Free The Widowed Countess by Linda Rae Sande Page A

on the glossy marble floor of the vestibule and hall. Before his arrival at Norwick House just moments before, Daniel had thought to insist on a guest suite, unsure as to the length of his stay and not wanting to disrupt a household already reeling from an untimely death. But Porter seemed to expect his arrival and commented that the earl’s suite was in readiness.
    “Already?” he’d asked, masking his surprise by keeping his face impassive. Daniel had managed to become quite good at the expression of blandness – it was the only one he allowed to show these days.
    “Yes, my lord,” Porter responded with a nod.
    “And what of my brother’s ... effects?” Daniel asked this last with a bit of trepidation. Although he had on occasion employed an adequate tailor in the village near Norwick Park, he did not have the quantity of clothing he would require for formal dinners and ton events in London. The last thing he wanted to have to deal with at this point was an appointment with a London-based tailor and the wait for suitable clothes to be made.
    “The countess was quite insistent they be kept for you or your valet’s review,” Porter offered in reply. “Her thought was that everything would fit you, but she wasn’t sure if the styles would be to your liking.”
    Daniel considered this comment, wondering why it would bother him. He wasn’t that different from his brother – in anything . If a suit of clothing suited David, it would no doubt suit him. “Very generous of her ladyship,” Daniel offered, pausing as Porter opened the door to the earl’s bedchamber. He stepped over the threshold as the majordomo stepped aside, pausing for only a moment as his gaze swept the room. The deep navy blue fabrics that draped the windows and formed the bed curtains and counterpane were an elegant contrast with the rich golds that made up the fringe trims, pillows and chair coverings. The two large dressers, matching nightstands, and four-poster bed were all made from rosewood, their lines rather more masculine than Daniel would expect for such furnishings. A couple of paintings graced the walls, although, with his quick perusal, he didn’t take the time to determine their artists or their subjects. An Aubusson patterned carpet covered the entire floor.
    “This will do fine,” Daniel said as he strode toward the nearest paneled door. Pangs of hunger reminded him he hadn’t yet eaten that morning. “I could do with some breakfast, Porter.”
    The majordomo nodded from where he stood. “I’ll see to it the breakfast parlor is set up immediately. Do you have a preference as to your morning meal, my lord?”
    Daniel almost allowed a smile. He was definitely in civilization again if he could actually request a specific food and expect it to be served. “Eggs, toast, kippers, chocolate and coffee,” he listed without having to think about it.
    “Very good, my lord. I’ll see to it.” Porter bowed from his place at the door and disappeared down the hall.
    Daniel considered the dressing room door, curious as to what lay beyond. Did her ladyship’s clothing hang in the same room? Or did she have a separate dressing room? The doors would no doubt connect even if there were two rooms, he considered. The thought had his heart racing even before he opened the door.
    The scent of apple blossoms drifted past his nose. He closed his eyes as he inhaled. Clarinda ! Just the thought of her, probably still asleep on the other side of the wall of the dressing room, made him aroused. Suddenly aware of the bulge behind the placket of his buckskin breeches, Daniel forced himself to think of something else. Clothes . He should be thinking about clothes.
    Although the dressing room wasn’t lit by its own window, he could see from the light that filtered in from the open door that his brother had been a clothes horse. A series of shelves held stacks of breeches, pantaloons, waistcoats, and perfectly folded cravats in both black and