Free The Pretenders by Joan Wolf

us. “Welcome, Mrs. Woodly,” he said to Mama. “Welcome, Miss Woodly. I am so pleased to have you as my guests.”
    He took Mama’s arm to escort her up the steps, and Reeve and I followed behind.
    “What a pretty house,” I said to Reeve.
    “You haven’t seen the best part yet,” he returned. ”It looks just like any other house from this side, but when you look out any of the windows on the other three sides you will see that Wakefield is actually situated right on the very top of the Downs. The views are magnificent.”
    “How lovely.”
    We were in the hall by now, and Lord Bradford said, “I’ll have my housekeeper show you and Miss Woodly to your rooms, Mrs. Woodly. Then perhaps you will join me for tea in the front drawing room and I will make you known to our other guests.”
    “Thank you,” Mama said.
    “I believe you have been given your usual room, Reeve,” Lord Bradford said next. ”You do not require a guide?”
    “Not at all, Bernard,” Reeve said blandly.
    Lord Bradford’s steady gray eyes regarded his young cousin. “It has been a long time since you visited Wakefield,” he said. “I don’t believe you have been here since your father died.”
    Reeve’s face darkened. “You know the reason for that, Bernard.”
    “Yes, I fear that I do.”
    Reeve turned toward the stairs.
    “Reeve,” Lord Bradford said. Impatiently, Reeve swung back. ”I am happy to welcome you also.”
    Reeve nodded his head. “Thank you,” he said. He made an infinitesimal shooing motion in my direction, and I turned and walked firmly up the stairs.
    Mama and I had adjoining bedrooms, and I had never inhabited such a large chamber in my life. That is, I couldn’t ever remember inhabiting such a large chamber. I supposed that in my earlier years, before John Woodly had ejected Mama and me from my father’s house, I might have lived in such a room.
    It was bright. That was what I liked about it most of all. The walls were painted a pale gold, the old tapestry bedspread was a faded gold, the carpet over the polished-wood floor was also old and faded and lovely and the old four-poster was solid oak.
    The room had a large window, and the warm summer breeze ruffled the drapes and filled the room with the scent of grass.
    I thought of the low ceilings, small windows, and cramped rooms of our cottage at home. This room alone was larger than our living room and dining room put together.
    I remembered what Reeve had said about the views, walked to the open window, looked out, and felt my breath catch in my throat.
    From where I stood, Wakefield Manor seemed to be perched on the very top of the world. With no trees to block the view, as there were in the front of the house, one could see how the stretching Downs fell away on the house’s every side. I leaned out the window, looked down, and saw in amazement that below me the green turf had actually been allowed to grow right up to the walls of the house itself. I inhaled deeply, and, mixed with the scent of the grass, I caught the whiff of salt air. Sure enough, in the far distance I could see just the faintest glimmer of the sea.
    What a beautiful house
, I thought.
What a pity that it belongs to a man with as little sensitivity as Lord Bradford
.
    I changed out of my wrinkled travel clothes into a sprigged-muslin afternoon dress and knocked on Mania’s door to see if she was ready. She was. Reeve was waiting for us at the top of the stairs, and all three of us went down to meet the rest of the party together.
    The drawing room was bathed in the light let in by two large windows, and sitting majestically between the windows, on a striped silk sofa, was a white-haired old lady dispensing tea. The remainder of the party was grouped around her in old gilded chairs with needlepoint covers.
    “Oh my God,” Reeve groaned in my ear, “it’s my Aunt Sophia.”
    Lord Bradford came to the door to greet us and lead us to meet Reeve’s aunt, who fixed me with gimlet eyes