Amethyst (5 page)

"I love you too, Papa," she said.

IT WAS A LONG
time before she bent to pick up the ring, an even longer time before Robert came in to find her staring at it.

He stood over her. "You still working on that damned signet?"

She looked up at him, but couldn't find the energy to summon as much as annoyance.

"It's finished," she said. "I'll have it delivered in the morning."

"COLIN! DOWN
here!"

From along the ridge where he and nine others were grappling with a huge block of limestone, Colin glanced to the path below to see his brothers climbing from the carriage and Kendra leaning halfway out the window, waving wildly.

"You're early," he called a minute later, heading down the rise. He wiped gritty palms on his linen breeches, his shirt billowing in the light wind that buffeted across Greystone's quarry.

"Early?" His older brother Jason laughed, pointing at the sky.

Colin glanced straight up and then west to where the sun was nearly setting. "Sorry." He shrugged. "I've been about since six this morn. In the woods, the fields…I reckon I lost track of the time."

"I reckon you lost your hat as well?" Kendra fixed him with a half-serious frown of reproach. "Look at you, brown as a gypsy!"

With the back of one hand, he wiped at the sweat on his forehead. "Have you come to see the renovations, or to harp on my appearance?"

"To harp on your appearance," Kendra's twin, Ford, answered for her. "But I've a curiosity to see your new kitchen. Pipes and taps…do they work due to a siphon effect, or is it simple gravity? In Isaac Newton's new paper, he says—"

"Od's fish—how the hell should I know? I'm a farmer, not a bloody scientist. They work because the mason put them in right."

"What
I
want to know"—Jason patted his stomach meaningfully—"is whether we'll find food in this kitchen."

"Hell, yes." Colin laughed. "Benchley's been slaving since dawn, I expect. Go on up to the castle, and I'll follow along shortly. Four quarrymen are down with the ague, and we've two more slabs to bring up."

"GOD, IT'S QUIET
here." Kendra paused before climbing from the carriage into Greystone's little courtyard. "Listen." A few low birdcalls, distant bleating from the fields, a faint rustle from the smattering of trees that stood sentinel around the tiny circular drive. "It sounds like no one's home."

"No one
is
home," Jason reminded her. "Colin has only Benchley for company until the renovations are further along, and he's likely in the kitchen."

"Let's go see the kitchen." Ford urged them along. "Those pipes—"

"That food—"

"Those Chase stomachs!" Kendra laughed as they walked toward the door to Greystone's modest living quarters. "I cannot say I'm surprised that Colin restored the kitchen first."

"A man's got to eat," Ford declared.

"I could feed an entire village on what you three pack away in a day. Look…the door is ajar." Her hand on the latch, she stopped and turned back to watch their carriage pass under the barbican gate, the driver heading out to Colin's stables. "And the drawbridge is down."

Jason's green eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter. "It probably hasn't been up in a hundred years. What would be the point? There's naught in this old place of interest to anyone."

"Something doesn't feel right."

"There she goes, leaping to conclusions again." Ford pushed the door open and stepped inside the plain, square entry. "Good Lord, what is that on the floor?"

"What?" Kendra took a step back.

"Ouch!" Jason wrenched his foot from under hers. "Why do you insist on wearing those blasted high heels?" He shouldered his way past the twins. "Something spilled, is all."

Leaning down to touch one of the dark splotches, he rubbed the substance between his fingers, then sniffed and turned back to them slowly.

"It's blood."

"Blood?" Kendra squeaked.

"Don't get overwrought." Jason grinned. "I'd wager it's just one of Colin's practical jokes."

Kendra took another step back. "Real blood a joke?"

Ford put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Perhaps Benchley butchered something outside and failed to notice it dripping when he brought it through here. Look, the drops trail under the door to the great hall, toward the kitchen. I wonder what it is? I'm hoping for suckling pig."

The great hall's door was ajar as well. Jason led the way into the gutted, roofless chamber, its pitted stone floor still scattered with rusted cannonballs from Cromwell's last siege.

"How couldn't he have noticed it dripping?" Kendra's voice was a whisper, her gaze riveted to the bloody trail. "It was pumping out here, from the looks of it." She followed her brothers, stepping carefully. "A suckling pig!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "More like a cow, I'll warrant you. I've never seen so much—"

"The latch…" At the far end of the hall, Jason had reached for the door, then jerked back his hand. "It's covered in blood as well."

Kendra bit her lip. "Maybe we ought to wait for Colin."

"Don't be a goose." Jason kicked at the door with one booted foot, and it gave, swinging open with a prolonged creak.

They traversed the short corridor, following meandering bloody footprints. "I don't like this," Kendra muttered, gingerly picking her way past the dark red marks.

They paused at the entrance to the kitchen. "Benchley?" Ford ran a shaky hand through his wavy brown hair. "Benchley, are you here, man?"

"It appears not," Jason said unnecessarily.

Kendra pointed to one of the two sunken wells. "Oh, my God."

Ford glared at her. "What now?"

"Do you not hear the dripping?"

"Dripping?" Jason started toward the well, then suddenly flung out an arm. "Stay back!"

"What?" Kendra breathed. "What is it?"

"This is no joke. Ford, fetch Colin
now
!"

Despite Jason's warning, Kendra rushed forward, then let out an earsplitting scream before whirling to muffle her face against his chest.

"He's dead, he's dead, he's dead," she panted. "Benchley's dead. Oh, my God, Benchley's dead!"

Instead of fetching Colin, Ford threw his arms around them both, his breathing labored though he'd failed to utter a sound.

Squished between her brothers, Kendra turned her head and cracked an eye open, just to make sure. Bent at the waist over the crossbar that spanned the well, Colin's manservant dangled, his clothes streaked with red. More blood dripped from the sopping mass of his prematurely gray hair, echoing as it plopped into the water far below.

At the grisly sight she let out a whimper and promptly reburied her face.

Until, with an unnerving suddenness, mad laughter burst out behind them.

COLIN'S SIBLINGS STARED,
dumbstruck, as he strode in and leaned over the well.

A plaintive voice resonated from the depths. "My back is killing me. Help me out of here, I beg you."

Kendra blinked. The color rushed back to her cheeks. "You lout! That was mean."

"But a good one," Ford admitted with a sheepish chuckle. "You did yourself proud, Colin."

"A devil of a mess, but worth it," Colin agreed cheerfully. He reached down to hoist Benchley up. "If you could only have seen your faces."

The manservant's shirt was plastered to his short, wiry form. "I'll be going to clean off now," he said with the greatest of dignity. Back ramrod straight, he thrust his beakish nose into the air and strutted from the room.

"Hurry back!" Jason called. "We're fair starving!"

The siblings waited until Benchley was out of earshot before bursting into peals of laughter.

Jason leaned both hands against the large, scrubbed wooden worktable, his long black hair falling forward to hide his face. "I cannot credit that I fell for it," he mused. "I even said at first…" He looked up at Colin. "By God, but your betrothed will be sorry she missed this one."

"Bosh!" Kendra waved a hand. "She would say it was a childish waste of time."

Ford sniffed at a covered platter. "Suckling pig," he mumbled, hiding a smile as he made his way over to one of the basins and reached for a bronze tap.

Her eyes sparkling with mischief, Kendra turned to Colin. "Have you and Lady Priscilla Snobs set the date?"

"Lady Priscilla
Hobbs
and I have yet to decide." Colin scanned the shelves, looking for something he could use to clean up. "She won't move to Greystone in its present condition."

"Gravity," Ford declared, opening the tap, then shutting it again. With obvious glee, he repeated the motion. "Definitely gravity."

Kendra nodded absently and turned back to Colin. "Priscilla could live at Cainewood with us."

"Not likely. This family is a bit too, uh, high-spirited for Priscilla." He dropped a wad of rags on the biggest puddle of pig blood, poking at it with one booted foot. "She's an only child, you know—used to peace and quiet."

"She's a snob, you mean. Otherwise—"

"Kendra!" Jason's leaf-green eyes glared into his sister's lighter ones. "Lady Priscilla is a perfectly nice woman. More important to Colin, though, she's pretty, titled, and the only heir to an enormous fortune. If it takes her a while to get used to us, we'll just have to put up with it." He turned to Colin. "How are the rest of the renovations coming along?"

"Slowly." Colin looked up from where he crouched on the floor, mopping the last of the bloody trail. "My study and one bedchamber are finished, enough for Benchley and me to stay here and work. But for Priscilla…"

Raising a hand to his narrow black mustache, Jason stroked one side then the other. "I imagine Priscilla requires a small army of servants, as well as a proper suite and a couple of receiving rooms, at the very least." He shot Kendra a warning glance. "On the other hand, she's not going to wait for the entire castle to be remodeled, is she?"

Colin shook his head vehemently. "God's blood, no." An incredible amount of work lay ahead; the castle had stood vacant since '43 when the Roundheads laid the great hall in ruins. "I'll warrant we'll see another quarter century before it's fully restored."