Manthy House had been built just off St. James Square and bore the unmistakable stamp of Robert Adam. Desirée hardly dared look at the man beside her in their coach when they drew up before the impressive building. Adam Chillworth lived in an attic in Mayfair Square whilst his mother and grandmother—and his brother—resided in a mansion where a graceful driveway curved before a grand facade rising four stories with a half-columned wall to the west where a dozen statues stood in oval recesses. More columns rose from the second floor to the stone balustrades fronting the roofs.
By the time Edwards pulled up the horses, the front doors to the house were opened and a butler, followed by an entourage of servants, filed out to line the steps. At Desirée’s insistence, a message had been sent ahead to tell the Countess and Lady Elspeth they might expect Adam—and his new wife.
“It is a beautiful place,” Desirée said but she detested the hard and closed expression on her husband’s face.
“It has nothing to do with me,” he said. “I grew up in a fine home, too, and although I’ll always be a north-countryman and proud of it, my father’s estate there has nothing to do with me. Now, my darling, I must ask you to allow me to lead the conversation. We shall not be here long. I have work to do this night.”
This dutiful wife convention might not be easy to follow. “Very well, Adam.” There were times to fight and times to be docile.
Rolly Spade-Filbert would arrive within the hour and wait for them several streets distant. After they left Manthy House he would accompany them to Vauxhall Gardens.
Edward opened the door of the coach, put down the steps and stood back while Adam got out. Adam handed Desirée down and she saw the pride in his eyes when he looked at her. She had deliberately asked Anne to come and help her dress—this was not the moment to ask Anne to reconsider her plans to move into Number 8—and had chosen a gown and cloak of Calamanco worsted in mulberry with dark fur edging the hooded cape. She also carried a muff but was cold despite the heavy outfit. Her teeth chattered, but she was not so foolish as to blame that on the temperature.
The butler, whom Adam said he had never seen before, came to meet them with an air of a man welcoming a long lost hero home and said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Chillworth, Princess. I’m Cripps. The Countess and Lady Elspeth are expecting you.”
“Gawd,” Adam said under his breath. “Nothing changes except the faces and some of those are the same.”
They had barely mounted the bottom step when a very old and very frail lady appeared in the doorway. Once tall, but stooped now, she wore widow’s black, which became her thick white hair. She smiled down upon Adam and her face became as lined as a crazed plate, a beautifully aged and crafted piece. She had blue-veined, transparent skin and light gray eyes that watered in the wind. A heavy cape enveloped her and a servant stood solicitously by whispering to her.
Countess Manthy leaned on a stick with a shiny wooden ball at its crown. She leaned on it with both hands, but managed to wave an arm and flutter long, be-jeweled fingers at her grandson.
“Forgive me,” Adam said in the strangest of voices. “She’s not strong. I should go to her. Attend my wife please, Cripps.” With that he ran to meet the old lady, taking the steps two at a time, and hardly hesitated before wrapping her in his arms. He turned and led her into the house with Desirée walking beside Cripps.
Countess Manthy stood in the middle of a towering foyer that rose through all the stories of the house and was crowned by a domed, stained-glass window. She pointed a wavering finger at Cripps and said, “I hope there is a good fire in my sitting room, my boy.”
Cripps, chunky, balding, and never to see fifty again, assured his mistress that everything was just as she liked it.
“Lovely,” the Countess said, making Desirée the focus of her pointing finger this time. “A lovely girl, Adam. Strong, too, I see it in her face. Welcome to our family, Your Highness.” A lace handkerchief trailed from the hand that held the stick and from time to time she pulled it free to dab her eyes.
The sitting room was an old-lady’s sitting room, one packed with treasures: glass-fronted cabinets filled with seashells, some exotic, some the simple kind so common on local beaches, china dolls in a row along the windowsills, porcelain statues crowding surface after surface. Miniatures covered so much of the walls that only inches of turquoise silk were visible between. The fires of fifty years had clouded a fluted, gold-etched mirror over the fireplace and Desirée was certain the comfortable old furniture had been there just as long.
The countess wanted little more than to sit in a favorite armchair and look silently at Adam. From time to time she looked at Desirée. When she beckoned her closer, a bony arm extended and Desirée smiled while her face was patted and examined. “You’re a good girl, Your Highness,” the Countess said in a voice like a breeze through dried grasses. “I know because Adam is good. Look after him.”
“Please call me Desirée.” Perhaps she was truly to become part of a real family.
“Desirée,” the lady said.
Adam looked anything but comfortable and glanced around repeatedly, looking for his mother no doubt or, quite probably, Lucas whom he must wish would materialize.
“Have I let you have them to yourself for long enough, Mama?” Lady Elspeth came into the room. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“Beautiful and far too scarce for this old woman’s likes,” Countess Manthy said, surprising Desirée. She flapped her handkerchief at Adam. “All that nonsense is over now. And don’t tell me things can’t be mended just like that. If I say they can, they can. Poof. Over. There has never been a bad word between us, boy, and your grandfather loved you dearly. He would love your bride dearly.” She gave a dry chuckle. “My spies tell me your brother doesn’t consider my grandson good enough for you, my dear. We knew of your marriage some days since but could not approach you until you were ready. I intend to invite the Count and his lady to tea and make sure he understands how wrong he is.”
“I should enjoy seeing that,” Desirée said and laughed aloud before she remembered herself. “I mean—”
“You mean that you would enjoy seeing your brother taken down a peg or two. Don’t blame you. I had a brother myself—stuffed shirt.”
“Cook is promising to outdo herself for dinner this evening,” Lady Elspeth said. “The staff is delighted. It is too quiet for them here.”
Desirée looked at Adam who shook his head. “Mother, I came to see both of you and to ask how you are. I see Grandmama couldn’t be better.”
“That’s what you think,” Countess Manthy said, settling her chin against her thin neck. “Wait until you’re my age and we’ll see if you think you’ve never been better.”
“Mama is well now,” Lady Elspeth said. “Now that you have come. We understand if you were not prepared to stay but please say you will come again.” After a pause she added, “I’m blackmailing you, but then, you knew that.”
“You blackmail so charmingly,” Adam said. “How is Lucas?”
Desirée held her breath.
“Very well, I think,” Lady Elspeth said, beaming. “He has gone to York to visit friends. He’s been gone almost two weeks. Before he left he was excited and I am so happy to know his spirits are lifted.” She gave Adam a knowing look from behind her mother’s back.
“Good,” Adam said, unsmiling.
In other words, Lucas had made an excuse for going away so that he wouldn’t worry his mother and grandmother. Desirée hoped she would get to know her brother-in-law better.
“I am beside myself,” Adam said, “but this has to be a very short visit. Desirée insisted we must not delay longer before coming to see you, but now we must leave. We already had a prior engagement.”
Lady Elspeth looked away but her mother never took her eyes from Adam’s face. “Tuesday evening? Will that suit? There will be dinner and some musicians. Your brother should have returned by then. We shall have a proper family reunion.”
“We would love to come,” Desirée said, giving Adam no chance to waffle.
“Good. I hope your brother and his wife will also agree to be here.”
Desirée stopped smiling. “I’m not sure he’ll—”
“He will come,” the old lady said. “Now, before you go I want to give you something.”
“No, no, please.”
Ignoring her, Countess Manthy worked a ring of deep yellow-gold over the enlarged knuckles of the first finger on her left hand. She glanced at Lady Elspeth who nodded and showed delight. “This has been in the Manthy family for generations. It has been passed down to the wives of the first sons to marry. It’s yours now. Put it on.”
Desirée looked to Adam who said, “Grandmama, you have always worn it. This is not the time—”
“It is the time.” Countess Manthy gave her grandson a stern stare. “My husband’s mother gave it to me when I married. We had no sons, but we have you and Lucas. You married first. Put this on your bride, please and I’ll tell you about it.”
“I am not a Manthy,” Adam said.
“There are no more Manthys. You are the only male heir we have.” She pushed the ring into his hand. “It cannot be made either larger or smaller. If it is too big for any of her fingers, the back may be wrapped with soft cloth.”
Still Adam hesitated, but then he made up his mind and took Desirée’s right hand in his. The heavy piece fitted the middle finger perfectly.
“When your own son marries you’ll pass it on,” the Countess said. “It is said to have belonged to Cleopatra. Look at the inscription on the dome. Translated it reads, Follow me. The dome may be lifted by inserting this tiny rod into the hole you see on one side.” She took a worn leather bag from a pocket that hung from her waist. “Keep it safe. Supposedly the ring has never been opened and a legend that once existed is long since lost. By some it has been said that there is a fantastic jewel inside. Others say there is or was a potent poison intended for the wife to take on the death of her husband.”
“Good Lord,” Adam said, reaching to take the thing from Desirée.
She put her hand behind her back and both the Countess and Lady Elspeth laughed. “You note that I appear to be alive,” Countess Manthy said. “Despite the loss of my dear husband. It is just a rather wonderful ritual and fun to think of all the women who have worn it—not one of whom followed instructions.”