of eyes regarded her, and somewhat piqued by their ill-concealed humor, Carolyn retorted, "Well, all this carousing is fine for you young people, but when you get to my age, it is not enjoyable." Waving a gloved hand at them, she continued, "Winnie has asked us to stay, and I thank goodness for it. Winnie will know exactly what to do to relieve my aching bones. Why, she knows exactly what to do and when. Never flustered, no, not Winnie. Why, did I ever tell you about ..."
Resting his head against the squab, Brian rolled, his eyes heavenward. The girls had been treated to a number of Carolyn's long, confusing stories during the voyage, and prepared themselves for another. They happened to glance at Brian and, seeing his reaction, could not suppress a laugh escaping from their lips.
Carolyn was stopped midway into her story by their laughter. A confused expression crossed her face as she glanced between the girls and her second son, who sat beside her, a calm look etched across his face.
Brian responded with an arched brow and inquired, "Yes, madam, you were saying."
Tiffany was able to stifle her laughter, but Alysse giggled louder.
Still not understanding what Alysse found amusing, Carolyn quickly admonished her, saying, "Stop giggling for naught, Alysse; people will think you've gone daft."
Further comments were forestalled by the halting of the carriage. Tiffany's heart pounded harder and harder and her hands began to sweat when the carriage door was opened by a footman dressed in blue and white livery, the colors of Breatoney. Tiffany was assisted down by the footman. While she waited for the others to alight, she gazed up at the house that was to be her home. She took in the marble edifice three stories high. Terraced levels led to the front entry, which was covered by a large portico that served as a second-floor balcony, supported by large pillars, giving the relatively new building a Grecian flair.
An impeccably dressed butler answered their summons, taking their coats and hat. Tiffany stood in the foyer gazing up at its ceiling, which vaulted to a peak three stories up with windows, allowing the flow of light to burst onto the foyer. A balcony encircled the foyer, supported by carved columns. In the center of the foyer was a U-shaped staircase, which curved gracefully and met at the second-floor landing.
"Her Grace is awaiting you in the salon." The butler handed their coats to the waiting footman. "If you will kindly follow me." He proceeded up the staircase, leading them through an arched doorway to the gallery.
Tiffany stopped so suddenly when her eyes caught the extraordinary view of the formal gardens that she nearly stepped on Lady Devonshire's heel.
"Lady Devonshire and party have arrived, Your Grace." The butler stepped aside, allowing them to enter.
Winifred De Namourie, the dowager duchess of Breatoney, was sitting on a settee in front of a large group of windows. The sun streaming in behind her bounced off her graying auburn hair. Bright emerald eyes gleamed out, touching the assembled group before her. She rose gracefully, grasping Lady Devonshire's hands in her own. In perfect French she said, "Carolyn, you are looking as young as ever. It appears traveling agrees with you."
"Oh bosh, Winnie. You always say the nicest things, but I feel as old as Methuselah. Traveling is for the young, I keep telling Charles. I am practically worn out with all that bumping along, and do believe my lumbago is flairing up again."
Smiling gently, Winifred led her dear friend to a soft, comfortable chair. "I remembered your lumbago, Carolyn, and as we speak, water is being heated for a nice warm soak. But first, I thought you'd like a spot of tea."
Carolyn laughed. "Oh, Winnie, all these years in France and Italy, and still the proper Englishwoman. Perhaps a bit of sherry first." Carolyn settled herself comfortably.
Winnie turned to face the others, her green gaze resting on Alysse. "My child, you have grown. Do