Bride Enchanted by Edith Layton Page A

turned in the drive. His estate was nothing like any other stately home she’d ever seen. The front of grand estates she’d seen were bare of trees and their drives were barren twists of roadway made of shells or sand.
    Aubrey’s home was huge, surrounded by ancient trees, and the road to it was more like a drive through a meadow. The house itself was made of grey stone, and huge. But it didn’t tower over the scene. In fact, it seemed longer than high; shaped vaguely like an inverted U, with the sides going off behind the front. It glittered, but only because of the last of the sunlight echoing off all the windows. She could see a huge glass dome in the center of the house. Behind and to the sides were trees, a wood full of them. A soft mist had begun floating up from the forest in the last light, making the scene look magical.
    The carriage drove to the front of the house, and stopped. An assemblage of servants stood waiting there. Aubrey smiled, and sat up.
    â€œWelcome, my lady,” he said, “to our home.”
    Before she could answer, he bent, scooped her up in his arms, and carried her out of the carriage. He waited a moment with her held high in his arms, looking at the assembly in front of the house. “My bride,” he announced with pride. “Your lady.”
    Eve was charmed. The estate looked to be as unique, beautiful, and different as was her new husband. “I’ll take you on a brief tour,” he said after he’d introduced her to his servants. “We have things here that were accumulated over the centuries. It will take almost that for you to see it all, but there are some things I thought you’d like to see now.”
    She thought that some of his servants might also have been relics collected by his ancestors, and smiled to herself. But they all seemed happy to see her, and as polite as she could wish. So she took his arm, and followed him through the house.
    What first struck her eye was the huge dome over the entry she’d set foot into. It covered the high ceiling the way murals and frescoes did in other great houses. But instead of painted clouds, or lofty pagan gods or dancing cherubs, she saw the sky itself. She saw the darker clouds of the coming night high above her, a slice of a new moon, and the first far off glints of early stars pecking holes in the purpling sky.
    â€œIn the daytime, it’s even more impressive,” Aubrey said, watching her face as she looked upward. “You’d think it would get hot under the dome during the summer. It might in any other clime. But this is England, and so that’s rare. Itwouldn’t matter if it blazed. My people love the light of sun or moon.”
    â€œIt is magnificent,” she said. “I seldom see sky so clearly even when I’m out of doors. Is it the height, or the curve of the glass? It must be terrifying in a storm.”
    â€œTerrifying? Maybe, at first. Later, you’ll find that lightning decorates the hall for us. You’ll become used to it. Now let’s go on, there’s too much to see in an hour, or a day. But I want to show you some of your home before you grow too weary.”
    The downstairs rooms connected each to each and led in a path through the house. Aubrey took Eve through rooms where Elizabethan chests stood next to twelfth-century ones, where ancient hand-hewn high-back chairs surrounded intricately carved inlaid wooden tables. There were spindly Chinese consoles of modern design, and massive wooden chairs that looked as though they’d be perfect in a hall of ancient kings. The walls held pennants from bygone wars and murals of modern design, all that lacked was martial body armor. Yet somehow, some way, it all fit together. It was a history of England, all ajumble, and all equally prized.
    She gaped. “Your ancestors were like magpies,” she finally breathed. “But magpies with good taste.”
    He bowed. “Thank