The Earl gave a sigh of relief. “Certain?”
“Quite. Sorry to alarm you, but one mustn’t take unnecessary risks.” The smile disappeared. “I gather I’ve caused you some trouble, Richard. I’m sorry.”
The Earl shook his head impatiently. “Not your fault. It would have happened soon enough, anyway.”
“Good. Well, I must attend to my other patients. I shall see you in about a week,” the doctor said cheerfully.
The drive back to the castle was a silent one and Wendy felt some trepidation. But all was peaceful as they mounted the steps. Charles greeted them with evident relief. “Lord Richard, the other two guests have left. I felt it would be best, however, to leave those two chambers as they are until tomorrow. Unless additional guests are anticipated?”
“Very good, Charles. Tea?”
“It will be ready quite shortly, sir. Shall I have it served in the Regency Room?”
“Good Heavens, no! I can barely tolerate the room when we have guests!” Richard said emphatically. “Serve it in the library. Did Lady Sylvia or Mr. Wellscourt leave any messages?”
“Yes, sir. You will find them on your desk.”
“Thank you, Charles. That will be all.” As Richard started down the hall, Wendy following, he said, “I hope you don’t intend to work this afternoon. I should much prefer a game of chess.”
“All right,” Wendy agreed, with a sense of unreality. “Frankly, I would enjoy the change from translating.”
As they entered the library, he waved her into a seat as he picked up Sylvia’s note. At first, as he read, Richard seemed amused. But toward the end, his eyebrows drew close together and he frowned. In a puzzled voice, he said to Wendy, “Did you find an emerald bracelet in your room?” At her look of amazement, he smiled slightly. “It seems Lady Sylvia lost her bracelet somewhere in the castle and thinks it may have been in your room. Something about …when she had a talk with you there?”
“I remember the discussion,” Wendy said wryly, “and even that she was wearing an emerald bracelet. But I haven’t seen it since-either in my room or elsewhere.”
The Earl nodded as though satisfied. “She’s rather careless at times, and it could be anywhere. I’ll warn the maids to look for it when they do her room tomorrow.”
He left the library, returning shortly with the chess table. A moment later, Gwen brought the tea tray. As she poured, Wendy considered the strange man sitting opposite her. He seemed not at all disturbed by Lady Sylvia’s disappearance. Perhaps even relieved. Was that possible? It seemed out of character for him to sit here and play chess with her and Wendy began to wonder whether it boded good or bad for her. It just wasn’t natural.
The chess game stretched to two, and afterward they continued to talk quietly until it was time for Wendy to take dinner in her room. Alone, she pondered Lord Richard’s strange behavior again. In some ways he seemed a little like Kevin and she wondered if Kevin would have accepted her disappearance as quietly as Richard accepted Sylvia’s. But he had, hadn’t he? There had been one letter from Kevin. Why only one? She had written him twice since then. Was he angry? Busy? Uncaring? The last possibility disturbed her most of all. With Kevin one was never quite certain where one stood, despite all his protestations.
For a brief moment, Wendy considered the possibility someone was intercepting Kevin’s letters. Then she dismissed the notion as absurd. Lord Richard might steam them open and read them, but he would have no reason not to pass them on to her afterward.
Wendy started another letter to Kevin, but she kept stopping again and again. Eventually, however, the task was done. It was a gentle, reassuring letter, one calculated to remind Kevin of his protective instincts. She was about to prepare for bed when there was a knock at the door. “Come in!” she called.
It was Lord Richard. He seemed hesitant. “I came to say good evening. And also to tell you not to mind Lady Sylvia. She’s rather spoiled, I’m afraid.”
Wendy smiled wryly. “I’m only sorry if I caused trouble for you. But I’m glad you’ve decided I’m harmless, after all.”
That was a mistake. Richard’s face hardened and his voice was curt. “Don’t deceive yourself, Miss Pratt. I still am not convinced you are what you claim to be. Good night.”
Then he was gone before she could reply. Nor, in truth, could she have thought of anything to say if he had stayed. Slowly, miserably, she undressed. When she could finally sleep, her dreams were chaotic and disturbing. She was with Kevin and he was holding her. Then, suddenly, he was laughing at her. The face blurred and became Lord Richard. He laughed louder and then, inexplicably, he reached out and pulled her to him. Just as he kissed her, Wendy woke, bathed in sweat.
Shivering, Wendy reached for the light and switched it on. As she closed her eyes and gripped the sheet, she wished she had a cigarette to smoke. Maybe that would have calmed her. Wasn’t that what women always did in novels when they were nervous? In an effort to calm herself, Wendy tried to analyze just why the dream had upset her so much. Part of it was easy. She had come to look upon Kevin as secure and loving and representing all the things her own home life had never been. It was at least partly an illusion, of course. She’d always known that. But it was disturbing to have it so graphically portrayed in a dream. And yet, she had to admit to herself, that part of it disturbed her less than Lord Richard’s mocking laughter-or his kiss.
Breakfast was on time again in the morning, and Wendy gave Gwen a grateful smile. Gwen returned it, saying, “Well, Miss, things are certainly quieter now that the other guests have gone. Not that we don’t always like to see his lordship’s friends,” she added hastily.
Gwen glanced at Wendy oddly, and for a moment the American girl wondered how much gossip there had been over Lady Sylvia’s departure
Soon after, Wendy approached the library. Lord Richard was already at his desk. He glanced up as she entered, and nodded curtly, saying, “I haven’t accomplished any work in the last week and now I’ve got to cope with it all. So please work quietly.”
Wendy dared not speak, but simply nodded and sat at her desk. Without Tony’s disturbing presence, she found it very easy to slip into her work. It was a particularly interesting portion of the text and she was oblivious to time-and to the Earl’s gaze as it occasionally rested on her.
It was sometime that afternoon, long after lunch, that Wendy realized he was gone. She set down her pen, suddenly restless, and clumsily got to her feet. On one wall hung a hand-drawn map of the estate. Not for the first time, Wendy studied it. The sketch showed the castle and the ruined tower and the chapel, as well as the orchards and stables and forests. And scattered about the estate were more ruins. There were also gardens, some of which she was certain no longer existed. But then, this map looked rather old.
Peering at one corner, she was able to read the initials R. P. and the date: 1836. Next to this was a floor plan of the house showing the ground floor, first floor, and garret. To her surprise, Wendy realized that the marking indicated that dormitory rooms had been set up in the attic for the servants. The ceiling must be higher than it looks from the outside, she thought. She turned back to the map of the estate. She wondered what it would feel like to be master of such a magnificent holding. Or mistress. It all sounded romantic and wonderful. Particularly if one were married to a handsome earl. Wendy could picture the ladies of bygone days in their silks and satins and velvets dancing in the great hall, entertaining in the drawing rooms. But somehow, she was skeptical. It all seemed too perfect and Wendy distrusted perfection.
With a sigh, she turned back to her desk only to find Lord Richard watching her. He nodded toward the map behind her. “Yes, there have been a few changes since then. Though none as significant as the hallways that were added not long before the plan was drawn.”
“Water? Electricity?” Wendy suggested.
He hesitated. “As important, yes. But in terms of labor involved, the hallways were a greater change. And, frankly, there are st
ill sections of this castle lacking the modern conveniences. And as it is, in winter we generally freeze as the central heating isn’t worth a tinker’s damn. When I’m here, I always have fires in every room I use, as well as the heating. Then it’s bearable. What my ancestors did, I’ve no notion. They must have been hardier souls than we are today.”
Wendy smiled inwardly, hearing her father’s mother say the same words, only talking about pioneers. The woman had always disapproved of aristocracy, but somehow Wendy felt she might have understood Lord Richard. Despite his words, he did not seem the type to be done in by a harsh winter. He would always survive somehow.
She spoke seriously. “But all along, compared to everyone else, the Earls were better off-better clothed, better sheltered, better fed.”
Richard laughed. “True. But I never said I wanted to be a peasant, either.”
They were interrupted by the phone. Lord Richard answered it. “Hello. Who? Yes, just a moment. For you,” he said, holding out the phone to Wendy.
He made no move to leave, so taking the phone, she resolutely turned her back on him. “Hello? Kevin, darling! How are you?”
“Fine, luv,” was the casual reply. “But a little impatient. When do I see you again?”
Conscious of a steady gaze from behind, Wendy replied, a little breathlessly, “I-I’m not sure, Kevin. Probably in about two weeks. Maybe less.”
There was a pause, then, “Don’t you want to come home, luv?”
“Of course I do, Kevin, but-”
Another pause. “I know. You have to consider the Earl, don’t you? And he is rather handsome-enough to make you not mind staying.”
Wendy’s reply was brusque. “You’re being very obnoxious, Kevin. You know nothing about it. Or the Earl.”
The voice was soft. “Yes, I do, luv. I saw him last night. I took the tour you were on. In fact, I’m calling from a little inn near-”
Involuntarily, Wendy glanced back at Lord Richard. He was still there, arms folded, watching her grimly. She flushed and turned quickly away, catching Kevin’s voice asking, “Are you still there, luv?”
“Yes, yes, I’m here.” Anger flashed over her. “Kevin, why did you come down to spy on me?”
“Luv, you know me. I was only concerned about you. Frankly, this Earl has a bit of a reputation, you know.”
Wendy visibly relaxed, but was cross as she said, “Well, all right. But I am okay. All I need are some letters from you to cheer me up until I see you again in London.”
“Right-o, luv, if that’s your wish. Just hurry back. I miss you.”
Slowly, Wendy replaced the receiver. Lord Richard cleared his throat. “I surmise that your-er-fiance has been prowling around the castle?”
Her chin came up. “No, he was not! He simply took the tour that includes this castle. He’s also interested in historical buildings.”
The Earl’s grin was sardonic. “So very interested that he wouldn’t accompany you on the tour, but now he takes it alone?”
Wendy lowered her eyes. “Well, he was worried about me.”
With a mocking glance, Richard walked to the door of the library. “You also worry me!” he said, then was gone.
Wendy’s fist came down on the desk. How she wished she could be off somewhere, alone, away from all men! Why hadn’t she simply told each the truth? She smiled wryly. Because it wouldn’t have accomplished anything except to make them angrier. And it would have been embarrassing for her.
Matters did not improve Sunday, or even Monday. Lord Richard continued his mocking manner, but he often seemed absentminded as well. Wendy found herself growing irritable. There was, of course, no letter from Kevin, or even another phone call. In fact, the only letter had been from her boss reminding her that while Lord Pellen had explained she could not return to London yet, she was to remember she was not on vacation. By the time she did return, in a week or two, she was to have finished a certain number of pages of translating. And because she was behind, Wendy grew more irritable. Not at her boss, because Jim was generally pretty understanding. But at whoever, higher up, was pushing Jim.
Tuesday, Wendy was late reaching the library and Lord Richard did not even look up as she entered. As quietly as she could, she hobbled to her desk and sat down. It was some time later that Lord Richard’s voice cut across her thoughts. “Very well, Miss Pratt! If you can’t work more quietly, I suppose I shall have to go somewhere else!”
“Please don’t bother. I can’t work at the moment, anyway. I’ll leave you in peace.”
Under his silent, angry, startled gaze, she reached for her crutches. She did not stop when she reached her room, but went past it, through the door to the lawn. It was absurd to be so upset by the Earl! He was rude and ill-bred. But she was upset. She started toward the garden and changed her mind. The servants would see her from the kitchen if she went there. Wendy turned the other way. A few minutes later, she found herself standing at the base of the ruined tower. She sat down on one of the large stones there. Somehow, on a sunny morning, it didn’t look at all sinister. “Troublemaker!” she said softly.
Not for the first time, Wendy indulged in fantasies of where she would be right now if she hadn’t climbed those stairs. She imagined herself in various places. In most of them she was accompanied by Kevin. And no bad-tempered earls. How on earth was she going to get her work done, anyway? After he went to sleep at night? In her room? Perhaps Gwen could help her carry everything to her room. Unfortunately, then she would be unable to use Lord Richard’s dictionary. Still, Kevin had sent hers and it would have to do.
“You seem very serious,” a nearby voice said.
She looked up, startled. “Tony!” Then, gloomily, she said, “I was wishing I were back in London!”
He nodded knowingly and sat on the grass. Wendy was uncomfortably aware of his closeness. He went on, conversationally, “Richard in a nasty mood?” She nodded and he said, “You’ll pardon me if I don’t seem very sympathetic. After all, you could go back to London. No, don’t say you have to be here. I stopped by your office and I know they didn’t send you here. You came on a tour, hurt your foot, and stayed. Clever little witch, aren’t you? I’m surprised Richard fell for it.
Wendy felt her face flaming. Somehow, it seemed worse when the words were spoken so emotionlessly. “And you’ve come to warn the Earl, right?” she demanded. “What do you think I’m after? Richard? Money?”
He returned her gaze coolly. “Perhaps money. Richard certainly.”
Wendy barely retained her temper. “It may interest you to know I happen to be engaged!”
“Oh, yes, a Kevin somebody-or-other.” The voice was mocking. “I saw him yesterday. He didn’t know the two of you were engaged.”
Wendy began to feel ill. As though not wanting to press her too hard, Tony changed the subject. “Is this where it happened?” he asked. “Your accident, I mean.”
“Yes. Yes, it was inside, on the stairs.”
“What were you doing there? Surely you were warned not to explore the old thing?” She hesitated, and he added, “Unless you were staging an accident, of course.”
“It wasn’t staged! Look, if I tell you, will you promise not to tell Lord Richard?” she asked.
“Maybe.”
“Well, there were some children playing in the tower and one of them screamed. I ran up the stairs to see what was wrong and fell.”
Tony looked at her oddly. “And what was wrong?”
“Nothing. They were playing a game.” Her voice was slightly bitter.
“Assuming I believe that, why don’t you want Richard to know?” Tony seemed skeptical.
“Because I don’t want to get the children in trouble,” Wendy replied
Tony stared at her. “You think they should be allowed to play there?”
“I don’t think they will anymore.” Wendy tilted up her chin. “I think they had a bad scare and that’s enough to keep them away.”
His mouth was drawn in a hard line
. “You can be very convincing, can’t you? I almost find myself believing you. But I’ve seen the other side of you first.”
Wendy turned her head away. There was really no way to refute Tony. His voice, when it came, was surprisingly soft. “Why don’t you go home to London. You may not be engaged to this Kevin, but he does seem rather serious about you. You don’t really want to be the wife of an earl, do you?”
Wendy hesitated, trying to understand her reluctance to go. It wasn’t Lord Richard’s threat; that didn’t seem real enough. It was something else, something she didn’t even understand herself. As she wavered, Tony said sadly, “Is money that important to you?”
Wendy felt her eyes filling with tears. Clumsily, she groped for her crutches and tried to rise. Immediately, Tony’s strong arms were helping her. “Go away!” she spat at him.
He took her chin in one hand. “Not yet. It seems Richard needs looking after.” He paused, then released her. “You know, if he did marry you, you would hate it as much as he would.”
Tony turned and strode away. Wendy watched him disappear into the castle. Then she slowly made her way to the back of the castle and past it to the orchards. She found a bench beneath one of the apple trees and closed her eyes. Eventually, she was calm again.
It was almost teatime when Richard found her. “Wendy?” he said quietly.
She looked up quickly. “Lord Richard!”
He grinned wryly. “I thought I’d best warn you tea will be served soon. You caused a bit of a stir missing lunch, you know.”
She looked away. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the time and I wasn’t hungry.”
“And you were angry at me?” he suggested.
Wendy regarded him warily. Why was he being so considerate? “And at Tony,” she added.
He frowned. “I’m a bit angry at him, myself. I say, shall we have some fun with him? Tease him a bit?” He paused. “Wendy, I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to chase you out of the library. Or, rather, I did, but I don’t anymore. You are free to work in the library any time you wish. Now, shall we go back for tea?”
Trondelaine Castle Page 9