A Stranger's Kiss

by Rosemary Smith

  *

  The squawking of the ravens awoke me with a start the next morning. Surprisingly I’d slept well. Early daylight filtered into the room tinged with a rosy glow from the curtains. I slipped quickly out of bed and donned my pale blue dressing gown, recalling Mrs Mallory’s words on my arrival.

  I was eager to know who the visitor was at this time of the morning, causing the birds to swoop to the tower, for I could see by the small marble clock at my bedside it was six-thirty. Pulling the curtains back I caught sight of a young woman in a royal blue cloak, the hood of which covered her head, but I recognised the cloak and knew it to be Amelia’s.

  ‘Amelia!’ I called her name in vain for she disappeared round the corner in the direction of the garden with an older woman who was her companion. Quickly I ran to my door, running along the corridor with bare feet, totally oblivious of my attire or the fact that my long blonde wavy hair flowed behind me.

  I sped down the staircase one hand on the polished banister to be met at the bottom by a startled Mrs Mallory who was crossing the hall. She caught my arm, preventing me from my intention of opening the front door, which even as I looked I could see was chained and bolted top and bottom.

  ‘Miss Osborne,’ the housekeeper admonished me, ‘have you any idea how unseemly the sight of you in your night attire, your hair loose and your bare feet would appear to a gentleman.’

  ‘No, I hadn’t thought of it,’ I replied, snatching my arm away from her. People in this house seemed intent on catching hold of the same arm, I thought.

  ‘From where I’m standing it’s a pretty sight I assure you!’

  I whirled around to see Michael Tremaine smiling at me from the open doorway of the drawing room.

  My face was scarlet and as Mrs Mallory ushered me up the staircase, my hair and night attire flowing behind me, I looked back to see him lounging against the doorframe an amused expression on his handsome face.

  As I thought of his handsome face, glittering black eyes and dark curling hair I realised I wished to make a good impression on him and I could easily understand how Amelia had fallen in love with him.

  Looking out of the window once more, I could see the ravens were silent now and back in the tree. The sea looked grey, ever tumbling towards the steep cliff and I thought for an instant that I had imagined seeing Amelia, but dismissed the thought just as quickly.

  But why would the Tremaine family dismiss her being here? I came to the conclusion that one or all of them were lying. But who? And also why?

  I sat in the armchair and nodded off to sleep to be woken by Tilly carrying a breakfast tray which she deposited on the small table at my side. My feet were freezing and I wished the fire was lit, but the ashes still lay forlornly in the cold grate.

  ‘It’s a grey day today, Miss,’ said Tilly, stating the obvious as I turned to look at the grey clouds scudding across the sky. ‘What will you wear, Miss?’ she asked, opening the wardrobe.

  I suddenly felt I’d lived here for a very long time and had a feeling of déjà vu, and my eyes were drawn to the young woman in the portrait. No matter where I was in the room her eyes surveyed me and I felt quite unsettled by it, making a mental note to ask someone who she was.

  ‘Miss Sara, are you with me or not?’ Tilly’s’ exasperated voice cut into my thoughts. She was still standing by the open wardrobe, waiting patiently for an answer. I picked a rose-pink day dress, the bodice v-necked and buttoned to the waist.

  I had no notion as to what I intended to do today, but my main aim was to avoid Violet. Don’t be uncharitable, I chided myself at the thought. Stepping into the corridor I looked to see if anyone was around. On seeing the coast was clear I once again tried the door of Amelia’s room. It was shut fast against me.

  I knocked gently on the door with some thought that she may be in there, but all was silent within and I made my way towards the main staircase with a sinking heart, realising that I knew little of the layout of the house and thinking that because of this I had no hope of looking for my friend.

  I stopped by the wooden staircase, an idea occurring to me. Without the intention of doing so I made my way downward, lifting my skirts as I walked along the threadbare carpets to the metal door I had discovered yesterday. I lifted the large latch and had expected the door to be firmly closed, but it swung back easily with little noise and I could see the hinges were well oiled, which led me to believe the door was used frequently.

  Stepping inside I could see why; the stone walled room was full of racks of wine and my heart sank, disappointment flowing through me just as I felt something move under my skirts. Looking down I could see it was a mouse and I screamed. The mouse scuttled off.

  ‘You are surely not afraid of mice, young lady.’ A deep masculine voice arrested my attention as the sound of it reverberated around the walls. A voice I didn’t recognise and I knew instinctively it was an older man. I turned round to face him.

  ‘I am afraid I am, Sir,’ I said sheepishly.

  ‘Then you should not be poking and prying around in wine cellars which don’t belong to you.’ As he spoke I met his gaze. The voice was harsh and I knew the words weren’t meant in a light-hearted way.

  ‘I’m sorry, I thought ...’ I commenced, but thought better of it as I was sure this man, whoever he was, wouldn’t understand that I had imagined my friend may be here. My wish was to escape, but his solid frame blocked the doorway and he stood firm, intent on ensuring I would not poke my nose anywhere it wasn’t meant to again.

  He was a striking looking man with thick silver-coloured hair, a firm jaw and the dark glittering eyes of the Tremaine family. But whereas until now I had seen softness and mirth looking at me, his eyes showed anger and hostility.

  ‘I take it you are Sara Osborne from Bath,’ he said, taking a small jewelled snuffbox from his pocket and then proceeding to sniff at the powdered tobacco.

  ‘Yes, I am,’ I said demurely, all the while looking at him praying that I could soon escape, not just from this cellar but from Ravensmount itself. Maybe Tilly should have left half my belongings in the trunk after all.

  ‘My family are foolish, every one of them,’ he said with a derisory tone, placing the snuffbox back in his pocket. ‘Not one of them married, and why? I’ll tell you why, because they fall in love with the wrong people and I will not have any one of them marrying without my approval. Let my words be a warning to you.’

  ‘But Tobias is the master here,’ I said bravely, thinking that I would marry whoever I liked.

  ‘What gave you that notion, Sara Osborne, I cannot imagine, for I, Abraham Tremaine am master of Ravensmount and will be until I take my last breath.’ As he spoke the words, he stepped to one side, the doorway open to me. I took this as a sign of dismissal and scuttled past him without a sideways glance, hoping never to incur his wrath again.

  Before I looked for Tilly to ask her to help me pack our things in readiness for our departure, I made my way to the arch of honeysuckle and the tranquillity of the garden. Sitting on the stone seat where only hours ago I had sat with Michael, I recalled my short encounter with the true master of this house. My knees were still trembling at the thought of Abraham Tremaine’s overbearing presence. Thankfully his personality had not been passed on to his children Tobias, Michael, Rosalind and Violet.

  The thought of Michael made me smile and I recalled this morning’s incident when I had stood vulnerably at the foot of the staircase. I would be sad not to see Michael again, and what of Amelia? Would I be letting her down if I left so soon? Was I making the right decision? The thought of the incident in the wine cellar brought me to answer. Making my way once more through the hall I encountered Rosalind again.

  It was like a re-enactment of the previous evening. ‘Lunch will be served in the small dining room,’ she said, indicating a room behind the staircase next to the drawing room. ‘From twelve noon until two. You are most welcome to join us and I have spoken to Tobias about a small party in your honour tomorr
ow.’ She talked with little chance of me to interrupt.

  ‘It’s kind of you, Miss Tremaine, but I shall be leaving in the morning if it can be arranged,’ I said quietly, noting that today she wore a cream-coloured gown which gave her the look of the young woman in the portrait in my room.

  ‘Surely not, Sara,’ she said softly, ‘I had hoped we could be friends, for life is dismal here and Violet is such a trial, not to mention ...’ Here she broke off and I had the distinct feeling she was going to name her father as another trial. I was just about to reply when someone took my arm. Turning away from Rosalind I could see it was Violet.

  ‘You promised to see my studio, Sara,’ she said excitedly, tugging at my bell sleeve, ‘I’ve been looking for you all over.’

  I looked at my fobwatch. An hour until luncheon. ‘I have an hour, Violet,’ I said kindly. She was indeed like a child, although a beautiful woman in truth. ‘Excuse me, Miss Tremaine. I accept your kind offer for luncheon when we may continue our conversation.’

  Rosalind watched Violet and I as we walked up the staircase, Violet leading me by my hand to Lord knows where and practically pulling me over in her haste as I quickly gathered up my pink skirts in one hand.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I asked as we turned into the opposite side of the corridor to where my room was situated.

  ‘To the south tower,’ she said. ‘Silly you, not knowing. Everyone knows my studio is here.’

  ‘But I am new here, Violet,’ I said breathlessly due to exertion as she led me up a steep flight of stone steps at the end of the corridor. On reaching the top I took a moment to get my breath as Violet fumbled in the side pocket of her mauve dress for what was obviously a key to the door. So she kept it locked, I thought momentarily and wondered why.

  The sight that met me as we entered the room made me feel physically sick. Black ravens filled the room, either cast in stone and painted black or depicted on canvas, some alive, some lying dead, the blood seeping from various wounds and every eye faced me as I looked, even those in death. Quickly I turned away and wished fervently I had my smelling salts with me.

  ‘Does it frighten you, Sara?’ asked Violet, dancing around me with glee. ‘It does most people, but Amelia loved them, like I do. She was a kindred spirit. Tell me where she is, I liked Amelia.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said gently, ‘but I need to go back to my room.’

  ‘Not yet, Sara. I have a secret. Come with me.’ She quickly locked the door, and no matter where she took me next I was never so glad to see the back of anything as I was that studio, and as we traced our footsteps back along the corridor the nausea which had risen in my throat started to fade.

  Violet stopped at an archway without a door. On passing through I could see a balcony with polished railings.

  ‘See?’ she said excitedly as she pulled me to the railings.

  And I did see, for as I looked over I could see the hall of Ravensmount and I realised I stood in a minstrels’ gallery. I could see the front door of the drawing room and the staircase.

  As I looked, Tobias stepped down the staircase and made his way to the small dining room. On the wall between the two rooms was an immense portrait I recognised as the man, Abraham Tremaine.

  ‘They will play music here for your party,’ shrieked Violet, ‘and I shall watch everything.’

  ‘So this is your secret?’ I asked quietly.

  ‘Oh no, Sara. I cannot tell you my secret or it would be a secret no longer.’ So saying she ran off, her shrill laughter pounding in my brain.

  4

  As I stood there after Violet’s departure, I saw her run down the staircase and enter the dining room. It must be time for luncheon, I mused, and was unsure whether to join the family or not. It was then I saw Michael leave the drawing room and walk slowly to join his siblings. The sight of him made my mind up for me and I made my way to join them myself.

  Entering the room I could see all five of them there. Abraham sat at the head of the table watching me, indeed as they all were, and my thought was to make my excuses and leave, but Abraham stopped me from doing so.

  ‘Be seated, young lady, we’ve waited long enough.’ As he spoke he indicated a chair opposite him. The table only held places for six and as I sat dutifully on the chair I idly wondered how long it had been since the mistress of the Ravensmount had occupied it. Violet sat next to her father and I noticed his hand was laid across hers protectively.

  Rosalind sat by her father, also opposite her sister. She now looked down at her plate not meeting my eye. Michael sat to the left of me and Tobias to the right. Strange, I thought, how they all had dark eyes like their father except for Violet, but as she looked at me with a sardonic expression on her lovely face, I realised she was the one most like her father, cruel and manipulative.

  ‘We will bow our heads,’ commanded Abraham, and I saw they all did. Before closing my eyes I caught Michael looking at me and as our eyes locked he smiled encouragingly, which served to make me feel better and doubting my resolve to leave.

  ‘Are you comfortable?’ asked Tobias as he handed me a glass dish which contained a salad.

  ‘Why yes, thank you,’ I replied looking at him and thinking once more how ruggedly handsome he was, more so than his brother.

  ‘And where are you sleeping, Miss Osborne?’ Abraham’s voice was loud and demanded an instant answer. I looked towards Rosalind not sure as to what I should say.

  ‘I have given Miss Osborne the rose room, Father.’

  As she spoke Rosalind looked down at her plate. At her words a look of thunder crossed Abraham’s face then disappeared as quickly as it had come.

  ‘You know, daughter, that I do not wish that room to be occupied,’ Abraham admonished.

  ‘But Father, it is such a pretty room, far prettier than any other bedroom in this house,’ Rosalind pleaded her case.

  ‘My thought is to leave tomorrow,’ I cut in, hoping to distract Mr Tremaine from taking Rosalind further to task. My words had a various effect on the Tremaine family as they all looked at me.

  ‘But you can’t leave,’ wailed Violet, ‘I have so much to show you.’

  ‘You surely don’t intend to leave us so soon,’ Michael said quietly.

  ‘The girl can leave when she wants,’ observed Abraham sharply, ‘after all she is but a stranger. Now eat, and that’s an order.’

  For some reason his words cut me to the core, but they were true, I was indeed a stranger, although I felt that in less than twenty-four hours I had come to know them all.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ I managed to utter. Michael and Tobias stood. I noted that Abraham Tremaine did not, he just watched me with callous amusement. All was silent as I left the room except for my heels clicking on the polished floor. I stood for some moments at the foot of the beautiful staircase intent on gaining some composure.

  ‘Miss Osborne,’ a deep mellow voice caused me to turn around to see Tobias walking purposefully toward me. ‘Please stay.’ At these words I was stunned. To have heard them from Michael I could have understood.

  ‘It would seem, Mr Tremaine, that your father would prefer me gone,’ I replied quietly.

  ‘But I wish you to stay. You have brought a ray of sunshine into this house. Please come with me to see Lizard Point this afternoon. It is so beautiful there and it may help you change your mind. Please say yes,’ Tobias urged.

  ‘Very well,’ I agreed. For how could I say no, the mouth which had uttered the words ‘please stay’ was so beautifully shaped I had a sudden urge to kiss it, but Tobias would never know my thoughts.

  ‘Please give me half-an-hour to refresh myself,’ I said, noticing the afternoon sun was starting to spill through the drawing room window. The door was open and I thought of only yesterday when I had first set eyes on this man in a beam of sunlight.

  ‘I will organise the pony and trap this instant.’ With which words he was gone.

  Before I ascended the staircase I looked across the hall
to see if I could locate the minstrels’ gallery. It was there, but quite high in the wall and I needed to raise my eyes upward to see it. Even as I looked at the polished railings I could see Mrs Mallory watching me. As I observed her she stepped back into the shadows out of view and my thought was that she would report the scene she had just witnessed, but to whom?

  Settled in the trap, my pink skirts placed decorously around my legs and my prettiest pink bonnet with the brim decorated with tiny violet flowers on my head, I watched my companion climb deftly onto the seat beside me and expertly take up the reins, urging the pony forward.

  ‘Are you warm enough?’ Tobias asked me solicitously.

  ‘I am fine, thank you,’ I answered, smiling at him. The afternoon sun behind us warmed me as did thoughts of my good fortune at sharing this glorious afternoon with a handsome stranger. What Papa and Mama would think of it I could only imagine.

  ‘A penny for your thoughts,’ said Tobias, bringing me out of my revelry.

  ‘I was thinking of Amelia,’ I replied quietly. It would have been so easy to have told him a white lie, but for some reason I wished to be completely honest with this attractive man.

  ‘What exactly are you thinking?’ he enquired as we bowled along the lane through the pleasant countryside, not a dwelling in view.

  ‘To be perfectly honest, Mr Tremaine, I was asking myself how Amelia would feel if she could see me with you,’ I answered tentatively. ‘For you must have loved her once.’

  As I spoke I looked wistfully at my companion who pulled the reins, causing the pony and trap to come to a halt.

  ‘I thought I loved Amelia, Miss Osborne, but the more time I spent in her company I came to realise that despite her gaiety and happy disposition, Amelia was transparent and for the want of a better word, boring. I soon came to realise that she was not the wife I imagined that I wanted and then ...’ Here he paused, turning away from me and looking out over the green fields deep in thought.