Stranger in My Arms(27)

For what he wanted, this was a small price to pay.

Chapter 8

ACCORDING TO HUNTER’S instructions, Lara engaged the services of a designer, Mr. Smith, to change the interiors of Hawksworth Hall.

Accompanied by the estate manager, Mr. Young, Lara showed Smith on a tour of the house.

“As you can see, Mr. Smith,” she said with laughing dismay, “my claim that this will be the greatest challenge of your career is not far off the mark.”

Smith, a heavyset gentleman with a long mane of gleaming silver-white hair, grunted noncommittally and scribbled in a small notebook with gilt-edged pages. Although his real name was Mr. Hugh Smith, he was known as “Possibility” Smith, having earned the nickname from his famous habit of saying, “This place has distinct possibilities.” So far Lara had waited in vain for the magic phrase to appear.

She had taken him on a survey of the Egyptian dining room with its sarcophagus-shaped cabinets, the baroque entrance hall, the Chinese parlors filled with faux carved bamboo, and the Moroccan ballroom lined with marble blackamoors dressed in pink togas. With each new room he beheld, Possibility Smith’s countenance became darker and his silence deepened.

“Is it worth savihg, do you think?” Lara asked in a lame attempt at humor, “or shall we just burn the place to the ground and start over?”

The silver-maned head turned toward her. “For sheer bad taste, it is unrivaled by any residence I’ve ever had the misfortune of viewing.”

Mr. Young interceded tactfully. “Let me assure you, sir, that Lady Hawksworth possesses exquisite taste, and had no hand in this decor.”

“Let us hope not,” Smith muttered, and sighed. “I must have another look at that ballroom. Then we’ll visit the next floor.” He wandered away, shaking his head in regal disapproval.

Lara put a hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh as she imagined his expression when he crossed the threshold of her multi-mirrored bedroom.

Oh, she should have had the servants remove the one on the ceiling before he saw it!

Regarding her pinkening face, Mr. Young gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Lord and Lady Arthur certainly left their mark, didn’t they?”

Lara nodded, her eyes twinkling. “I’m afraid we can’t afford the expense of changing everything…

but how is anyone to live in such a horror?”

“I shouldn’t worry about the expense for long,” Mr. Young said comfortingly. “The earl discussed some of his plans with me, and I was quite impressed. With some reorganization of his properties, a much-needed loan, and a few sound investments, I believe the estate will be more prosperous than ever.” Lara’s amusement faded, and she stared at him curiously. “Do you find the earl much as he was before, then?”

“Yes . . and no. In my humble opinion he’s improved. It seems to me that Hawksworth has a greater sense of responsibility and financial acuity than he once did. He was never much interested in his business affairs, you know. At least, not as much as he was in fox-hunting and grouse-shooting-” “I know,” Lara said, rolling her eyes. “But what is to account for his altered character? And do you think the change is permanent?”

“I believe it is only natural, after what he has been through,” Mr. Young continued matter-of-factly. “To be reminded so forcibly of his mortality-to see what has become of his family and property in his absence, it is actually a great gift. Yes, I believe the change is permanent The earl now realizes how much he is needed by all of us.”

Rather than argue that she didn’t need Hunter’s presence in her life, Lara nodded shortly. “Mr. Young … are there any questions in your mind as to his identity?”

“No, not in the least” He seemed startled by the idea. “Don’t tell me that you doubt him?”

Before she could reply, Possibility Smith rejoined them in the large hall. “Well,” he said with a huge sigh, “let’s get on with the rest of it.”

“Mr. Smith,” Lara commented wryly, “you seem rather aghast.”

“I was aghast at least an hour ago. Now I’m horrified.” He crooked his arm for her to take. “Shall we proceed?”

Mr. Smith and two assistants remained at the house for the rest of the week, sketching, conferring, littering the floors with books and fabric swatches. In the midst of the tumult, Lara found time to visit her friends at Market Hill, and more important, to go to the orphanage.

Every problem and worry receded to the back of her mind as she saw a botany class of six children sketching plants in the garden under the supervision of a teacher, Miss Chapman. Lara felt a smile spread over her face as she walked toward them, heedless of the grass and mud that stained the hem of her gray skirt.

The children came to her at once, abandoning pencils and sketchbooks and eagerly calling her name.

Laughing, Lara sank to her haunches and embraced them. “Tom, Meggie, Maisie, Paddy, Rob…” She paused and ruffled the last one’s hair.

“And you, Charlie… have you been behaving well?”

“I done awright.” He ducked his head with a sly grin.

“He’s tried very hard, Lady Hawksworth,” the teacher said. “Not quite an angel, but close enough.”

Lara smiled and hugged Charlie despite his squirming protest. After inspecting the drawings in progress, she drew aside to confer with Miss Chapman. The teacher, a small, light-haired woman close to her own age, regarded her with friendly blue eyes.