Victoria was terribly self-conscious when they finally arrived at Robert's home. It wasn't that it was imposingly grand; with his father still living, Robert had adopted one of the family's smaller holdings. Still, his stately town house was impeccably elegant, and Victoria had a feeling that living in the family quarters of such a residence would be much different than a governess's topfloor cubbyhole.
She was also afraid that all the servants would immediately recognize her as a sham. A vicar's daughter—a governess!—They wouldn't like to receive orders from her. It was imperative that she start out on the right foot with Robert's staff—a bad first impression could take years to correct. She just wished she knew which of her feet was the right one.
Robert seemed to understand her dilemma. As they rode in the carriage from Lord Pallister's home to his, he patted her on the hand and said, “Now you shall be a countess when you are introduced to your new home. It shall be much better that way.”
Victoria agreed, but that didn't stop her hands from shaking as they walked up the front steps. She tried to keep them still, but she wasn't successful, and her wedding band suddenly felt very heavy on her finger.
Robert paused before opening the door. “You're trembling,” he said, taking her gloved hand in his.
“I'm nervous,” she admitted.
“Why?”
“I feel as if I'm at a masquerade.”
“And your costume would be…” he prompted.
Victoria let out a nervous laugh. “A countess.”
He smiled. “It's not a costume, Victoria. You are a countess. My countess.”
“I don't feel like one.”
“You'll get used to it”。
“That is easy for you to say. You were born to this sort of thing. I haven't the slightest idea how to go about it.”
“Didn't you spend seven years as a governess? Surely you must have observed a thing or two from Lady—No, I take that back,” he said, frowning. “Contrive not to emulate Lady Hollingwood. Just be yourself. There is no rule that a countess must be haughty and stern.”
“Very well,” she said doubtfully.
Robert reached for the doorknob, but the door was pulled open before he touched it. A butler swept into a deep bow, murmuring, “My lord.”
“I think he watches out the window for me,” Robert whispered into Victoria's ear. “I have never once managed to grasp the doorknob.”
Victoria let out a little giggle despite herself. Robert was trying so hard to set her at ease. She decided then and there that she would not disappoint him. She might be terrified, but she was going to be a perfect countess if it killed her.
“Yerbury,” Robert said, handing the man his hat, “may I present my new wife, the Countess of Macclesfield.”
If Yerbury was surprised it certainly did not show on his face, which Victoria was sure was made of granite. “My deepest congratulations,” he said, then turned to Victoria and added, “My lady, it will be my pleasure to serve you.”
Victoria almost giggled again at that. The thought of someone serving her was so utterly foreign. But, determined to act properly, she managed to stifle her laugh into a friendly smile and said, “Thank you, Yerbury. I'm delighted to become a part of your household.”
Yerbury's pale eyes glowed just a touch warmer when she said “Your household.” Then the unthinkable occurred. Yerbury sneezed. “Oh!” he exclaimed, looking as if he wanted to melt into the ground. “My lady, I am so dreadfully sorry.”
“Don't be silly, Yerbury,” Victoria said. “It is only a sneeze.”
He sneezed again, just as he was saying, “A good butler never sneezes.” Then he let out four more sneezes in rapid succession.
Victoria had never seen a man look more distressed. With a quick glance at Robert, she went forward and laced her arm through the butler's. “Come now, Yerbury,” she said warmly, before he had a chance to faint at such intimate contact with the new countess. “Why don't you show me to the kitchens? I know of an excellent remedy. We shall have you cured in no time.”
And then Yerbury, his face betraying more emotion than he'd let show in forty years, led her to the back of the house, thanking her profusely all the while.
Robert only smiled as he was abandoned in the front hall. It had taken less than two minutes for Victoria to charm Yerbury. He predicted she would have the rest of the household eating from her hand by nightfall.
A few days passed, and Victoria slowly grew comfortable with her new position. She didn't think she would ever be able to order servants around like most of the nobility; she had spent far too long in their ranks not to realize that they were all people, too, with hopes and dreams much like her own. And although the servants were never told of Victoria's background, they seemed to sense that she had a special affinity for them. Victoria and Robert were breakfasting one day when a particularly devoted maid insisted that she reheat her mistress's morning chocolate because it wasn't quite warm enough. As the maid scurried off with the pot, Robert remarked, “I do think they would give their lives for you, Torie.”