9

Hannah and Isabel placed the deep-pocketed fitted sheet onto the massive mattress, making sure any excess fabric was firmly tugged underneath. Then they covered it with another cotton sheet before placing the silk duvet over the bed.

"Do you know who is coming today?" Hannah asked Isabel while she was fluffing the goose down pillows. The older maid looked up with a clueless shrug.

"I thought Ms. Shirley told you," she said and went to arrange a bunch of fresh cut lilacs into a crystal vase.

"All she said to me was that Her Grace is having an important guest coming to stay," Hannah replied. "Whoever that person is, he or she is going to be here for a long time otherwise we wouldn't have to prepare the yellow room, am I right?"

It was called the yellow room for it was painted in an extremely bright Georgian yellow. The walls were filled with collections of paintings and vintage photographs of people and landscapes, all were arranged in an orderly fashion. The high ceiling had a single chandelier with a brass-colored fan. Brilliant sunlight would stream through the three arched windows that faced the meadow and the pond. It was one of the special rooms in the castle and was only preserved for relatives or important people.

Only twice the yellow room had been used. One was when Duchess of Devonshire paid a visit to Violet's grandparents. The other was for a Swedish princess coming to celebrate Violet's sixteenth birthday. It came with no surprise that the maids and everyone else in the castle were quite inquisitive about the next person.

"I don't know. Maybe Her Grace is getting back with Lady Eleanor and she's going to stay here? I heard that she has returned," Isabel said.

"You're not kidding?" Hannah said with a look of surprise. "Do you think Her Grace is still in love with her? After everything?"

"Who knows?" Isabel said with another shrug. "Rich people are complicated. But we will find out who that is sooner or later anyway. Let's get back to work before Ms. Shirley arrives or we'll be in trouble."

"Why do I have a strong bubbling feeling in my guts?" Hannah said. "You know when you can almost feel the electric charges in the air before the storm? That's what I'm feeling."

"Maybe you're just hungry, and you're making no sense," Isabel said with an eye-roll.

"Well, think about it, Isabel, whoever is coming must be very important to Her Grace," Hannah said then clasped her hands together with a mischevious glint in her eyes. "I'm so excited about this."

~*~

After a night spent in London and a quick trip to Harrods, Clare found herself sitting inside an opulent Phantom that was now taking them to Avebury. She began to feel a little worried about being surprisingly calm with everything. She just left her family and took a plunge into the unknown world, a world of luxury, something she had only seen in a TV show. Before she could work herself up to paranoia, she decided to shut all thoughts and turned to the other woman sitting next to her.

"Thank you for taking the trouble to do all this for me, Ms. Shirley," Clare said to the older woman. Shirley looked up and shook her head with a warm smile.

"Call me Shirley, and there's no trouble at all," she said. "In fact, I was a bit worried that you might've been offended and thought how condescending of me to drag you to a salon right after you just landed the other day."

Clare laughed. "No, trust me, I'm glad you did. I would drag me to get a proper haircut too. I must have looked a fright."

It was Shirley's turn to laugh. She was relieved that Clare had such an easy-going persona, and her humility set everyone at ease the entire time.

"I beg to differ," she said. "A little trimming was all it took for you to blossom. You just made my job a lot easier."

"You're too kind, Ms. Shirley," Clare said with a shy blush.

"Just call me, Shirley," the secretary said and patted Clare's hand reassuringly. "And I know that you have a lot of questions you want to ask me since we have been very private about the whole thing. It's just that the Duchess prefers to avoid all kinds of publicity at the moment."

"I understand," Clare said. "I'm willing to do whatever you require as long as my parents are taken care of."

"And they will," Shirley said. "Once your last name is changed to Wintour, you've got nothing to worry about."

Clare looked down at her fidgeting hands before turning her face to the secretary again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course," said Shirley.

"What will happen if the Duchess doesn't get married?"

"Well, it's a long complicated family story," Shirley said. "Let's just say Her Grace's father was not fond of her lifestyle and it had created a huge rift between them. Before the Duke passed away, he had written a will that ties his daughter to an unbreakable tradition. Everything that is under the Wintour name will go to her uncle if his conditions aren't met."

"So the Duchess has to find someone like me or else she will be left with nothing?" Clare said.

"Not really," Shirley said with a shake of her head. "She still inherited the title as a peerage. In fact, she's still regarded as one of the richest women in England, but what she can't let go of is her family home. The estate might only worth about five hundred million pounds on the market today, but it's unfathomable for the Duchess to lose it."

"Did you say only worth five hundred millions?" Clare said with wide eyes.

Shirley chuckled.

"If that much amount astonishes you, you might set yourself up for a bigger surprise," she said, amused at the look of Clare's shocked face. "That's why I told you not to be worried about anything. All we have to do now is get you ready to meet Her Grace and sign the contract. Then everyone can relax and go back to their state of normalcy again."

Clare did wish it was as easy as that, but she had a feeling that normal was going to be a lot different for her.

The Phantom rolled silently through the most beautiful countryside she'd ever seen. It had a pretty road, running along between wild privet hedges, with now and again a bit of balsamy fir wood to drive through. There were wild plums hung out their filmy bloom. The sweet-scented air seeped through the window as the car passed the rolling hills and meadows that sloped away in the distance. Clare couldn't take her eyes off the breathtaking scenery. In the horizon mists of pink and purple, she felt as if she was looking at a painting painted by a soulful artist.

"Welcome to Averbury, Clare," Shirley said, noticing her entranced stupor. Clare turned back from the window.

"We already arrived?" she said.

"The castle is still farther away," Shirley replied. "But yes, all of this is Averbury."

Clare tried not to look ridiculous but she couldn't help staring open mouth at the paradise that belonged only to one woman — the woman who was soon to be her wife.