. He was the bastard son of a duke, but not the Duke of Devon. No, the honor of his parentage was that of the Duke of Stratford, who had seduced his children’s young governess after his wife had died. When society had discovered the affair, Stratford had been forced to send