Trondelaine Castle

by April Lynn Kihlstrom

  But then, surprisingly, Lord Pellen turned polite. “You must forgive my lack of manners. I am not accustomed to entertaining unknown young ladies. How are you feeling tonight?”

  “Better,” she answered warily.

  At that moment, a manservant came to announce that dinner was ready. Wendy fancied she could read disapproval of her in the servant’s eyes as they rested on her. Lord Pellen stood aside to let her go first.

  “I would offer you my arm,” he said. “However, I believe that would be rather impractical.”

  Wendy tilted her chin and concentrated on her crutches. Another servant stood ready to take them once she was seated. The table was lighted only by candles, and Wendy felt once again the absurdity of her position. She also thought Lord Pellen a little eccentric to insist on her company if he had such suspicions of her.

  The Earl, too, was preoccupied as he sat watching her. She did not know it, but he was at the end of his patience with all of the women who had tried to obtain money from him, one way or another, or to marry him. He felt sure Wendy was another of these. And he would make an example of her. Ideally, he would trap her attempting something illegal. At the very least, she would find her visit rather humiliating.

  In the candlelight he smiled. “Tell me about yourself,” he said with apparent good humor, “and about your family.”

  Still wary, she said, “My father is a college professor-history. He met my mother when he spent two years at a college here in England. In fact, I was born before they left for the States. He taught at one or two places in the East, then got tenure at Berkeley. So I grew up mostly in California. When I was ten years old, my mother died, leaving just me and Father. He’s very brilliant, and I love him, but my mother was more fun.

  “I guess I’ve always been something of a loner. I had friends, but there was a part of me most of them never saw. I was somewhat happier in college-the Univer sity of Pennsylvania. I majored in Russian literature and minored in Spanish, with lots of other courses to balance things off. When I graduated, I decided to come to England.

  “We hadn’t been able to visit when I was growing up, you see, and later my father wouldn’t. So I came by myself. Since I had dual citizenship, there were no problems about getting a job. I’ve been translating for a year now. And about four months ago, I met Kevin.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “Well, he’s two years older than me-twenty-five-tall, handsome in a rugged sort of way. He has dark hair and brown eyes. He’s intelligent, of course, and works at the publishing company. We have lots of the same interests: horseback riding, swimming, history, theater, and music.”

  “But not castles?” Lord Pellen suggested softly.

  “No,” Wendy said regretfully, “not castles. Though he would have come with me if I had really begged him to.”

  “I see,” was the reply.

  The silence made Wendy uneasy. “What about you?” she asked. “Tell me about yourself.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Really! Didn’t you even read my official biography? Very careless of you. Or clever. Very well. I was born thirty-one years ago in this very castle. My parents were a bit old to have children, and I was the only one. Like most of the Lord Pellens, my father married late. Then came the war and he was an officer, so they had to wait until the war was over before they had me.

  “In a way, it was fortunate. The family fortune had been lost during the Depression, and money was difficult to obtain until after the war. You see, my father had a talent for making money, and during the war, his business agent was directed to invest in arms production. After the war, it was real estate. So you can imagine how the family fortunes flourished.

  “And I? I was named after a Lord Richard Pellen whose only distinction was to have the good grace to die without heirs so that the title and land passed to a nephew in the money-making side of the family. The family has been in trade ever since, despite the sneers of more genteel lords. Now it’s our turn to sneer, seeing so many of them without money.

  “But, to continue, I was sent to Eton at the usual age, and later to Cambridge, where I majored in economics. Then, upon my graduation, I was instructed in family business matters by my father. Most of my time, however, was spent enjoying myself. It still is.

  “Two years ago, my parents were killed in an automobile crash near here. I, of course, inherited. Ever since then I’ve been plagued by females who would like to be Lady Pellen, and who would like to help me spend my money. One of the first things I did was to throw this tomb open to the public on Friday evenings in summer. Someone might as well get some pleasure from the place. I don’t!”

  Wendy listened quietly. Despite his mocking tone, Lord Pellen seemed far more human than before. In the softness of the candlelight, she might almost have been tempted to tell him that some women might have wanted him for himself and not for his wealth.

  She did say, “Well, you needn’t be suspicious of me. In the States, we find titles less impressive.”

  Pellen laughed harshly. “My dear Wendy. Shall I call you that? Yes, I think I shall. Wendy, some of the ladies most eager for my title were American!”

  She flushed. “You know, Lord Pellen, I don’t understand why you insist I stay here if you distrust me so much.”

  “Call me Lord Richard-it’s so much less formal,” he said mockingly. “Let’s say I have my reasons. They’re sufficient and I don’t choose to disclose them. More wine?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Afraid I’ll get you drunk and assualt your virtue?” he mocked. “You have the roles reversed, I think.”

  Wendy was becoming quite angry and it showed in her eyes. Lord Richard, watching, was puzzled. Confound it, he thought, why did she look as though she felt insulted? For a moment, he was vaguely uneasy, then banished the notion that he had misjudged her. The evidence was too strong against the girl. He began to talk at random about the local countryside.

  Much later, they rose from the table. They were laughing together and Wendy felt very relaxed. She hobbled on her crutches toward the hall and her room. Behind her, Lord Richard stood watching with narrowed eyes and a twisted smile that would have disturbed Wendy had she seen it. But she did not.

  In her room, her wrapper and nightgown had again been laid out. Her other skirt and blouse hung in the wardrobe, clean and pressed. Something seemed odd about the room. Suddenly, she realized what it was. The bookshelves were now full of books. In amazement, she began looking at the titles.

  Her initial pleasure turned to irritation. All of the books were apparently light novels. True, they were the best of their kind and the sort she generally enjoyed. But she liked to read other books, as well, and she had a growing suspicion that the selection offered was meant to be an insult. He must have seen her reading the volume of history. Well, the matter would have to wait until morning. If it was meant as an insult, she couldn’t let it pass.

  Soon she went to bed with one of the novels. She was thoroughly engrossed in the plot and quickly lost track of time.

  Wendy woke to the sound of someone tapping at her door. A quick glance at her watch confirmed her suspicions. It was nine o’clock. “Come in!” she called.

  The maid entered, carrying the breakfast tray. Like the perfectly trained servant she was, she showed no reaction to the sight of Wendy still in bed. And this morning, there was no message from Lord Pellen-no, he had said to call him Lord Richard, hadn’t he?

  At any rate, as soon as the maid had gone, Wendy pulled her wrapper around her and hobbled to the table. She sipped the hot tea gratefully, for though it was July, the castle was chilly in the morning.

  It was nearly ten o’clock before she was ready to emerge from her room. The library door stood open and, as the room was deserted, she entered without hesitation. She soon found the section she was interested in, one she had noticed the day before. Wendy was so intent on the volume in her hand that she did not hear the footsteps.

  “Good morning, Wen
dy,” came a deep voice from behind her.

  She started, then turned clumsily on her crutches to face Lord Richard. “Good morning.”

  “I rather thought the books I had sent to your room would eliminate the need for you to visit my library,” he said casually. Wendy did not reply and he added, “I believe they are rather more suitable than”-he looked at the book she held-“than Voltaire.”

  “Lord Richard,” she replied evenly, “there is no need to repeat the insult. I perceived it the first time I saw the selection of books you had sent to my room. Not one history, philosophy, or even biography. Not one informative book. I grant you that the ones you chose are the best of their genre, and that I enjoy them. At the moment, however, Voltaire interests me more.”

  “I do not like bluestockings,” he warned her.

  Wendy met his eyes firmly. “You know, it must be nice to have such a high opinion of yourself that you know everything anyone does is for your benefit! Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but I-don’t care what you like or dislike.”

  Lord Richard drew himself up to his full height. His eyes flashed and his mouth was held tight. “Nevertheless, Miss Pratt, you will oblige me by leaving the library at once! I have need of it in the mornings and you are intruding. It will be at your disposal at two o’clock.”

  Without answering, Wendy turned and reshelved her book. She then stared at the Earl pointedly until he stepped aside to let her pass. Then she calmly hobbled toward the library door. As she reached it, his voice halted her for a moment. “Wendy, the books in your room are the only sort not kept in the library.”

  Without looking back, she nodded, then continued to her room. To Wendy’s relief, the room had already been tidied and she knew she need not fear the maid’s intrusion. Under normal circumstances, Wendy would have begun pacing. With crutches, that was impractical. Instead, she stood by the window and gloomily contemplated the garden.

  How she wished she could go exploring or riding! Perhaps this stay in a castle wasn’t going to be so wonderful after all. But then, had she been fit, she would not be here at all. At last, with a sigh, she pulled a novel from the bookcase and settled into a comfortable chair to read. She was still reading when lunch arrived.

  It was after two when she proceeded to the library. It was deserted. Lord Richard was avoiding her again, it seemed. Wendy found that amusing and she was actually smiling as she pulled the desired volume from the shelf. And again she was deaf to the sound of footsteps. When she turned, it was to find Dr. Witler watching her.

  “Hello.” he grinned. “Richard told me you were in here. How are you feeling?”

  Wendy grinned in response. “Fine. Except when I’m careless and hit something with my foot.”

  “You look better,” the doctor said with open admiration. “Now that I’ve seen you tidied up, I understand why Richard wants to keep you here. Well, let me have a look at the foot.”

  Wendy sat down in the nearest chair and Roger knelt to work. He slipped off the superfluous sandal and unwound the bandage. He soon satisfied himself that nothing had changed.

  He looked up impishly. “How does it feel to have a man at your feet?” Then, more professionally, he said, “Watch as I wrap the bandage so that you can do it yourself later. You should rewrap the foot once a day.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Call me Roger.” He smiled.

  “All right, Roger. Call me Wendy.”

  Roger was getting to his feet when Lord Richard entered the room. “How is she?” he asked curtly.

  “The same,” Roger answered, just as curtly.

  Lord Richard nodded without surprise. “Will you stay until after tea? I haven’t seen you much lately.”

  “That’s because all your people are too healthy,” Roger teased. “Certainly I’ll stay for tea. Shall we go out in your garden? I’m sure Wendy could use the sun. It’s too nice a day to sit in a library!”

  Lord Richard nodded, but he was frowning and Wendy guessed he had not wanted her to join them. She reached for her crutches. “I’m still a little clumsy on them,” she apologized.

  “In that case, for once, don’t use them,” Roger said.

  He stepped forward and picked her up easily. Laughing, Wendy held onto her crutches with one hand, the other arm around Roger’s neck. “Lead the way, Richard,” the doctor said airily.

  They went out by way of the door in the billiard room. By the time they reached the lawn chairs in the garden, Roger was beginning to find Wendy heavy and he said so as he set her down. She laughed with him and could not help comparing Lord Richard’s aloof sarcasm with Roger’s genial manner.

  “I seem to be de trop,” Lord Richard observed.

  “Oh, no. Don’t go!” Roger said quickly.

  Richard shrugged and sat down. “How goes your practice?” he asked Roger.

  “Well enough. I’m busy all the time, as usual. There aren’t many people hereabouts,” he said for Wendy’s benefit, “but someone is always having a baby or getting hurt on a farm. And I am the only doctor within a thirty-mile radius. More important, I’m the only one with a full lab setup and X-ray equipment for a much greater area than that. Actually, Richard helped finance my clinic.”

  Wendy glanced at Lord Richard in surprise. Somehow, this seemed out of character. He was glancing the other way, saying, “Well, you and I were friends at Cambridge.”

  It was Roger’s turn to be surprised. “Yes, but that doesn’t explain Mrs. Gregg’s new sc-”

  “Roger, I am sure Miss Pratt is not interested,” Lord Richard interrupted with a commanding tone.

  “Yes, milord,” Roger said irreverently. Then he turned to Wendy. “No matter what he tries to tell you, he is not an ogre.” He turned back to Lord Richard. “Will you be taking my patient back to London with you tomorrow?”

  “No. She and I will both be staying here for the next two or three weeks until her foot is completely recovered. I’ve arranged to have the necessary papers sent to me and I can work as easily here as in London.”

  “But you hate staying here,” Roger pointed out.

  Lord Richard shrugged. “I feel the need for a change.”

  “Well,” Roger said, “if Wendy doesn’t mind, I’m just as pleased, for I shall have an excuse to drop by. What will you do to keep from being bored?” he asked her.

  “First, I’ve asked the publishers I work for to send me some material I was working on. I’m a translator. I hope they will. But I’m also having a friend send up some of my clothes and some needlepoint work I’m doing,” she explained.

  “The domestic sort, are you?” Roger asked.

  Wendy felt a moment’s irritation. “Why do men assume women fall into nice neat categories? I certainly don’t. I like to do needlepoint and sew and all the other sorts of things around a house. But that’s not all I want in life. I want to travel-and do interesting work.”

  “So you’re a career woman?” he suggested.

  “There you go again. Categories!” Wendy said in disgust. “I like my job. But there are other things I find very important. Like being loved and finding someone to share my life with.”

  “You sound quite decided,” Lord Richard drawled.

  “In a way I am. I’m not just parroting someone else’s ideas, if that’s what you mean. Everyone’s got to decide for themselves what matters and stick to it-and know when to compromise without losing what’s more important.”

  “Of course your fiance is in perfect accord?” Lord Richard asked with a smile.

  Wendy was aware that Roger was looking at her with some surprise. She was annoyed that Lord Richard had mentioned Kevin in front of him. On the other hand, what did it matter?

  She forced herself to smile sweetly at the Earl. “I don’t make a habit of discussing my private affairs with strangers. However, yes, Kevin and I are in accord on this matter.”

  She would not, she told herself firmly, admit to him that this was a question she felt uneasy about. Wendy was
sure that in time Kevin would come to understand. And only then would she agree to marry him. Well, only if he seemed close to understanding, anyway.

  Roger interrupted her thoughts. “And you’ve already set a date?”

  “No, we-we haven’t even told our families yet,” Wendy said uneasily. “There hasn’t been time to discuss when or even where.”

  Lord Richard was smiling broadly now. “If you will excuse me, I’ll give the orders for tea.”

  Wendy and Roger nodded and he strode away. Roger said, hesitating, “You don’t have to talk about it, of course, but it sounds to me as though you’re not very definite about this engagement.”

  She smiled wryly. “I’ll be honest, Roger. I’m not really engaged. Lord Richard was accusing me of hurting my foot to get into the castle so I could chase him. That made me angry, so I told him I was engaged so he needn’t worry. But please don’t tell him that. In fact, Kevin and I will probably be engaged soon, anyway.”

  Roger laughed. “Not to worry, I won’t betray you. Actually, I rather enjoy seeing him tangle with a woman who isn’t interested in him. The setdown will do him good!”

  “If,” said Wendy gloomily, “he ever accepts the fact that I’m not interested.”

  Roger laughed again. “Even if he doesn’t, he’ll find your behavior very puzzling. And that will shake his complacency.”

  Lord Richard, coming out of the castle, saw them laughing together. As he watched the sun glinting off Wendy’s chestnut hair and the green eyes dancing under long lashes, he had to admit that under other circumstances he might have found her attractive. She was tall and slender with long, shapely legs and a gently curved figure. And her laughter was pleasant as it floated out to him.

  How much easier it was to be a country doctor than a lord who always had to be on guard! Richard shook his head as though to shake off his mood and stepped forward. He even managed to smile as he said, “The two of you seem to be having a jolly time of it.”

  Roger smiled. “I always enjoy myself when I’m not working, and sometimes even when I am.”