reticule to her left hand, she grasped a great chunk of Muffin's hair and hauled the dog up the shallow stone steps and in at the huge carved doorway. Her blue eyes widened at the line of servants spread across the marble foyer and she released the dog, wiping her hand surreptitiously on her skirt. A flush rose to her cheeks but bracing her shoulders she stepped forward to address the impressive figure at the head of the line.
Before she could speak, the butler clicked his heels and inclined his upper body in greeting. "Welcome to Edgeworth, Miss Fraser."
"Thank you, Cartwright. I'm very pleased to be here," Amity said, extending her hand to the startled butler who shook it as though handling stolen goods.
"This is the housekeeper, Mrs. Trilby." Cartwright indicated a plump, matron whose work-roughened hands gripped her ring of keys.
"I'm very glad to meet you, Mrs. Trilby." Amity smiled at the woman who responded with a tentative smile of her own.
"If you'd be kind enough to follow me, Miss Fraser," the housekeeper said.
Amity hesitated, knowing that the household's first impression of her was very important. As always, she responded to instinct and placed a detaining hand on the older woman's arm. "If it's all right, Mrs. Trilby, I'd like to meet the others first so that I can begin sorting out names."
The housekeeper's mouth opened but no words came forth and in desperation the woman turned for instruction. Cartwright, more used to the idiosyncrasies of the gentry, coughed. The line of servants snapped to attention. Punctiliously the starchy butler introduced each of the members of the downstairs brigade, while Amity smiled and shook hands, wondering all the while how she would ever remember all of their names. They had just reached Jem, the pot scrubber, when the boy's shoulders began to shake with barely controlled laughter.
Amity had been aware of Muffin's cringing presence as she walked down the line. However she had tried to ignore him in order to maintain her dignity. Now at the touch of a cold nose on her leg she realized the dog had gone to extreme measures to gain reassurance. Turning, she looked down at the shaggy beast whose head was hidden beneath her skirts. She could feel the hot color washing across her face and she grasped Muffin's fur and tugged as her booted foot nudged his nose. Great soulful brown eyes peered up at her and she dropped to her knees to hug the dog.
"I'm afraid Muffin is as nervous as I am, coming to our new home," Amity apologized to the ring of interested faces.
There was a murmur of low-voiced encouragement before Cartwright extended his hand to help Amity to her feet. She murmured her gratitude as she and Muffin, followed Mrs. Trilby to the stone steps that swept up one side of the main hall. In her exhausted state she could not begin to focus on the myriad portraits that lined the stairs and the hallways they traversed. When the housekeeper stopped in front of a carved oak doorway, Amity sighed with relief.
"Lord Kampford said you were to have this room, miss."
As the door swung open, Amity emitted another sigh, this time of deep contentment and tiptoed across the exquisite oriental carpet. The room was square except for one corner where a rounded wall of windows jutted out from the building. On the one side she could look out at the rambling rooftops that towered above her and, on the other side, the gardens were spread out for her view. The four poster was hung with a billow of white material stitched with tiny violets. The windows were swathed in the same fabric and the walls were covered with a pale lilac silk. Whirling she turned to the housekeeper.
"I've never seen such a beautiful room, Mrs. Trilby. I know I shall be very happy here."
The housekeeper's face softened at the glowing look of the young girl. She was like a breath of spring, blowing through the old hall. It reminded her of how it used to be when Lord Max's mother was alive. For ten years there had been