Chapter 1 Everything that deceives may be said to enchant. -Plato October 1832 Warwickshire, England Come see who I found wandering the corridors." I looked up from the sheet music at the sound of my father-in-law''s voice, my fingers trailing to a stop along the pianoforte keys. I couldn''t help but smile at the sight of Lord Gage ambling toward me, still favoring his recently injured right leg, with the warm and wriggling bundle of my daughter cradled in his arms. "Wandering, was she?" I countered in amusement. Given the fact that she was all of nearly seven months old and unable to crawl yet, the idea of her wandering anywhere was absurd. It seemed far more likely he''d liberated her from her nanny''s care in the nursery. "Well .
I could tell she was thinking it. If only she''d been able to work out the mechanics of this thing called walking first." Lord Gage grinned down at Emma, and she squealed happily in response before returning her gaze to the object which had captured her attention. Truth be told, it was the same object that had caught my attention when I''d first entered the drawing room at Bevington Park upon our arrival two months prior. The Broadwood grand pianoforte had gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the tall western-facing windows, practically beckoning to be played. One might have been forgiven for believing that the manor''s owner was an accomplished pianist, such was the pride of place the instrument held, but I knew this to be untrue. In fact, the next day when I''d sat upon the bench, I''d suspected I was the first person to do so since the pianoforte had been delivered and tuned. The instrument was purely part of the chamber''s aesthetic, for Lord Gage decorated his homes for effect rather than to suit his comfort and taste.
But given the enjoyment I''d received from playing the magnificent instrument, this was one matter in which it would be disingenuous for me to complain. I ran my fingers lightly over the keys, repeating the last phrase of music I''d played from one of Schubert''s Impromptus. My husband, Sebastian Gage, had gifted me the sheet music of the set of impromptus for my birthday that spring, but I''d had little time to practice them in earnest until our arrival in Warwickshire. Some of the pieces were beyond my ability, and I would never be able to play them with great skill, but I had become determined to master the others. Or at least to do a credible job in performing them for my own pleasure. Emma cooed in response, tipping forward in her grandfather''s arms and reaching toward me. I sat her on my lap and predictably she lurched toward the keys, slamming her open palms down with relish as the pianoforte issued a series of discordant notes. There was nothing for it but to smile and hold fast to her little body lest she tumble forward in her unrestrained efforts.
"A veritable prodigy," Lord Gage proclaimed even as he winced at one particularly strident chord. Though I''d been given over two months to grow accustomed to it, it was still difficult sometimes to reconcile the affectionate man before me with the father-in-law I had known. And if it was difficult for me, it must be doubly so for my husband, who had only known his father as cold, contemptuous, and impossible to please. Not that that side of Lord Gage had vanished entirely. He was still hard and critical, especially when crossed, but at least he was making an effort to build a relationship with us based on mutual respect and trust rather than merely obligation and duty. He might never hold as much esteem or devotion for his son or me as he did his granddaughter, but that was something we were both willing to accept. Particularly given the fact that Lord Gage was Emma''s only living grandparent. "What''s this I hear?" Gage declared as he strode into the room.
His golden hair was rumpled, and his sun-bronzed cheeks flushed from his morning ride. "Our daughter is giving her first recital and I wasn''t invited." Emma offered him a toothless grin, her golden curls-so like her father''s-escaping from the sides of her cap. A trail of drool dribbled from her bottom lip and I managed to catch it before it fell to the ivory keys. "Oh, this is just the prelude," I replied. Gage flinched as Emma brought her hands down with more strength that I''d anticipated, producing several resounding crashes. Her father struggled to maintain his grin. "Oh, yes?" Lord Gage chuckled.
"Which direction did you ride today? Toward the lake?" "Aye, and down through the pastures near Weethley." I listened absentmindedly as the men discussed the estate-which my husband would one day inherit from his father. Lord Gage had been granted his barony and this property by the king a little over two years prior for his services during the late war with Napoléon and his more recent efforts on the sovereign and his friends'' behalf as a gentleman inquiry agent. As such, Gage had spent little time here since then, and he had much to learn. Truth be told, when we''d first arrived in late August, I''d been a little overawed. I hadn''t expected a hovel, but neither had I anticipated this prime bit of real estate. Clearly it spoke to the immensity of either the king''s affection for, or gratitude to, my father-in-law. Perhaps both.
Something that immediately raised questions in the cynical side of my brain. What exactly had Lord Gage done to inspire such gratitude? What delicate matter had he investigated or orchestrated to the sovereign''s satisfaction? After all, I was better acquainted than most with the secrets the wealthy, titled, and powerful might hide. But I also acknowledged that my father-in-law''s friendship with King William IV was long-standing. Lord Gage had served under his command on the HMS Pegasus when the king was still a younger son-never expected to inherit the Crown from his older brother-and he''d remained a faithful friend through all the years that followed. He would, though, be the first to admit that their friendship had only lasted because he had proved to be useful to the king and his friends. Even so, this estate was quite the reward for such efforts. Of course, I had no idea what state it had been in when Lord Gage had been granted it, or to what expense he''d had to go to in order to restore and refurbish it. Many of the furnishings and interiors were new, but that might have been less from need and more my father-in-law''s desire that his home be all that was fashionable and au courant.
Regardless, upon seeing the size of the estate, Gage had begun to feel more keenly the responsibility he held to it. One day, he would not only be in charge of the manor, but also all the land and workings, and the people who labored upon it. Their care and management-and to a great extent their future prosperity-would rest on his shoulders. Of course, that day might be decades from now. But then again, it might be next week. The attacks made on Lord Gage in August had awakened us all to the realization that our loved ones'' tomorrows were never guaranteed. "Have you given any greater thought to the dower house?" Lord Gage asked. Gage''s eyes lifted to meet mine.
"I have." Deciding our ears had suffered enough punishment, and sensing Gage wished for me to take part in this conversation as much as I wanted to, I pushed to my feet. Emma immediately protested. Gage set aside his riding gloves and crop and reached for her. "Now, what''s all this fussing?" He lifted her high into the air, transforming her cries into laughter as he let his arms drop as if he might let her fall. He repeated this several times as we made our way over to the pair of rosewood sofas positioned near the hearth. A blanket lay folded over one arm and I spread it over the portion of open rug farthest from the crackling fire. Gage set Emma down with a pillow propped behind her lest she topple backward and Lord Gage produced one of her ragdolls from his coat pocket, handing it to her.
There were those who might say children had no place in the grand public rooms of such a stately home. That their proper domain lay in the nursery, and only the nursery. But I was not of that mind-set, and to my shock and somewhat utter disbelief, neither was Lord Gage. I had anticipated numerous arguments over the subject upon our arrival, but as often as not, he was the one removing his granddaughter from the nursery or brushing aside the messes babies inevitably made as inconsequential. Of course, he might have felt differently if he''d been the one forced to clean spit-up from the Aubusson rug or spittle from the silk cushions. The maids and housekeeper might rightly have resented Emma for causing them extra work, but her big blue eyes and happy grins had charmed them as surely as her grandfather. Gage turned to me with a contented smile as he settled onto the sofa beside me while his father leaned forward to jabber with Emma. My husband smelled of wind, sun, and horse, but it was something I''d grown accustomed to since our arrival in Warwickshire.
He''d begun taking daily rides across the various parts of the estate, both for his own enjoyment and to better acquaint himself with the property. Upon occasion, I''d also suspected he was escaping his father, but given their contentious relationship in the past, those instances were far fewer than I''d anticipated. Sometimes I even joined him. The country suited my husband. I''d noticed this before, but now it was driven home even further. With his charm and good looks, he might thrive among the civilized societ.