“No, miss. Mr. Duilio said to put you in here.”
“Thank you, then, Cardenas,” Oriana said, attempting to settle properly into her role in the household. If she became too familiar, it would be difficult to retreat later, and she might end up facing another footman who thought he could take advantage of her. Better to start off on the right foot. “Also, if it’s not too much trouble, could one of the maids bring up a tray? I didn’t have a chance for luncheon.”
The butler inclined his head. “Of course, Miss Paredes. Do you prefer tea or coffee?”
“Coffee,” she told him. “With cream.”
He bowed and left Oriana there, staring at the opulence around her. She licked her lips nervously. She didn’t understand the reasoning behind this elegant room and the courteous treatment she was receiving. Ensconcing her in this bedroom increased the likelihood that Mr. Ferreira intended a seduction. She couldn’t imagine any other reason he might place her in what must be a family room. But she wasn’t attractive enough to inspire some grand passion in a man she barely knew.
Worry made her empty stomach roil. Surely this can’t be his bedroom. No, the butler would not have treated her with anything approaching respect if his master’s designs had been so blatant. Even so, the room smelled masculine, with a hint of bay rum in the air. It wasn’t a room normally used by a lady.
Shaking herself, Oriana gathered her wits. She would need to find the toilet stand shortly, so she’d better start exploring. She set her bag and hat on the settee and went to investigate the entry nearer to the dressing area. It opened onto a small room that smelled still and unused.
The dressing room held a large armoire and a chest of drawers in a dark wood that matched the bed. When she opened the armoire, she found a quantity of clothing, clearly a man’s. For a fleeting second her worry that this was Mr. Ferreira’s bedroom returned, but the clothing hadn’t been touched recently. This was someone else’s room—abandoned.
Oriana backed out of the dressing room and cast a quick glance at that second door. It didn’t lead to the dressing area after all, so it must adjoin some other room, possibly Lady Ferreira’s. At least she hoped so. Bracing herself, she went and tried the handle. The door opened outward, revealing a stunning vista of white porcelain and polished brass.
She laid one hand over her gaping mouth. It was a bathing room. A private bathing room.
A skylight overhead illuminated the largest tub Oriana had ever seen, easily large enough for her to lie down in—almost six feet long. It had to have been custom made for this house. The brass fittings, for hot and cold running water, gleamed as if they’d been polished that afternoon. A soft rug in pale beige covered the tile floor, and thick ivory towels waited in a set of shelves against the far wall, next to another door that must conceal a water closet.
Amazed, Oriana leaned down and ran her fingertips along the cool lip of the tub. A collection of brass boxes and delicate bottles clustered on one side of the vanity caught her eye. She suspected the fragrances would be masculine, property of the room’s previous occupant. Looking about her at this rare creation, she felt an ache that was almost physical. Her skin sorely needed a long bath after a week without in the boarding house, and she couldn’t imagine a better place for it. This room was beyond magnificent. It was perfect.
A sharp rapping at the bedroom door penetrated her reverie. Oriana forced herself to leave the bathing area and found a pretty young maid entering the room, a coffee tray in her hands. Oriana went to take the tray from her, an automatic response.
“Oh no, miss. I’ll just put it on the stand here.” The maid set the tray next to the leather settee, ran brisk fingers over her tidy apron, and curtsied. “I’m Teresa, Miss Paredes. I’ll be taking care of your rooms, and anything else you need.”
“There must be a mistake,” Oriana said. “These rooms are too grand for a companion.”
The girl smiled and shook her head. “No, miss. Mr. Ferreira said it would be easiest to keep you in this end of the house rather than opening up something at the end of the hall. And you’re next to the lady here. Makes it easier for us, you know.”
That sounded more like an excuse than a reason. “Who usually has this room?”
“It was Mr. Alessio’s room,” Teresa said, casting a glance at Oriana’s bag, where it still rested on the settee. “Before he passed, I mean.”
Ah, the mourning. “When was that?”
“Year and a half ago, miss, about. I didn’t work here then. I started after the father died.”
Oriana puzzled at those statements and decided the girl was definitely talking about two different people. Alessio wasn’t the father, then. Perhaps a brother. “The father?”
The girl chewed her lower lip. “Mr. Ferreira, I meant. He died not long after his son. About a year ago, I think.”
Lady Ferreira had lost a husband and a son within the last year and a half. How awful. Oriana decided to try a different tack with her questions. “Do you like working here, Teresa?”
“Oh yes, miss. Mr. Ferreira is a good master. Everyone likes him, even Miss Felis, who’s known him since he was born.”
Oriana didn’t think this girl was faking her enthusiasm; Teresa didn’t seem the sort who could lie well. She felt her worries about the man’s intentions fading. “That’s good to know.”
“Do you need anything else, miss? I could press something if you like.”
Oriana had always had to press her own garments at the Amaral household. It seemed strange to have a servant do such a chore for her. But since ironing was terribly uncomfortable for her hands, she opened her bag and located her black serge skirt, the blue vest, and her remaining shirtwaist. She surrendered them to the maid. “I thought I would take a bath, so there’s no need to hurry.”
The girl grinned. “Very well, miss. I’ll just leave these on the hooks in the dressing room. Mr. Cardenas said I should show you around the house later this evening, after the supper service. Mrs. Cardoza usually does that, but she’s got her hands full with dinner tonight since two of the girls are visiting family out in Madalena. Mr. Cardenas hoped you wouldn’t mind.”
It would probably be easier to get information out of this open-faced girl than out of a housekeeper anyway, so Oriana didn’t argue what some others might consider a slight to her consequence. Instead she sent the girl on her way.
She stripped off her silk mitts and jacket and left them lying over the curled arm of the settee. Determined not to be wasteful, she forced herself to sit down and eat a couple of the tasty sandwiches the cook had provided for her, enough to take away the edge of her hunger. And then deciding that everything left on the tray would be acceptable cold, she returned to the bathing room to consider that lovely oversized tub.
CHAPTER 10
Humming with the sound of moving water, the pipes on the second floor told Duilio his mother’s new companion had drawn a bath, which served his purposes well. He had questions that needed answering, and catching her in her bath would give him the leverage he needed. She wouldn’t be able to deny who she was.
It might be improper, but it was expedient. He could apologize later.
But he had to smooth his butler’s injured consequence first. “This has nothing to do with you, Cardenas. I merely suspect she would prefer to hold both copies.”
Cardenas wasn’t happy about surrendering one of his precious keys. “And if I should need to get in there to inspect the maids’ work, sir?”
“It’s only for a short time, Cardenas,” Duilio said soothingly. “I’ll give it two weeks. If she’s comfortable with the arrangement by then, I’ll ask her to return the key to you.”