The earl looked alarmed. “She’s forgetful?”

“Occasionally, but so is anyone nearing seventy. This is a new place and we’ve only just arrived. I fear I might not recall where I was.”

“Fair enough.” He gestured to the door. “Shall we?”

The tea had stained the folds of his cravat, and parts of his maroon waistcoat were darker than the rest because the fabric was wet. She would feel bad if his clothing were ruined, but then he could likely afford to replace both items without a second thought.

He led her from the sitting room back into the foyer. A liveried footman stood near the door like a statue. They turned to the right, and there was an actual statue in the corner, a life-sized rendering of a muscular young man in a brimmed hat, winged sandals, and a cloth draped in an artful fashion covering his most intimate parts.

“Is that Hermes?” she asked.

“You know your Greek gods.” He sounded impressed. “My father liked Greek mythology in his youth. Or so my mother said.”

He led her into a large hall in which a wide staircase climbed up the right side. Portraits lined the wall ascending to the first floor.

“I seem to recall that about him when he visited my father. They discussed Greek philosophers too.” She looked at the paintings as they went up. “Are these your relatives?”

“Yes.” He pointed to the one at the top. “That’s my grandmother. She lives at the dowager house at Deane Hall. She rarely comes to London anymore.”

The likeness was of a woman past the blush of youth but not yet in middle age. Her gray-blue eyes were very similar to that of her grandson, including a certain sense of exuberance, as if she were ready to meet whatever came her way. “She looks lively.”

“She has many opinions and will share them whether you want to hear them or not.” At the top of the stairs, he continued onto the next flight. “Your room is up one more.”

The staircase up to the second floor was not quite as grand, and the paintings were of landscapes. There was also one of a bowl of fruit.

“Just to the left here.” He led her to a doorway and stepped into a small, well-appointed sitting room decorated in pale pink and green. Once inside, he gestured to the right. “Your chamber is through there. And here is Miss Lancaster.”

The woman who was to be Fiona’s companion walked into the sitting room from a door on the wall opposite the one to Fiona’s chamber. Miss Lancaster was taller than average with dark blonde hair and a narrow face. Her pale, gray-green eyes were wide, however, and fringed with long, dark lashes. There was a steel to her, perhaps in the way she stood or the manner in which she held her head with an air of resolve.

Fiona moved toward her with a warm smile, wanting to start their relationship off well, even if she did feel a bit like the woman was edging Mrs. Tucket out. “Good afternoon, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”