Lord Barry's Dream House Read Free

high-ceilinged hall, ushered in by the longtime family retainer, the venerable Dalston.
    “Your father designed this house, I presume?” Lord Barry said to Juliana as he glanced about the beautifully proportioned room.
    “Indeed,” she replied with a gracious nod, wondering precisely how it was that Lord Barry had come to engage her father to design his house. She murmured a few words to Dalston regarding Lord Barry, then turned to catch sight of her uncle looking down from the first-floor landing.
    “Well, the ministering angel returns to soothe the family spirits.” Uncle George paused at the top of the stairs before strolling down to join Juliana and the unwanted guest.
    “This is Edmund, Lord Barry,” she announced to her uncle, hoping he might curb his more outrageous tendencies. To her guest she added, “My dear uncle, George Teynham, is the buttress of our family regardless of his frippery words.” Juliana patted her uncle on the arm, then said, “Perhaps you would show our guest to a room where he might refresh himself while I seek out Kitty to inform her of the news.” A f ter receiving an assenting nod, she curtsied prettily, then hurried in the direction where she thought Kitty most likely might be found.
    George looked after her disappearing figure, then motioned to Lord Barry. “Welcome to this house, Lord Barry. I fancy I know just where my sister would place you, for you must stay with us, you know. It would never do for you to stop in that country inn, clean though it may be. Come along with me, dear sir, and you shall fortify yourself before you meet this passel of womanhood.” They began their walk up the lovely stone staircase, and George continued his conversation. “I believe I knew your father a long time ago. Dashing fellow. You have the look of him. I seem to recall that Susan, my sister, admired him very much before she married Julian.”
    With scarcely a lift of his brows Lord Barry murmured suitable replies, joining Uncle George in a sauntering walk up the stairs, pausing every now and again to examine a fine bit of detailing. Although the house was not immense, it was a jewel of architectural design; anyone of taste would see that at once. Back on the ground floor Juliana whirled into the sitting room and then relaxed to see Kitty in the corner of the window seat, trying to read by the fading light and one lone can dl e. She crossed to touch her younger sister on the shoulder. When assured she had her attention, she spoke carefully, enunciating clearly.
    “We have a guest. Lord Barry is come to see how his house goes on. You had best join me in changing for dinner.”
    “Oh, dear. Must I join you? Strangers always fuss at me, and I hate that.” Kitty put down her book, frowning at her elder sister. But she obediently gathered her skirts, preparing to do as bid. People tended to heed Juliana.
    “You are not deaf; you merely require a clear voice. No mumblers will do for you, my dear,” Juliana joked. “Lord Barry has an excellent voice and speaks distinctly. Come along, do. I must pass the word along to Cook and to Mother. I do not know who will be the more flustered.”
    Then Kitty stared at Juliana and giggled. “Truly, you did I never allow him to see you looking like that! Why, you look a veritable fright. Oh, my.” She placed her book on the window seat, joining Juliana in the exodus to the upper regions with much giggling and shaking of her head.
    “I promise to make myself respectable before dinner,” Juliana said with a smile at her precious sister.
    “We would never wish Mama to have a fit of the vapors,” Kitty replied with a twinkle in her pretty gray eyes.
    In his room, a most elegant and tastefully furnished abode, Edmund strolled to the window, gazing off into the fading light in the direction of his new home. Every sense he had told him that something was distinctly havey-cavey with the construction. Could Sir Phineas be correct? Would the daughter of an