Scandalous Desires (Maiden Lane #3)(74)

“Ma’am?” Mrs. Bittner called.

Silence had paused by a huge painting of a ship in harbor. “Coming.”

She hurried after and found the housekeeper standing in the doorway of a bright little room. Silence entered, looking around. It was a beautiful room, done in several shades of blue. In fact, it rather reminded her of her rooms at Michael’s palace. She turned to look at the walls and saw the connecting door almost immediately.

No need to ask whose rooms lay beyond.

“I’ll have the girls bring up some hot water,” Mrs. Bittner was saying. “We’ll have supper at seven. That’ll give you several hours to refresh yourself and rest.”

“Thank you,” Silence replied. She hesitated, then blurted out. “How long have you known Mr. Rivers?”

Mrs. Bittner had been drawing the curtains. She paused and looked over her shoulder. “Bless you, dearie, it’s been five or more years since Mr. Rivers hired me and Bittner to look after Windward House.”

“Windward House?” Silence asked, utterly charmed. “Is that what it’s called?”

Mrs. Bittner smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “As long as anyone in the area can remember. We thought Mr. Rivers might want to change the name to Rivers House, but he said Windward House suited him fine.”

“And he’s lived here ever since?” Silence asked, just to see what the housekeeper would say.

“Well, when he has a chance he does,” Mrs. Bittner replied. “His business takes him away most of the time, poor gentleman.”

“What is Mr. Rivers’s business?”

“Don’t you know, ma’am?” Mrs. Bittner’s brows crinkled. “He’s a shipbuilder, is our Mr. Rivers. Makes the finest ships to sail out of London.”

“Oh,” Silence said because she couldn’t think of what else to reply. A shipbuilder? How fanciful! And yet dressed the way he’d been for the last week, with his hair hidden sedately under the ubiquitous men’s white wig, Michael might indeed be a prosperous shipbuilder.

“Will that be all, ma’am?” Mrs. Bittner asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Silence smiled absently.

The door closed behind the housekeeper and Silence went to part the curtain and peer out the windows.

What other secrets had Michael hidden so well from her?

Silence only had time to notice that her room had a lovely view of a garden in back before the water arrived. It was pleasingly warm and Silence washed her hands and face before lying down on the soft bed.

But within minutes she was up again. She was simply too curious to lie abed when she could be exploring Michael’s secret house.

Outside her door was a hallway. She knew whose room was beside her own, and after opening a few doors she saw that the rest of the rooms in the hall were empty bedrooms.

Well, that was rather boring.

The stairs led both up and down. Up would almost certainly hold the nursery. She mounted the stairs and found the upper floor lined with windows facing south, the late afternoon sunlight pouring in. At the end of the bright hallway was a door.

She opened it and peeked inside.

Mary Darling sat in the middle of a large, beautiful nursery. The room was situated on a corner of the house and had windows on two sides with new bars to keep Mary safely in. There was a small bed and tiny dresser, and though there were only a few playthings, Mary’s new dolly had already been installed on top of the pillows on the bed. Anne was showing Mary a little wooden wagon with flocked horses to draw it, but on her entrance Mary looked up.

“Mamoo!” The baby got to her feet and toddled to Silence.

“And how are you, Miss Mary?” Silence smiled. The baby was freshly washed and wearing a new rose-colored dress that contrasted nicely with her glossy black hair. Silence looked at the nurse who had sprung to her feet. “Do you mind if I take Mary for a walk, Anne?”

“Oh, no ma’am.”

Silence picked up Mary and bore her away. “Shall we see what we can find downstairs?”

She descended the stairs, holding Mary. Below, they startled a little maid, dusting the pictures in the hall. They paused for a moment to examine the portrait of a funny spaniel dog before continuing. Further along the hall was an open door on the right. Silence tiptoed in and guessed from the masculine furnishings and the huge desk that this must be Michael’s study. She spent a few minutes peering at the sketches of ships and sails on the walls, and then Mary Darling indicated that she was bored.

“Very well,” Silence murmured. “Let’s see what else we can discover.”

Across from the study was a closed door. Silence gently pushed it open, expecting a little sitting room perhaps.

The room took up the entire south side of the house and was lined with French doors that let in the sun’s rays. A vast carpet covered the floor in muted shades of cream, apricot, and grass green, and scattered here and there were comfortable groupings of plush chairs and polished tables. The walls were lined with honey-colored wood, and everywhere there were books. Big books, small books, books on tables, books laying open as if abandoned by a recent reader. Some were old with crumbling spines, some looked so new they might never have been read, and all were illustrated.

“Down!” Mary said, and Silence absently set her on the floor.

This room was so elegant, and at the same time so comfortable. It was as if Michael had taken his library at the palace and made it something a person might actually want to spend time in.