The horses drawing the carriage that Darcia was sitting in began to move more slowly up a steep incline.
Half way up there was a gap in the trees that bordered the rough drive and she had her first sight of the house that she was looking for.
She had certainly, because it was being built by the Earl, expected it to be impressive, but not in the least to resemble the building that she saw in front of her.
She had imagined, because he was tall and had the look of a Georgian buck about him like the portraits that adorned the walls at Rowley Park, that his taste would be Georgian.
She had pictured a Palladian house with its wings attached to a lofty centre building, a porticoed front and, doubtless when it was all finished, statues and urns on the roof, which would be silhouetted against t
