Chapter Four
Trevorton House, London
They arrived late that evening and she'd already been shown her suite of rooms at Trevorton House. This was yet another set of rooms, she thought, with too much gilt for her tastes, but then all of Trevorton House was very richly decorated with gilt.
Famous paintings by Gainsborough, Van Dyck, Reynolds and Stubbs hung from the walls, furniture by Boulle and others, Sevres porcelain scattered around everywhere, and Aubusson rugs carpeted the floors and Colza chandeliers hung from the ceilings. It was a house made to show off the wealth of the Wainwright's, for them to be seen at their best advantage while in London.
Not that Wainwright Hall wasn't decorated itself with costly furnishings and such but it had the warmth of a country home where family could relax and be themselves. Enjoy the outdoors, their neighbors and the countryside.
Here everything was very formal including the servants. Foster, the butler, was for sure, high-in-the-instep, she thought, as she looked at her surroundings. Once again she'd been put into what should be the Marchioness of Trevorton's rooms raising even the eyebrows of both Foster and Mrs. Burlington, the housekeeper. Oliver's rooms were not down the corridor from her this time but through a set of doors leading into her bedchamber.
"Well, what do you think," Oliver said surprising her with his unannounced entrance as he stood in the doorway leading to his bedchamber.
"It is...nice," she replied and heard him chuckle.
"To...ornate for your tastes," he replied, a rakish grin on his handsome face.
"Yes," she replied. "I feel as if I'm in some palace somewhere." She wanted to add that she felt she shouldn't be here either, but she refrained. "It is most...impressive," she said instead.
"I've never cared much for this house myself," he told her coming into the room, stopping at the fireplace. "You should have grown up as a child here. I know I alone account for several valuable pieces of broken furniture or vases. This is no house to raise three rambunctious boys in. It was designed by Henry Holland and built by my great-grandfather to impress the Prince Regent, old George the third's son. I was told he and the Prince Regent was carousing buddies before my great-grandfather met and married my great-grandmother, who by the way restricted my great-grandfather's carousing ways. No one's had the nerve to change it since it was built other then a few new carpets and upholstering of some of the furniture. I have my own townhouse a few blocks from here."
"This is now your house you know," she told him with a smile. "Why didn't we go to your townhouse if you are more comfortable there?"
"This house can be protected better," he replied. "I sent for two of my men to pay us a visit in the morning. They will stay here with you until I return from seeing Sir Alex at Scotland Yard. I think you will like them."
"My bodyguards?"
"Yes," he answered but thought no one was guarding her body but him. "I had Foster see to a light meal for us, it should be ready about now."
* * *
Markham House, London
"Alex sent us a missive stating that nothing new has been learned from the notice in the newspapers except those wanting to claim the reward but knew not a thing about where she is or what has happened to her," Charles Landsdowne, the Duke of Markham told his son and daughter-in-law, the Marquess and Marchioness of Dalquist, his daughter, Lady Beatrice Payne, his granddaughter and her husband, the Earl and Countess of Twynforde.
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Under His Protection
RomanceOliver Wainwright finds himself elevated to Marquess of Trevorton upon the unexpected tragic deaths of his father and oldest brother. As he tries to deal with his loss an unexpected accident brings into his life a beautiful unconscious unknown woman...