"Come in, Nurse Holt. You are expected." She had spoken before Hillary had had a chance to open her mouth, the words rasping out in a dry, brittle voice. Then she stepped backward and motioned for Hillary to enter the door.
"Thank you," Hillary stammered, ill at ease and self-conscious before the frank stare that the little woman made no effort to hide.
"I am Mrs. Raymond, Miss Scott's housekeeper. I will show you to your room now, and my husband will fetch your luggage from the car. Miss Scott will wish to see you directly, I am sure. Follow me please."
The little housekeeper wasted no words on amenities. She was brusque and without the slightest trace of warmth. Hillary had no choice but to follow her uniformed back. They crossed the large stone foyer and headed for the wide stairway that rose before them. Hillary glanced with avid curiosity at massive stone walls, at the distant ceilings that seemed to mock her presence.
It was dim here, the illumination in the foyer coming from a few small electric lights, designed to look like candle sconces, stationed along the walls. They cast a shadowy glow, and Hillary suppressed a little shiver as her footsteps echoed smartly on the stone floor.
Up the stairs they traveled, past long rows of painted portraits of the former residents of Eagle's Watch, standing stiff and erect in their dated finery. They made an intriguing sight, and one which Hillary would have loved to study, but the efficient Mrs. Raymond bustled her along. Toward the top of the flight, the stairway made a sharp turn to the right, past an open balcony that offered a good view of the large foyer below.
Moving through a tall archway, they came upon a long, gracious corridor. The housekeeper opened the first door on the right.
"This will be your room, Nurse Holt. Miss Scott's suite is right next door. I am sure you'd like to freshen up after your long journey, and to change into something more appropriate." Her nose had a peculiar pinched look about it as she gazed disapprovingly at the pale yellow pantsuit Hillary had worn for the trip.
"I'll return in twenty minutes to bring you to Miss Scott."
She was gone. Hillary stood dumbfounded at the door to her room, feeling a mixture of annoyance at the woman who had regarded her with such obvious distaste and mirth at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. Was this for real? The mirth finally won out, and a little giggle began to rise in her throat as she ducked into her room.
Hillary looked around her and saw the room for the first time. A surge of delight ran through her. It was spacious and airy, amazingly bright compared to the small bit of the dark castle that she had seen so far. The carpet, drapes, and walls were decorated tastefully in soft shades of green. Three square windows occupied the far wall, standing open now. A slight breeze drifted in, rustling the soft curtains.
The furniture was attractive and modern, her small bathroom sparkling and very adequate. It was a room that she knew she could be very comfortable in, an oasis away from the dreariness of the castle below.
A sullen, quiet man knocked at the door and entered with her luggage, a few simple suitcases containing all of her worldly possessions. He was dressed in rough work clothes, showing signs of recent outdoor work on the huge estate. She thanked him briefly, and he was gone, being even less talkative than his bristly wife.
Hillary turned to her bags, ever mindful of the minutes rapidly slipping away. Mrs. Raymond would be at her door once again in a very short time, and she felt compelled to be ready and waiting.
She giggled at the thought of the dour housekeeper. Such strange inhabitants of Eagle's Watch she had met so far! Were they any indication of the personality of the mistress whom she had yet to meet? Would she be able to get along with Priscilla Scott?
She was determined to make a go of things. Someday, she thought with a grin, she might even look back at it all and have a good laugh. After all, how many people could say that they had resided in the dark depths of a medieval castle?
Opening one suitcase and extracting a freshly laundered uniform, white and trim, Hillary said a silent prayer of thanks for permanent press. She washed quickly in the little bathroom and changed her clothes. White dress, white stockings and shoes, white cap. She looked into the full mirror on the bathroom door, regarding the girl who gazed back at her. She studied the red hair, which hung gracefully to her shoulders, turning under slightly at the ends. Her thick bangs barely touched her eyebrows, bringing out the softness in her large, green eyes.
She wrinkled her nose as she looked at it, pert and turned up. It gave an inkling that its strong-minded owner was easy to laugh, as well as easy to get angry. Her mouth was red, and a bit too large, and her freckles stood out sharply against her pale skin.
Not a pretty face, she told herself. Just a face. But it was a face that came to life with her sparkling green eyes and her smiling mouth. She smoothed the nurse's uniform over her trim figure and gave a last sigh. She was ready for "smiley" Mrs. Raymond.
Warning at Eagle's Watch
A Classic Medical/Mystery Romance
by
Christine Bush
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Warning at Eagle's Watch
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Christine Bush has been writing stories of romance and mystery since 1977. She believes in love, new beginnings and happy endings in real life as well as in her novels. When she's not writing, she can be found enjoying life with her wonderful family in scenic Pennsylvania, teaching Psychology at a local college, and working with clients as a Marriage and Family Therapist in private practice. Christine loves hearing from readers and from aspiring writers. She can be reached at www.christinebush.com
Table of Contents
Cover
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Excerpt from DANGER AT DEER HOLLOW by Christine Bush
Excerpt from WARNING AT EAGLE'S WATCH by Christine Bush
Meet Christine Bush
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