Dear Miss. Daxton,
I trust you slept well. I will be dining in the main hall this evening, should you wish to join me.I wish you a pleasant day.
Yours,
Lucian Nightingale
Katherine rolled her eyes at the formality. A sticky note would’ve sufficed. It looked like Lord Nightingale still wanted for her to have dinner with him. Well, he would be disappointed. She might be stuck there in his weird castle in the hills, but that didn’t mean she would roll over and do whatever it was he wanted. She had turned down his request for a dinner companion during their negotiation. She wasn’t about the change her mind after one night.
She set the note aside and lifted the tray onto her lap; time to see what breakfast had in store. She lifted the cloche and was greeted by the delicious sight of buttermilk pancakes topped with fresh fruit and lightly whipped cream. The smell was heavenly and her stomach growled in appreciation. She shouldn’t eat the pancakes, especially as she’d indulged in the grease-fest that had been the grilled cheese sandwich at the bar the night before, but the temptation was too much. Lifting her cutlery she cut into the thick and fluffy stack and took a bite. A moan of delight left her mouth as the taste of creamy vanilla and tart berries danced over her tongue.
OK. So maybe this was going to be better than prison food.
After finishing every last scrap of her breakfast, Katherine downed the orange juice in greedy gulps. She sat back against the pillows and let out a sigh of contentment. With breakfast done with, she looked out into the room and pondered what she should do with her day. She was used to having a plan, having her studies to focus on. She couldn’t do any of that here. She’d need to get her stuff from her apartment. Had she known what her father had planned, she would’ve packed a few things to keep her occupied; namely her laptop. Who was she kidding; if she had known what her father had planned she wouldn’t have come.
She looked back down at her breakfast tray and realised she’d been absently stroking the petals of the pretty single rose that rested within the small vase. She had to admit, it was beautiful and a very nice addition to the aesthetics of her breakfast. She had never seen a rose the colour of lavender before, She picked up the stem and inspected the end, suspecting it had been dyed and some pigment would show, but it appeared to be natural. She placed the tray on the bedside table and carried the rose over to the large vase of white roses that sat by the chaise lounge. She nestled the lavender bloom in among the white and stood back to admire it once more. It really was pretty. Katherine wondered if Lord Nightingale had added it especially or whether that was the standard for all guests who stayed there.
Either way, it didn’t matter. Katherine decided it was time to test her jailer to see if he would honour the conditions he had agreed to the night before. To begin with, she would explore the place, maybe go for a run. She hadn’t pounded the streets for a couple of days and her body was telling her it needed to be let loose. She couldn’t stay cooped up in her room the whole time and he had agreed to let her come and go about the estate as she wished. Heading into the walk-in closet, she perused the shelves looking for something comfortable to wear.
She had discovered the secret treasure trove after saying good night to Lord Nightingale. OK, so perhaps it was less of a ‘goodnight’ and more of a ‘here is a door in your face’. But she’d been pleasantly surprised to find an array of clothes available to her. She was still wearing the pair of silk, button-down Pajamas in a dark navy blue that she’d found last night and was grateful that a number of different sizes were available. She always needed odd sizes due to inheriting her mother’s sizeable chest. She hadn’t been so lucky with the underwear department. None of the bras were in her size, but that was no matter. She had yesterday’s that she could re-use for today and hopefully, she would be permitted to return to her apartment to collect a few essentials. She needed her laptop, her phone charger, and her study materials if she was going to be able to keep on top of her studies while she was at Tumbricane.
Disappointed at the lack of workout clothes, Katherine selected a pair of soft black leggings, a large baggy sweatshirt, and some flat ballet pumps. They would do just fine for spending the day exploring the mansion and the grounds. It might’ve been misty outside but it had at least stopped raining, so she wouldn’t need a coat.
Before she left to roam the empty halls, Katherine penned a quick note to Lord Nightingale. She would leave it with the breakfast things outside her room. He had said if she couldn’t find him to speak with his butler instead. Well, she didn’t particularly feel like having another conversation with the unnervingly handsome Lord of the Manor, so she was certain that Mr. Jones could deliver her message instead.
Dear Lord Nightingale,
Thank you for the delicious breakfast. I, unfortunately, will not be joining you for dinner this evening, as per my stipulations last night; I like to eat my meals in peace.
As you so kindly added to the terms and conditions of our contract, I would like to request leave to collect some essential belongings from my apartment. Had I known that I would not be returning for two months, I would’ve packed a bag accordingly. Most specifically, I require my laptop, I do not want to fall behind on my studies while I am your guest here at Tumbricane, nor do I have suitable attire to exercise as I would like.
Please let me know when I am at liberty to leave,
Yours,
Katherine Daxton
She folded the letter and placed it in the same spot where she had found his note, propped up against the cloche, before placing the tray outside her room.
Katherine looked left and right down the corridor outside her room and decided it would be easier for her to get her bearings if she started back down in the main hall. The whole place was dark as she strode across the vast hall. The windows that had looked out onto some kind of courtyard last night were now drawn shut, blocking out the day.
She crept over to one and peered behind the heavy curtain. Beyond lay a beautifully manicured garden, filled with winding paths leading to various tall stone fountains. She craned her ear to listen to the muted sound of the delicate trickling of water and smiled, it really was a lovely sound. But the most noticeable thing was the rose bushes that dominated the pathways. She tracked her eyes from one end of the courtyard to the other, liking how the colour of the roses seemed to meld and merge into the next vibrant bloom. Close to the far end, before it curved around to the other side of the main hall, Katherine spied the lavender blooms.
Again, she wasn’t sure why it mattered, but it made her smile to think her breakfast rose had come from the gardens rather than being delivered by some pimple-faced courier.
Katherine closed the heavy drapes and looked for a door to take her out into the garden. She searched all along each long wall of windows, but couldn’t find an entrance. Save from abseiling down from her balcony, she couldn’t figure out how anyone got in there. She turned around and looked about the vast room, her eyes landing on the long tapestry hanging behind Lord Nightingale’s single chair. More like a throne, she mused to herself.
She strode over to the heavy tapestry and craned her neck as she looked up to try to make out what the pattern was. The fabric was dark and heavily dusted. The Lord of the Manor could do with getting some professional cleaners to work on it. She stood back a step or two and squinted at it once more. A vague shape of a flower could just about be made out in the centre of a large shield. It was the same as she had seen on the wax seal. Perhaps it was a family coat of arms or something? Maybe she’d ask his Lordship about it if she ever got up the courage to meet with him again. The memory of how his dark eyes had watched her with an intensity that pulled at something deep down, rose up within her. She shivered at the thought.
He was a handsome, powerful man who exuded confidence. That was all it was.
As Katherine continued to gaze at the tapestry she noticed the slight movement of it against the floor, as if moved by the wind. She had chec
ked all the windows, none were open. But the breeze must’ve been coming from somewhere. She stepped closer to the tapestry and peered around the edge of it. Behind it was a stone wall, just the same as all the other walls in the place. She lifted the tapestry further back and slid behind it, running her hand along the wall. She grinned when her fingers traced over a ledge in the stonework. She followed her hands in the pitch black and stepped forward into a doorway, her foot stubbed against something. With hesitant steps, she lifted her foot and placed it down upon a step. She wished she had thought to take her phone with her. It was low on battery but she really could’ve done with a torch. She’d found a secret staircase. Just as she was about to take another step, she heard a noise from inside the main hall behind her and she froze instantly.
She listened hard, whatever or whoever was in the Hall a moment ago had gone. She slowly let out her held breath soundlessly. She thought she had probably better leave her explorations until she had a torch. For all she knew, she was about to fall into some bottomless pit or dungeon. She wouldn’t be surprised if the creepy castle sported its very own dungeon. Ever so carefully, Katherine slid herself along the stone wall and peeked out from behind the heavy tapestry.
The room was empty.
Breathing a sigh of relief she stepped out into the room once more and walked as calmly as she could manage towards the staircase that would return her to her room. As she walked past Lord Nightingale’s throne a flash of cream caught her eye. There on the seat was another wax-sealed note. She looked all around but couldn’t see any sign of him or Mr. Jones. She doubted it had been the butler who had delivered it. She would’ve heard his shuffling steps. Katherine picked up the letter and opened it.
Dear Miss. Daxton,
I’m pleased to hear you enjoyed your breakfast. As much as I wish you would reconsider, I understand that much has changed for you in a short space of time and you are reluctant to dine with me. Perhaps given a little more time, this arrangement might become more agreeable to you.
As per your request, I apologise that you have not found your quarters adequately appointed. If you would like to provide a list of items that you require I will see to it that these are procured for you as appropriate.
I trust I need not remind you again that as per the terms of our agreement, you are not at liberty to leave Tumbricane until the term of the contract has ended.
Yours,
Lucian Nightingale
Katherine felt rage boiling in her veins.
The son of a bitch.
She crumpled the letter in her hand and threw it down onto the floor. Of all the condescending, manipulative, infuriating bastards out there, Lord Lucian Nightingale took the crown.
Perhaps given a little more time, this arrangement might become more agreeable to you. She supposed he thought he was being clever, trying to coerce her into doing what he wanted by refusing her perfectly reasonable request, and pointing out yet again just how long she would have to stay there. Katherine had grown up amongst crooks and conmen and knew how to read between the lines of his rhetoric. Play nice and you can have your things, otherwise, your time here is going to be less than ideal.
Screw you Lord Asswipe.
Katherine stormed towards the doors to the smaller entrance hall and shoved them open angrily. Not breaking her pace, she grabbed at the main door to the outside and pulled at it. It didn’t budge. She tried again, tugging at the handle fruitlessly and looking up and down the huge wooden door to see if it were bolted. There were no bolts holding it in place. She peered between the join and saw a lock was in place.
The bastard had locked her in.
With a growl of anger, she shoved away from the door, slamming her fist against it. Fine. No way out by the front door and no way out into the rose-filled courtyard. The lying bastard had told her she was free to move about the estate. He had broken a condition of their agreement and she would return the favour, starting with calling the police and reporting a kidnapping.
She sprinted up the stone staircase and sped along to her room, stumbling inside. She spied her phone lying on the perfectly made bed, the thought of Mr. Jones shuffling around the bed she was sleeping in made her skin crawl. She snatched it up and pressed the power button. Nothing happened. She shook her phone in frustration.
“Come on, come on.”
Nothing. The battery had died and she had no means of charging it.
Katherine grit her teeth and stormed to the French doors that led to her balcony, they opened and she rushed to the edge of the stone balustrade. She looked down over the rose garden. She was too high up, she couldn’t jump it without likely breaking her ankles, nor could she be certain that she’d be able to find her way out. She scanned the walls that surrounded the courtyard. For the most part, she saw much of the same; grey stone walls with evenly spaced-out windows. No other balconies other than hers. She cursed and a slight feeling of hopelessness started crawling out from the pit of her stomach.
No. She wouldn’t let herself be beaten.
She’d grown up tough and savvy. She was smart and capable. Lord Nightingale wouldn’t subdue her so easily. She scanned the opposite wall again, looking down at ground level. In the corner that adjoined her side of the courtyard, there was a light coming from a covered basement window. Bingo.
Katherine ran back out of her room, and straight down the stairwell back down to ground level. Just as she suspected the stairwell continued downward. There was at least another level below. She hurriedly ran down to the next level and inwardly cheered when she found a well-lit corridor leading along what she guessed was the front perimeter of the mansion. She tried every door as she went, most were storage cupboards or were locked. Finally, she came across one door that opened into a brightly lit kitchen.
It was huge and had a clinical stainless steel look about it. Despite the traditional and dated feel of the mansion, the kitchen would’ve been the envy of any chef worth their salt. Katherine wasn’t in the mood for cooking however, she needed to escape and get to the town to find help before Lord Nightingale or Mr. Jones caught up with her. She paced around the central island and over in the far corner she spied what she had been looking for. A back door.
She rushed to it and let out a victorious cry as the handle gave under her hand and it swung back, revealing iron steps leading up to ground level.
She took the steps two at a time and sprinted for the front of the mansion, only to skid to a halt. Her rental car was gone. She’d given the keys to her father.
Dammit.
She looked down the driveway to where she knew the bridge across the chasm was behind the heavy fog that had crept in. She would be running into it blind. Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention, she felt like she was being watched. She looked frantically all-around before peering up at the mansion. There were numerous windows looking out above her, she couldn’t make out anyone standing at any of them but it got her thinking. She’d likely be spotted heading across the bridge and then it’d be all too easy to catch up to her and drag her back to her gilded cage.
She glanced back the way she had run and looked at the tall trees that rose steadily up the hills behind the Tumbricane estate. She always did enjoy cross country running, and she had decided to explore her surroundings today. There had to be another town or house further up the mountain where she could seek help.
With her mind made up, Katherine broke into a run and disappeared into the forest.
Chapter Five
Lucian
Dammit.
Lucian cursed for the umpteenth time as he paced the length of his suite.
Katherine had gone. He wasn’t sure why she had run and left the safety of the Tumbricane estate but she had. What’s more, she hadn’t headed back towards Darkhills, she had chosen to go deep into the mountains that rose up behind his mansion. While he knew any wolf shifters or bear shifters in the area would likely avoid a run-in with any human. He couldn’t be sure about any of
the truly wild creatures that lived in the mountains.
He cursed his own existence as he waited anxiously for the sun to dip low enough in the sky for him to risk leaving the shelter of his home. He had considered sending Mr. Jones but he had no faith in the older gentleman’s ability to find her. The poor man didn’t do well in unfamiliar surroundings and Lucian doubted he would be able to track her even if he tried.
The one trick he had up his sleeve, however, was that he had summoned the clouds with his mind to descend on Tumbricane, covering the land in a heavy fog. It would help block out any glimmer of the sun as soon as dusk arrived; he wouldn’t need to wait for full dark. It might sting his eyes a little, but the discomfort wouldn’t last long, and quite frankly his discomfort was the least of his worries.
Katherine had been gone for hours and hadn’t returned. Anything could’ve happened to her during that time. He had promised to ensure her safety during her two-month stay with him, and yet, not twenty-four hours had passed and he had already failed. Failure was not something that Lucian did often.
Why had she run? Lucian thought back again to every interaction they had shared since her arrival. He had been understanding that she still did not wish to dine with him, he had offered to have whatever it was she required brought to her. She had said she had enjoyed her breakfast. Something that had pleased him greatly. He hadn’t known what she would have preferred so had chosen what would’ve suited his palate, had he still eaten food. He had always enjoyed cooking, even when he was a young boy he had spent countless hours in the kitchens of his family home in England pestering the cook to let him help. For Katherine to say she enjoyed his cooking, was a rare pleasure. He hadn’t cooked for anyone in years.
Escaping The Beast: A Darkhills Romance (The Darkhills Series Book 2) Page 4