by Lara Temple
He appeared to gather himself as he followed her tumbled speech. ‘What do you mean you shan’t be returning to Uxmore?’
‘Just that. I have been saving my annuity and all my settlement and I think I have enough to lease some place small in town and not worry for at least a year or so and by then I shall no doubt find employment so I do not eat into my settlement. I will try seeking employment at one of the schools for young women. I have all the skills. It cannot be too hard.’
He came towards her.
‘Sit down.’
She glanced around and sat on the nearest chair. It was hard and slightly warped and she wished she had chosen a more comfortable seat on which to receive her dismissal.
He pulled over a chair and sat as well, crossing his arms over his chest.
‘I have another suggestion. Rather, a choice. After our...discussion last night I considered your words and I wish to amend our arrangement. I will be very busy for the foreseeable future. Besides the usual estate business, we are holding a ball on Summer’s Solstice after which we will finalise an agreement with the McCrieffs. I presume once that occurs the wedding will take place promptly. And before you toss an accusation of vanity at me, I should say that this does not reflect in the least on my personal qualities, but on the Lochmore title and wealth and the unsettled nature of Scottish clan politics.’
‘I was not...’
‘You were thinking it and you said as much to me during the trip here.’
‘I did not...’
‘Did, too, as Jamie might say. But that is hardly the point. The point is that you have a point—Jamie is isolated here. Hopefully once I am married there will be siblings and eventually he can attend a school nearby. But while this is all in the making, he needs, as Lady Theale stated in her usual bludgeoning way, a companion. If there is one thing you have proven this week, Mrs Langdale, it is that you can appeal to children. Therefore I would be grateful if you would stay until the betrothal. I will of course compensate you. I doubt Lady Theale has been as generous with the Uxmore funds as she has been with your time, but should you remain here you will accept my terms.’
‘I could not...’
‘My terms, Mrs Langdale. Or not at all.’
Her relief held her silent and worried her. She should finally be brave and strike out on her own, not fall into another position of cushy servitude, no matter how appealing her charge.
‘Well, Mrs Langdale?’ he prompted. ‘This is your cue to say “I will”, or, more consistently with your latest responses, “I will not...”’
In the silence the wind whistled in the casement and the clouds cast shifting shadows on the stone floor. The great fireplace was crackling and she was not cold, but she shivered a little. Perhaps it was merely cowardice now that she was determined to strike out on her own, but it would not be so very terrible to stay for a month, would it? She could not deny that she felt drawn to Jamie far more than she had to any of Celia’s children. Both Lochmore men needed her in their own way and, even if she was only a temporary bridge, the thought of turning her back on Lochmore’s offer felt...wrong.
‘I will.’
He shook his head, but it was not a negation. Then he looked around the room, as if surprised to find them there.
‘The castle is impossible to heat. I will have Mrs Merry find you a decent cloak for when you go outside. There are a few rules. Do not go to the north bay under any circumstances—the tide and currents there are brutal. Jamie knows never to go there without either myself or Angus. However, you may go to the bay to the south of the castle which is protected and quite calm. The shortest route is through the Sea Gate which is reached through a tunnel from the great staircase, but you mustn’t enter any of the other tunnels or the cellars. They are dank and unwholesome and no longer in use—the kitchens and storerooms are in the keep and the servants are on the top floor. Jamie knows he is never to venture there. Is that absolutely clear?’
She nodded vigorously.
‘Good. We rarely dine formally here as I often return late. So you will most often dine with Jamie or in your parlour. Occasionally, though hopefully rarely, we may be required to dine with my aunt, Lady Morag. Luckily she is highly unsociable and mostly remains in the north tower with her choice of comforts. I suggest you not invade her privacy—she is a...cantankerous person. Other than that you are to remember that you are an Uxmore and my guest and I have made that clear to Mrs Merry and the servants. I won’t have you slinking around here like a governess or a drudge. Understood?’
Some of her relief was beginning to evaporate at his imperiousness, but she nodded again, a little less vigorously.
‘Good. Now go find Jamie and have him show you the castle and the grounds. I have work to do.’
He stood, casting a look of such blatant loathing at the ledgers she almost laughed.
‘If you hate it so, why not have your steward see to the numbers? Is he not trustworthy?’
‘Very, but he is getting on and though he doesn’t admit it his eyesight is failing. I must find someone to replace him eventually, poor fellow. Meanwhile I do my best to review his tallies. We are sadly behind because of my trip south.’
‘I can help with that, if you wish. I saw to the housekeeping accounts at Uxmore.’
‘What else did you do at Uxmore? Did you tend to their gardens as well? Air the sheets?’
Strangely she wasn’t offended. Perhaps because he sounded offended.
‘I did not mind it, truly. It was my quiet time. I had the library to myself then.’
He hesitated, clearly tempted, but she clasped her hands and carefully refrained from pressing. Finally he gave another of his peculiarly Latin shrugs.
‘Perhaps later. But only if you prove you can actually tally and were not secretly siphoning off the Uxmore funds to the local butcher and baker and candlestick maker.’
‘If I was, you will never know, I was very discreet.’
‘Mrs Langdale...’
She waited for another list of prohibitions, but after a moment of hesitation he continued.
‘I have not been very gracious. Thank you for staying. Jamie will be very happy. If there is anything you need to make your time here more...agreeable, please don’t hesitate to speak.’ He grimaced, as if aware of how stilted he sounded, and she did her best not to smile.
‘Thank you, Your Grace. That is very kind.’
‘Yes. Well. Where are you headed now?’
‘Jamie wants to take me treasure hunting in the bay. With luck I will meet his mermaids.’
He smiled just as the sun cleaved through the clouds outside the window and the combination made her look down.
‘You are being honoured indeed. I have yet to be introduced to them.’
‘Jamie did not sound very hopeful. He says I might be lucky because I know Minerva, but usually mermaids think adults are too boring.’
He laughed and came to open the door for her. ‘I tend to agree with them. I hope your connections with the magical Minerva serve you well. I will tell Angus to keep well back when he accompanies you so he doesn’t ruin your chances with the dwellers of the deep.’
‘Surely Angus need not be bothered to accompany us?’ she asked as she stepped into the corridor.
‘I do not want you going by the Sea Gate tunnel with only Jamie as guide on your first descent to the bay. The tunnel is... I do not want you wandering around and becoming lost.’
The shift from laughter to tension was so sudden it jarred her, but she did not wish to upset him again so she nodded.
‘If you do not think Angus will mind.’
‘I do not think he will mind in the least, Mrs Langdale.’ This time his smile was sardonic and before she could respond he disappeared back into the study.
Chapter Ten
First impressions were often deceptive, Jo thought
as she paused halfway along the beach and glanced back at the castle. Yesterday they arrived in near darkness, though it was only late afternoon, with clouds hanging low and submerging everything in sheets of unrelenting rain. Faraway lightning had sketched out the contours of the castle, marking towers and the remnants of walls. Through the watery grey the castle had appeared a gloomy monstrosity clawing at the sky.
In sunlight the castle was another beast entirely. It sat atop a promontory whose cliffs fell into the water like an anthracite skirt. It was still imposing and not terribly inviting, but as the sun gleamed off the deep grey stone of the castle and the remains of the walls around it, at least it no longer looked like the lair of an ogre.
From the south she could not see the tower where the Duke said his aunt lived. She wondered if the woman was truly as unpleasant as he warned. She tried to remember what Bella had said about her, but the previous Duke had still been alive then and most of Bella’s commentary had been a barrage of complaints about her living conditions, her renovation of the castle, her plans to ensure they spent more time in London and her thinly veiled jealousy about how much time Benneit spent with the baby rather than her.
If Jo was doubtful about the castle, she had no qualms about the beach—it was beautiful. With the skies scrubbed clean of clouds and the scent of the sea and the soft sand beneath her boots, the world was a marvellous place. The bay was sheltered by a finger of the cliffs that extended into the water and further to the south by a tumble of rocks with a large boulder atop it that looked like a pillow just waiting for a large cat to curl on and lap up the sun’s warmth. Beyond the finger of rocks, the waves were lashing at the cliffs, heavy with foam, but inside the bay they merely surged and hissed in retreat, more teasing than threatening.
Jamie soon abandoned his shoes on a rock and began inculcating Jo into the secret of finding treasures as he rooted about a clump of slimy brownish growth. The best finds, he informed her, were often tangled in gatherings of kelp the sea tossed up, especially after a storm. They found a lovely shell with a pearly inside, and a curved stick that looked like a pig’s tail and which Jamie decided once belonged to a druid.
When Jamie grew hungry they gathered his treasures and turned towards the castle, Jamie running ahead in his stockings while Angus picked up his shoes and addressed Jo with a sigh and a smile.
‘You needn’t hurry after him, Mrs Langdale. He’ll be gone in a cloud of dust before you reach the steps. I’ll see Nurse Moody takes him in hand before nuncheon. Take your time and when you’re ready to come in, take the stairs at the end of the corridor and you will find yourself by the great staircase and from there up two flights to the nursery. You’ll be all right, lass?’
Jo nodded and smiled, happy to have a few moments to herself. She contemplated the tumble of rocks. Perhaps one day she would take a book up there. After all, she had a month. And then...
There was no point in thinking of that now.
She followed the edge of the sea where the waves licked the sand into firmness, stopping to pick up a shell sure to appeal to Jamie. Outside it was gnarled and a rather dull dun colour scored with what looked like the passage of worms in the sand, but inside it was perfection—a creamy pink sheen that would defy the finest artist. She brushed her finger along the sweep of its curve—as soft as silk, it almost felt alive. If she were a princess from one of the exotic dream lands Jamie was convinced these treasures arrived from she would have a dress of just this colour.
And she would be beautiful and wealthy and would depend upon no one but herself.
Strangely, her usual daydream felt rather grey and she trudged up the stone steps and through the Sea Gate and into the tunnel leading to the great stairs. It took her a while to realise she was lost. She finally stopped walking and raised her eyes from the flagstones. There was just enough light coming in from the narrow open slits on either end of the corridor, and she could hear the surf outside, so she did not feel particularly alarmed, just hungry and weary. Had she turned left or right at the Sea Gate? She retraced her steps, but the silence only deepened and so did the gloom.
She could not have come this way because at the end of the ill-lit tunnel with its vaulted ceiling there was nothing but a spiralling staircase heading downwards, which made little sense to her unless she had reached an entrance to the cellars? The Duke’s words came back to her—the cellars were closed off so surely there was no point in going down. Unless by coming in from the side door on the cliff side they had entered higher than the main entrance and by going down she would find herself some place familiar?
Utterly confused, she considered calling out, but stubbornness or pride held her back. At least now she was paying attention. She would go down and if it led merely to the cellars she would come directly back and try something else.
A dozen steps down she paused and, as she watched the darkness below her, it began to shift, moving closer, carrying with it a whisper of sound, like a great beast sighing in its sleep. She took an involuntary step back up the steps, her body gathering and her breathing quickening.
‘It is only a trick of the light and the wind.’ The strange sensation subsided as if chased away by the sound of her voice. Still, she hurried up the stairs, laughing a little at herself. Finally, she found herself at the familiar staircase inside the castle and sighed with relief.
‘Just like a child,’ she said aloud as she reached the ground floor.
‘What is?’
Her heart skittered at the Duke’s deep voice and she turned to see him descending the main staircase.
‘I am. I thought I was lost.’
He frowned and stopped two stairs short of the bottom.
‘Were you frightened?’
‘A little,’ she admitted. ‘Just for a moment. Angus and Jamie went ahead and I wasn’t paying attention and took a wrong turn.’
His frown went from cloudy to thunderous.
‘This is precisely why I told you to take Angus with you. He and Jamie should not have left you.’
‘Nothing happened, Your Grace. It was only a moment’s confusion.’ She certainly would not tell him about the stairs. That would probably convince him to lock her in her rooms for her own safety.
‘Nevertheless, I shall have a word with them.’
‘Oh, please don’t,’ she said impetuously. ‘We had such a lovely time finding treasures on the shore and Jamie was hungry and ran ahead and Angus told me to take my time... Please do not be upset with them. I do not require mollycoddling.’
He descended the two remaining stairs and she wished he had remained where he was. It brought him far too close, and with his superior height and breadth of shoulders, she felt frail which was a sensation she was not in the least accustomed to. He had made her ill at ease six years ago and there were still times she felt as tense as a filly being rushed down a cliff path. Perhaps it was his own tension communicating itself to her—the closer they came to his home the more evident it became, and she felt it vividly, like wasps in jar—humming, angry. She doubted she was its cause, but she did feel she was adding to his burdens instead of alleviating them. She wished Jamie was with her so the Duke could see how happy his son was after their visit to the beach, but perhaps that would make it worse.
She searched for a distraction and her eyes alighted on a portrait just beyond his left shoulder of a smiling young woman with dark hair and a lovely face that radiated curiosity and light. On the frame there was a worn inscription of a name: Marguerite. She had glimpsed it last night as they climbed to the nursery and even then it had struck her tired mind.
‘Who was Marguerite?’
‘Marguerite?’
‘The lady in that portrait.’
His stern look vanished in a smile as he turned to the painting and her heart flopped like a landed fish.
‘Oh, Daisy. She was an ancestor of mine.’
‘Daisy is an unusual name for someone of that period, isn’t it?’
‘Her name was Marguerite but I couldn’t pronounce that as a child, so my mother told me it meant daisy in French and that is what we called her.’
‘Is that why the lovely botanical plate of a daisy is hung by it?’
‘My mother painted that.’
‘Truly? It is so very beautiful! I remember now Jamie said she painted the map rooms for you. She must have been very talented.’
He shrugged, smile faltering, and she wondered what she had said to make him withdraw.
‘She looks like Jamie,’ she said.
His eyes met hers again and there was a peculiar intensity there.
‘Most people say he takes after Bella.’
She frowned, wondering why she no longer shared that same assessment. Perhaps her memory of Bella had faded or was overlaid with her image of the Duke and her knowledge of Jamie’s character.
‘I dare say he does. Or perhaps it is that Bella and your Daisy are rather alike as well.’
It was his turn to frown.
‘How on earth hadn’t I noticed that before?’ The question did not appear to be addressed to her in particular, so she didn’t bother answering, just watched his profile as his gaze moved over the painting. ‘Perhaps it is not that surprising; they were related, after all. Bella’s maternal ancestors were from the same French branch long ago and they remained in sporadic contact when it served their political purposes. In fact, my father met my mother while visiting the Uxmores as a young man when he came to court. I can see the similarities now, but they are still quite different.’
‘The colouring and the eyes and the mouth are similar, but the expression is different. Still, one cannot tell if that is the truth or the painter’s choice.’
‘By all accounts she was a very lovely woman, both in looks and spirit,’ he replied absently and Jo felt herself shrivel a little, only too aware of her shortcomings. ‘But then history has a way of reshaping the past to meet the needs of the present, so for all we know she might have been a shrew.’