THERE was a sudden buzz of activity in the cool, lofty entrance hall as anyone who had the slightest excuse made their way to the front door. The lower regions of the house had been a hive of activity ever since they had received the message that Sir Percy was on his way - and that he would be bringing his wife with him.
Now their carriage had been sighted in the grounds and word had spread among the servants like wildfire. The flimsiest of pretexts would do to ensure a place on the front steps when they arrived. Everyone wanted to get the first glimpse of the exotic French actress Sir Percy had married.
Frank, Sir Percy's valet, sighed. He had been besieged with questions ever since he had arrived a few hours ahead of Sir Percy and Lady Blakeney. It wasn't his place - or his style - to fuel the backstairs gossip about his employers, but that hadn't stopped the flow of chit-chat as he went from room to room checking all the last minute details.
And although he could quell a pert housemaid or the younger footmen with no more than a glance, it was harder to prevent a quizzing from those you used to polish the family silverware with. But Jack hadn't been quite so obvious as Mrs Roberts, he thought reflectively. He'd forgotten just how inquisitive that woman could be.
Well, on this visit there would be time to reminisce about old times anyway. Not that Sir Percy had confided all his plans to his valet, but Frank knew him well enough after all these years to know he wouldn't be bringing his pretty, young wife to the family home for the first time if he wasn't planning to stay for at least a week.
Frank looked around at the majesty of the great entrance hall. With its huge vaulted ceiling and beautifully painted cornices it was rightly held to be one of the architectural gems of the country. He had once been so familiar with every stone, every carving in this place - but he had not been back for aught saving a few fleeting business trips with Sir Percy for many a long year.
As housekeeper Mrs Roberts had not had such a test of her mettle for some time, and she was looking forward to the challenge. She looked back with fondness on the days when Sir Algernon had brought his new bride to Welbourne. What a happy couple they had been; she stifled a sentimental sigh as she reminisced. Perhaps the bustle and excitement of those times was about to return.
She gave a final twitch to her dress and rapidly scanned the staff to ensure that there was not a hair out of place, while she continued to wonder what had brought Sir Percy here now with his wife in tow. Her face did not betray her thoughts for an instant: it was one thing to attempt to get a few facts from Frank who saw Sir Percy every day, but she would never allow her dignity to lapse so that the junior staff were witness to her curiosity.
Not that Frank had been very forthcoming she mused reflectively - but then he never had been much of a talker, even in his younger days.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the thud of hoofbeats and the crunch of carriage-wheels on the driveway; one final check of the staff reassured her they would not disgrace her, as she turned to greet Sir Percy and Lady Blakeney.
Marguerite's nerves returned as the carriage drew to a halt at the foot of an impressive flight of steps; if the house had seemed benign from a distance, close up it appeared to loom over her, making her feel small and insignificant.
It was a spectacular structure; the main part of the building had two rows of large windows, finished with pilasters at either end. Another storey then rose from the centre of the main house, rather like the top tier of a wedding cake, complete with turrets on all four corners. A profusion of scrollwork, carvings and parapets gave it the look of a colossal piece of confectionary.
Wondering what whim had created such a unique house, Marguerite found herself being handed out of the carriage by her husband and confronted by an array of household staff. She gracefully acknowledged their greeting and allowed Percy to led her up the steps and into the vast entrance hall, hoping that with him by her side the house would take on a more congenial atmosphere.
The servants began to disperse to all corners of the Hall as Mrs Roberts followed Sir Percy and Lady Blakeney inside. She bobbed a respectful curtsey to Sir Percy and said:
"Mr Jenkins has already arrived, sir. He's waiting in the study."
"Thank you, Mrs Roberts"
Marguerite felt abandoned as he kissed her hand and performed an elaborate, leave-taking bow, before disappearing through one of the other archways.
Mrs Roberts began to wonder whether Sir Percy's French wife spoke any English: she was stunningly beautiful, with her dramatic colouring of auburn hair and pale skin, but she seemed stiff, silent and distant. She did not seem to have any of the natural charm which had made Sir Percy's mother such a favourite here.
"My lady...?" she ventured, "Could I show you to your room?"
Marguerite was so tired. She was delighted that the formalities of the day were finally over and she and Percy would be able to sink back into their own blissful idyll without interruption. She reclined on the large, comfortable sofa she occupied and dreamily watched her husband.
She had barely seen him since their arrival earlier that day. He had to deal with business and had been closeted with the estate manager and bailiff for most of the day. The cares of the estate seemed to have taken their toll on him and he was looking weary: the first time she had ever seen him show signs of real fatigue; aside from that fateful night outside Calais.
His attitude reflected the way she felt. After having a little time to refresh herself from the journey, she had been conducted on a lengthy tour of the house by the formidable Mrs Roberts. She had rather forcibly put Marguerite in mind of one of the nuns at the convent. Her tall figure, encased in a severe black dress, had glided around the corridors with a decided air of proprietorship.
All this was new to her; the routines and patterns of a country house, and she was looking forward to at last spending some time with Percy, instead of feigning interest in the endless jars in the still room.
She had not wanted to see the house alone, with a stranger. She had hoped that Percy would be able to take her through the rooms and corridors and introduce her to the beautiful old house.
Instead she had been taken on the formal tour by the housekeeper. But despite her unyielding appearance and abrupt manner, Marguerite had glimpsed a genuine love for Welbourne beneath Mrs Roberts' exacting exterior and found herself warming to her. She had probably ruled the place with a rod of iron for years and was worried that a new mistress would upset all her carefully constructed arrangements.
Marguerite, still flushed with her new-found love, was extremely sensitive to the moods of others. Having spent much of the afternoon with Mrs Roberts she sensed that the housekeeper was more than just a domestic tyrant ensuring the house was kept in order - she seemed to really care for those in her charge, as well as the Hall itself. She would have plenty of time to find out more about the housekeeper as they were due to stay for several days.
In the library she continued to study Percy. They had met at dinner time but the servants had been in and out all the time, leaving no time for private conversation. They had kept to formal, polite subjects until they could be alone.
Now it was just the two of them and still he said nothing. His attention was instead somewhere far away as he stood with one arm leaning on the mantel-shelf, one booted foot resting on the surround. Almost as though he could feel her gaze his focus suddenly came back into the room and he turned to smile at her.
"What do you think of the house, m'dear?" he said.
"Percy, don't. Don't shut me out now. Are you thinking about going to France again?" she queried. On seeing that distant look in his eyes her thoughts had automatically turned to his alter-ego, the Scarlet Pimpernel.
"Odds fish, m'dear, it is your homeland. Do you never wish to return?"
"That is not what I meant at all - are you planning another trip with the League? Please, Percy, tell me."
"My dearest," he said, losing his lighthearted tone and moving from the fireside to sit near her on the sofa. "You would be the first person I would tell if I had any such plans. I cannot keep a secret from you now."
His eyes took in the anxiety on her face and gently his hand caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, satisfied that he was safe - for now.