She nodded and he helped her to her feet. Wendy couldn’t help comparing the feel of his arms to the feel of Tony’s arms. Even when you dislike a man, or are angry with him, a strong arm feels very comfortable. Lord Richard walked back to the castle with her, adjusting his pace to hers. As they walked, he told her about the orchard. Which Earl had started it (the sixth) and various romances which were said to have taken place there. It had become, he explained, the traditional place for marriage proposals.
Tony was already in the Regency Room when they reached it. He took in their greetings and noted their smiles. When he spoke, his voice was grim. “Charles has informed me that tea will be served immediately.”
Richard smiled mischievously. “Thank you, Tony. Wendy, please sit down.” As he said this, the Earl reached out and helped ease her into a chair. “There. Are you comfortable?”
“Quite, thank you,” she replied, rather taken aback at this solicitude.
“A cushion? No? Ali, Gwen, thank you,” Richard said as the maid entered with the tea tray.
As she prepared to pour, Wendy glanced at Tony. He seemed more amused than distressed. “Don’t overact, old fellow,” he said to Richard.
Richard simply smiled pleasantly and passed Tony a cup of tea. Then, leaning back, he said, “I think it time, Tony, that you were told a few facts of life-concerning Sylvia and myself. I told her long ago that I had no intention of ever marrying her. I said that I would enjoy escorting her to various functions, however, simply as a friend. And that I would understand if she chose not to squander her time on me. She agreed, with the proviso that she was free to try to make me change my mind. I agreed. And I admit that she has, upon occasion, made me consider marrying her. But I never told her that. And she was warned! So you see, my dear Tony, you have nothing to reproach me with.”
The accountant flushed. “I see. I suppose I am expected to compliment you on your sense of fair play?”
“If you wish.”
“Well, I shan’t.” Tony paused. “May I ask how long ago you told Sylvia all this?”
“About seven years, I should say.”
“I suppose you realize a number of chaps stopped dating Sylvia because they thought she was your property?”
Richard managed to answer coolly, “I never told them so.”
“Neither did Sylvia,” Tony said quietly. “It wasn’t necessary. Everyone just assumed it from your behavior.”
Now the irritation was clear in the Earl’s voice as he demanded, “Well? What am I to do about it? Marry her for the sake of honor? I’m afraid I consider marriage too serious for that.”
Tony sighed, “No, I don’t really expect you to marry her. And, for her sake, I’m glad of that. But I do think you should make a clean break with her if you have no intention of marrying her. Give her a chance to find someone else.”
“What? And hurt her feelings?”
“It would be kinder,” Tony answered quietly.
“Very well, Tony, I will. Well, why are you staring at me? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Wendy shivered, afraid of the undertones she didn’t quite understand. Above all, she could feel Tony’s distress and, inexplicably, she wished she could somehow reassure him. Then Lord Richard was speaking again. “I’m not angry at you, Tony. But you really must learn to curb your obscene concern over other people’s feelings. Look, I gather you are still on leave. Why don’t you stay here and relax for a few days? I’ve a new stallion in the stables that you’re welcome to try.”
Tony looked at his cup, then met Richard’s eyes. “All right,” he said evenly, “I will stay a bit. Thank you.,,
Richard smiled. “Good! More tea, Wendy?”
Perhaps Tony decided it was none of his affair; perhaps he no longer cared. But whatever the reason, he ceased to criticize Wendy, either to her face or to Lord Richard. He showed no emotion as she appeared that evening in the James Room wearing the green velvet dress. Nor did he react as Richard smiled at her charmingly, or complimented her on her appearance. He was attentive at dinner and, as everyone began to relax, it became obvious that Tony was a charming speaker. He was well read and thoroughly traveled. No one could have seemed less like the stereotype image of an accountant.
As they listened to a recording of Bach in the music room, and Wendy bent over her needlework, she tried again to sort out why she had not accepted Tony’s offer to drive her back to London. The novelty of living in a castle had worn off, so it wasn’t that. Nor the threat. Perhaps it was simply the quiet of the place; the fact that for once she had time to think.
It didn’t matter what Tony or Lord Richard thought of her presence, because once she left, she would never see them again. More important was what she was going to do with the rest of her life.
The next morning, Wendy quietly entered the library, afraid of disturbing the Earl. She needn’t have worried. Neither he nor Tony was there. In this unusually calm atmosphere, Wendy was able to work easily and by lunchtime had accomplished more than she had during the two previous days. Nor, to her surprise, was Wendy disturbed in the afternoon. It was as though both men were avoiding the library. Until teatime, at any rate. She first realized the hour when she heard a deep-throated laugh and, a moment later, Tony’s voice. Wendy turned as they entered the library.
Lord Richard waved a hand, negligently, in her direction. “Cheers! We agreed, Tony and I, that the library is a much more comfortable room than that blasted Regency Room. If a king-well, a prince, really-hadn’t used it, I’d have had it redecorated long ago!”
Wendy smiled in spite of herself at the Earl’s infectious good spirits. He seemed almost boyish as he picked up a chair and moved it close to two others. Even Tony had caught the mood. “Worked hard, today, luv?” he asked Wendy.
She nodded. “And even managed to get something done!”
“That’s right,” Richard said approvingly, “a sensible girl. But now you’ve surely time for a break.”
“And I should say I’ve timed my visit perfectly!” came a voice from the doorway.
“Roger, hello!” Tony said. “I haven’t seen you in some time.”
“Been busy,” was the easy reply. “How is my patient?”
The doctor waited while Wendy moved to an armchair. Then he unwrapped the bandage, smiling. “Well, I think you can go off crutches today. You’ll have to use a cane for a while, and be careful, but it’s better than crutches. Wait just a moment.” Roger went out to the hallway and returned, a moment later, with a cane. “Didn’t want to raise your hopes before I examined the foot.”
“Stay for tea?” Lord Richard asked unnecessarily.
As Roger nodded, Tony added another armchair to the circle. The servants had apparently guessed the doctor’s intentions, for when Gwen brought the tea tray, it contained four cups. As soon as Gwen had left the room, Wendy asked, as she poured the tea, “And how soon would you say I could walk without a cane?” “A few weeks.”
“Well, how soon could I travel?”
Roger glanced at Richard. “Oh, I should say anytime, so long as you were careful.”
Lord Richard cleared his throat and spoke without apparent haste. “Nevertheless, I think, Wendy, you will be here for some while longer.”
Tony stiffened and Wendy hesitated. She wasn’t sure of Lord Richard’s motives, but so long as he was willing for her to stay, she felt as though she needed the refuge. Let Tony think what he would.
A silence fell over the group and, to cover it, Roger began to ask Tony about London and various mutual friends. Wendy was grateful for the opportunity to just lean back and observe. Roger was clearly no simple country doctor. And it seemed hard to remember why this boyish, laughing fellow, Tony, had ever seemed inimical to her. As for the Earl of Loftsbury, he, too, seemed very human at the moment. The talk of London reminded Wendy that she had better send Mrs. Aylses a check for the next month’s rent.
When she turned her attention back to the men, they were discussing British
politics. Sometime later, Roger announced that it was time for him to leave. As Lord Richard walked the doctor to his car, Tony remained behind with Wendy. His dark eyes regarded her steadily and, although uneasy, she met his gaze squarely. He decided, however, not to ask her embarrassing questions. Instead, he asked, “How does your family feel about you coming to England?”
“My father would never oppose me on any matter I felt strongly about,” she replied casually. “You see, he trusts my judgment. Since my mother is dead, and I have no siblings, there’s no one else to care.”
“Why did you come?”
She hesitated, aware that Tony was genuinely interested. “I suppose it was my mother. I never knew her very well. When I was little, she was too wrapped up in my father to give enough time to me. And she died when I was ten. But I remember hearing about her English home and family. The ones who disowned her. But there are so many gaps; so many things no one could tell me. So I came to England, hoping to learn, hoping I would find a way to know my mother.”
“It was the Hewitts who disowned her, wasn’t it?” Tony asked. When she nodded, he said gently, “They rather regret it, you know.”
“Oh, really? I suppose they talk about it all the time,” she said sarcastically.
He shook his head and again spoke gently. “We do move in the same circles, the Hewitts and I.And when I mentioned to Margery Hewitt that I had met you, she was quite intrigued. Said the family made fools of themselves over your mother’s marriage and often wished they could have made amends. I fancy even that she would enjoy meeting you.”
Wendy shrugged, pretending a disinterest she did not feel. “Perhaps when I return to London, I may call on them.”
“They might even be willing to sponsor you,” he said hesitantly.
“I doubt it!” she retorted. “Besides, that would be totally unnecessary and undesired.”
Tony was gazing at her, puzzled, about to answer, when Richard returned. “Tony,” he said cheerfully, “up for a gallop?”
With forced enthusiasm, Tony laughed, “Quite!”
After they had left, Wendy eased herself to her feet and hobbled over to her desk. She had work to do, even if no one else did!
Lord Richard’s good mood persisted. Over dinner, as they discussed castles, he told her that if she felt she could manage the stairs, she should feel free to wander about Trondelaine. “But be careful,” he added. “I shouldn’t care to find you’ve had another accident.”
Ignoring Tony’s look of disapproval, she grinned. “I’ll be careful. And thank you, Lord Richard. I’ve always found castles fascinating.”
It wasn’t clear what Tony muttered in response to Wendy’s words.
Friday morning, Wendy found herself feeling restless over breakfast. It was rainy and she was definitely not in the mood to work. Glancing at the window, she sighed. The Earl was probably already at work in the library, himself, and likely to be in a bad mood since he’d have had to forgo his morning ride. On impulse, she decided to spend the next few hours exploring. She had yet to take advantage of Lord Richard’s offer to look about the castle.
Since she was familiar with the ground floor by now, Wendy decided to start upstairs. As she reached the top of the flight near the library, Wendy paused to orient herself. To the right were the master bedrooms, which she must not intrude upon. On her left was a guest room, straight ahead the lackey seat. She noted that it was far too deep for anyone to sit upon comfortably. But then, if the lackeys had been comfortable, they might have fallen asleep. Ahead and slightly to the left was a hallway that she recalled very well. On one side were more guest rooms. On the other, the right side, was first a closet and then the portrait gallery. She decided to look again at the pictures.
The Pellens were definitely survivors, she thought as she looked at each portrait in turn. Not harsh or evil, simply determined to survive. Friendships, acts of charity, betrothals; all would be undertaken with an eye to utility. Had any of the Pellens, male or female, ever been allowed to marry for love alone? Probably not. Although the present Earl might… if he ever fell in love. His wife would look strange among the other women who had married into the family, for they seemed arrogant and forceful. As ready to fight for what they wanted as any of the Earls. Here and there, however, were portraits of women meek and frightened. And Wendy wondered what sort of hell their lives had been.
After the portrait gallery, Wendy revisited the tapestry and weaving rooms. But these held less fascination for her than the rooms she had never seen. She closed the door of the weaving room behind her and stepped through the curtain that separated the children’s wing from the rest of the floor. To her left was a short corridor, at the end of which was another lackey seat. One wall of the corridor was the wall of the weaving room. The other side held three small rooms, presumably children’s rooms. Straight ahead of Wendy were the stairs that led to the great hall. To the right was another curtain.
She peeked into the three rooms on her left and found them sparsely furnished. Disappointed, she stepped through the other curtain. First on her right was a linen closet, then a small dining room. The furniture here was solid but well worn. Across the hall were three more small bedrooms, then a larger one. The larger one had probably belonged to a governess. Opposite the governess’s room and next to the dining room was a narrow set of stairs.
Wendy supposed they went down to the kitchen, but they also went up. As far as Wendy had seen, this was the only staircase which did go up from the second floor. She promised herself to investigate it shortly. First she looked into the rooms that ended the hall. These were larger than any of the other rooms in the children’s section. One had obviously been the nursery and still held toys.
The other looked like a schoolroom. Books lined various shelves about the room. All were textbooks or good children’s classics. Here, again, there were toys about the room. The obligatory fireplaces were well protected. Both looked as though they had been happy rooms.
Returning to the hallway, Wendy slowly started up the stairs. They were narrow and there was no light except from two small windows. The stairs ended in an open space in the garret. To the right, above the nursery and schoolroom and extending around above the governess’s room, was a sort of dormitory.
It was still furnished with a row of cots. Beside each cot was a small stand with washbasin and pitcher. At the foot of each cot were wooden boxes, presumably for personal possessions. And in a far corner stood three or four chamber pots. Chintz curtains, now faded and worn, convinced her this room had been for the female servants. That and the bolt on the door to the dormer room.
Outside the room, and opposite the stairway, was a storage area. Then, beyond this, was another dormitory room, running along the outer wall. It, too, held cots, stands, basins, and boxes. But the overall effect was somehow starker and more masculine. There were no curtains. The rest of the garret was used for storage. There were bins that once must have held food, and there were boxes of household goods, and endless trunks, most of which were securely latched.
One or two stood open, spilling silk petticoats or satin broadcoats over the edge. The materials were stiff with age and coated with a thick layer of dust. Wendy held a silver gown against herself and concluded that the Pellen women had been more delicate creatures than herself. A velvet broadcoat fit somewhat better and Wendy executed a bow to an imaginary lady.
With a sigh, sometime later, she abandoned the trunks and continued through the garret, looking for another staircase down. Her expectations were exceeded, however, when she found an odd doorway standing open in the artificial wall that lined the outer side of the corridor above the master bedrooms. It seemed to Wendy that if the door were closed, it would be all but invisible. And the door concealed stairs that led downward.
Unable to resist temptation, she started down carefully. For this staircase, there was no light at all, as it lacked any windows. At the base of the stairs, Wendy found herself still in darkness. She felt the wa
ll ahead of her, carefully, for a doorknob. There was none, or indeed anything which might have resembled a catch. Wendy began to be worried. She could, of course, return up the stairs and descend by the others, but her foot was beginning to hurt and she felt rather tired.
She put out her free hand to lean against the wall and felt a hook of some sort. Pulling it-isn’t that what one always does in such circumstances?-she was relieved to see the wall ahead of her slide open. She stepped forward into the lighted room… and face to face with Lord Richard and Tony.
For a moment, there was shocked silence. With a sickening feeling Wendy realized she was in a bedroom, and Lord Richard was drawling, “Really, Wendy, this is not the time of day for that sort of thing. I certainly wasn’t expecting you before evening. And, if you wish to have a seductive rendezvous, you really ought to wash the dirt off your nose.”
For the first time, Wendy realized the Earl was wearing a dressing gown and she blushed. It somehow made her position seem even more indelicate. Lord Richard was in a devilish mood, for he turned to Tony and said, “Naturally, she will say she was merely exploring. But we know she was simply impatient to see me privately. Well, old friend, now you know my secret! But Wendy, truly you needn’t have taken such elaborate precautions.”
Tony seemed no more amused than Wendy. He looked at her, as she stood dazed, and said, “You look a bit tired, Wendy. Perhaps you ought to sit down.”
Lord Richard frowned. “You have been rather rough on that foot this morning,” he said to her. “Come, I’ll carry you downstairs.”
“No-no, I’m all right!” she said hastily. “I can manage by myself.”
“What? And deprive me of the pleasure of having you in my arms?” the Earl demanded. “You needn’t be embarrassed about Tony. He understands perfectly.”
Before she could protest further, the Earl scooped Wendy up and, opening the door with his foot, started toward the stairs. Tony watched, his face grim. As soon as they were out of the room, Wendy demanded, “What is this nonsense? I really was exploring and I am capable of managing by myself.”
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