Authors: Blackthorne
Ruth Langan (4 page)
Sinking into a chair, she pressed her hands to her cheeks and thought about all that she had seen and heard. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut to blot out the fears that seemed to be closing in on her. She would rest for a moment, before pulling herself together for the task ahead.
It was her last coherent thought as she gave in once more to the need to sleep.
The sound that awakened Olivia was unlike anything she had ever heard. A long piercing scream that chilled her blood and had her leaping to her feet in alarm. Surely this sound was not made by a human. A wild animal perhaps. Caught in a trap and about to give up its life
But it was coming from inside the house. Somewhere along these very halls. That realization had the hairs at her nape prickling.
Olivia raced across the room and tore open the door. The sound was louder now, a long thin wail that went on and on until she was forced to cover her ears.
Without giving thought to what she was doing, she scurried along the hall until she came to the door of the man she had seen huddled in a chair.
The door was open, and Olivia could see Lord Stamford and a woman, her nightclothes in disarray, standing on either side of a bed. At the foot of the bed was a young, red-haired servant.
Lord Stamford bent down and gathered the blanketed figure of his brother in his arms while the woman held a cup to his lips.
“Do as Mistress Thornton bids you, Bennett.” The voice coming from Lord Stamford’s mouth was unlike the one Olivia had heard earlier. Gone was the haughty tone of arrogance. Now the words were soft, soothing, as a mother might croon to her infant.
The wailing abruptly ceased. The cup was drained. And then there was only a childlike sobbing that went on for several more minutes before silence prevailed.
“He will sleep now, m’lord,” the woman said.
“Thank you, Mistress Thornton.” Quenton looked to the foot of the bed. “And thank you, Minerva. I’m grateful that you got to him so quickly.”
“You’re welcome, my lord.” The young servant smoothed the covers. “Have no fear. I’ll stay with him now and see that he sleeps.”
As Quenton turned away, he caught sight of Olivia standing in the open doorway. Without a word he crossed the space between them and swept her roughly into the hallway, pulling the door shut after him.
“Forgive me, Lord Stamford. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“But that is exactly what you were doing.”
“I... heard the scream and had to investigate. I didn’t know what I was hearing. I thought...” She bit her lip, unwilling to finish what she’d been about to say.
“It does take some time to get used to, Miss St. John.” With his hand beneath her elbow he steered her along the hall toward her room. He seemed in a great hurry to be done with her. “My brother is very ill. He is haunted by old memories. Memories that manifest themselves in the night and cause him great anguish.”
“Can nothing be done for him?”
Quenton shook his head. “The physicians who have examined him have assured me that they know of nothing that can help him.”
She paused outside her doorway and for the first time looked up into his dark eyes. There was such pain there. Such misery. It touched her heart. “I’m sorry, Lord Stamford.”
She could see the flicker of annoyance. It was obvious that he didn’t want her pity.
He started to turn away, then thought better of it and turned back to her. “The next time you hear my brother’s cries, Miss St. John, I advise you to remain in your room.” He gave a curt nod of his head. “I bid you good-night.”
She watched as he made his way down the hall. Then she entered her room and closed the door, leaning wearily against it.
“Well,” she whispered. “Welcome to Blackthorne, my girl.”
Chapter Four
S
cant hours later Olivia was up and preparing for her first day as nursemaid. Dressed in her simple gray gown, she had just finished tying back her hair into a neat knot at her nape when there was a knock on her door.
cant hours later Olivia was up and preparing for her first day as nursemaid. Dressed in her simple gray gown, she had just finished tying back her hair into a neat knot at her nape when there was a knock on her door.
“Come.”
Edlyn entered carrying a tray. If anything, her frown was even more pronounced. “Mistress Thornton said I was to bring you tea and biscuits.”
“Thank you, Edlyn. That was kind of Mistress Thornton. If you don’t mind, I’ll take the tray with me and have my breakfast with Liat.”
The servant turned away with a scowl. “I’ll fetch it there myself or Mistress Thornton will have my head.”
“There’s no need.” Olivia wanted to be alone when she met the lad for the first time. She wanted no distractions that might cause him to put up his guard. “I won’t say anything to the housekeeper. I’m sure you have more than enough chores to see to.”
“Aye. Especially when Mistress Thornton is in one of her moods.” The woman rolled her eyes. “You’ve never been insulted until you’ve had your ears blistered by the old biddy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Olivia waited until the servant had left before carrying the tray through the door to the boy’s chambers. The connecting sitting room was much like hers, with a cheery fire blazing on the hearth, and several comfortable chairs and a chaise. There was a small table as well, which Olivia decided would make an excellent writing table for her young charge.
She knocked on his bedroom door, then opened it.
“Hello, Liat. My name is Olivia St. John.” She paused in the doorway and watched as the little boy turned. He was perched on a trunk which he’d dragged over to an alcove. His feet were bare, and he was wearing short pants and a shirt made of some sort of colorful fabric. She made a mental note that the boy needed warmer clothing for the brisk English weather. “What are you looking at?”
The boy shrugged and held his silence.
Olivia crossed the room and paused beside him. “Ah. I see. The gardens. You have a very good view from here. My, they look very small when viewed from so high.” She smiled at him. “Would you like to walk in the gardens?”
He shrank back.
“You mean you wouldn’t like to go outside? Why, I should think a boy like you would enjoy running between the hedges, and chasing butterflies.”
At that he perked up. “Butterflies?”
Ah, so she had managed to snag his attention. “You didn’t think there were any butterflies in England?”
He shook his head.
She gave him a friendly smile. “Well, there are. And deer and rabbits and squirrels. Wouldn’t you like to see them?”
He nodded.
“Good. Then we’ll stroll the garden as soon as we’ve broken our fast.”
He shook his head again. “I’m afraid.” His voice was little more than a whisper.
“Afraid of what?”
“Of the monsters.”
“What monsters?”
“The ones—” he glanced around fearfully “—that sweep in without warning and blot out the sun.”
Puzzled, Olivia was about to ask more questions when he suddenly pointed. “Here comes one now.”
She turned her gaze to the window and watched as a bank of stormclouds covered the sun, shrouding the land in darkness. “It’s just a little rainstorm, Liat. Surely you saw such storms before you came to England.”
He vehemently shook his head. “On my island the sun was always shining. And it was always warm.” He shivered. “There are monsters here that snatch away the sun and warmth. Just the way they snatched away my mama.”
Olivia’s heart went out to the frightened little boy. If there was one thing she understood, it was the confusion that came from having loved ones snatched without warning. “Come with me, Liat. Don’t be afraid,” she urged when he hesitated.
Taking his hand she helped him down from the trunk and led him across the room to where a fire burned on the hearth. She motioned for him to sit on the rug, then settled herself beside him, drawing up her knees. Filling two cups with tea and milk, she handed him one and sipped the other.
“I recently lost my father and mother, too.”
“Did a monster come and snatch them?”
“No. They died. Now they’re with the angels.”
“Where?”
“In heaven.”
“Do they like it there?”
She nodded. “Very much. They’re happy in their new home.”
“Do you think my mama is there with them?”
“I know she is. And though you can’t see her, she’s still looking out for you. Just as my parents are looking out for me.”
“If she’s looking out for me, why did she allow me to be taken away from my island and brought to this place?”
Olivia watched the way his lower lip quivered. How she longed to take this poor child into her arms and kiss away his fears. But, she reminded herself, she was his governess, not his mother or doting aunt. Her job was to help him cope with the situation. And perhaps toughen him up in the bargain.
“We don’t know why things happen, Liat But we must trust that all things happen for a reason.”
He seemed to digest that for a long moment before looking up at her. “Have you always lived here at Blackthorne?”
She shook her head. “Like you, my home is far from here.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m here to be your teacher and your nurse, and, if you’ll let me, your friend.”
“Do you like it here?”
“I don’t really know yet. I’ve only just arrived. But I’m going to do my best. to like it here.”
As soon as she had spoken, she felt a strange sort of comfort. Odd, she’d meant only to soothe his fears. But her own burden seemed suddenly lighter. It was true. She did intend to do her best to make her stay here, and that of the lad, as pleasurable as possible.
“Here.” She broke apart a biscuit and spooned fruit conserve over it before handing half to him.
He nibbled, gave her a faint smile of approval, then finished the rest.
“You see?” She sipped her tea and returned the smile. “Papa used to say that talking out your fears was an important first step. Then you must face them if you are to conquer them.” She brushed her fingers across his cheek and gave him an encouraging smile. “We will face our fears together, Liat, until there are no fears left.”
Quenton Stamford stood perfectly still, cautioning the hound at his heel to do the same. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. In fact, he’d only come to handle the introductions between the boy and his new governess. But now, watching and listening, he wondered about the fates that had sent this young woman to Blackthorne. Upon his first view of her, he’d thought that she might prove to be too young and inexperienced for the job. Too fragile. And too filled with her own arrogance and uneasiness to be of any help to a lost, frightened child. Now he was beginning to hope she might be just what the boy needed.
It weighed heavily on his mind that the lad was so out of his element in England. But there had been few choices left. With the death of his grandfather, Quenton had been forced to return to Blackthorne in haste. Still, he had made the boy’s mother a promise on her deathbed to protect Liat from harm. The only way to keep his promise was to bring the boy here.
He watched and listened a moment longer as Olivia’s voice washed over him.
“Liat, my mother used to quote from the Great Book, ‘To all things there is a season. A time for planting, a time for reaping. A time for laughing, a time for weeping. A time for living, a time for dying.’ This, then, is your time to grow, to learn and to let go of your fears. And I shall do the same.”
Quenton nodded. Very well. He would let her remain. For now.
He turned and left as quietly as he had arrived. The hound moved soundlessly at his side.
If only the solutions to all his problems could be as simple as this had proved to be. Now he could turn his attention to those damnable ledgers, and the mess his grandfather had left behind.
“Come, Liat.” Olivia opened the door of his chambers and beckoned him to follow. “It’s time for us to explore Blackthorne.”
As they made their way along the hall he whispered, “The servants told me I must never go in there.” He pointed to Bennett’s room.
“Why?”
He shuddered. “Edlyn said there’s a monster living in there.”
More monsters. Olivia was determined that such nonsense must stop at once. “He isn’t a monster. He is a young man. Come. I’ll show you.” Without waiting to think about what she was doing, she knocked, then opened the door.
Inside, the pale young man looked up, startled, from his chair by the window. The servant, Minerva, looked equally startled.
“What are you doing, miss?”
“My name is Olivia St. John. And this is Liat. I thought...” She wondered what she could possibly say to excuse her impulsive behavior. “I thought we might sup with you this evening.”
“Master Bennett always sups alone, miss.”
“And so do we,” she said with a smile that included the silent young man. “If we were to take our meal together, it would give Liat a chance to get to know you. And you to know us.”
“I don’t think...” Before the young servant could refuse, she caught sight of Bennett’s eyes, wide and pleading. “Well...” She considered, wondering how the housekeeper would react when she heard about this. Still, Master Bennett looked almost eager. She relented. “Aye. I’ll have Edlyn bring your trays. We eat at dusk.”
Olivia nodded, then turned to smile at Bennett. “Until dusk, then.”
She caught Liat’s hand and led him from the room. He didn’t volunteer a word until they reached the kitchen. Then, in a hushed voice, he said, “That was my first monster, ma’am.”
Olivia bit back her smile. “Aye. And mine as well.”
“Who are you and what are you doing in my kitchen?”
At the booming voice they both turned to face a woman who was at least as tall as Pembroke, with hands big enough to handle with ease a side of beef or a whole roasted pig. These hands were now planted at either side of enormous hips encased in a shapeless gown.
“My name is Olivia St. John.”
“The new governess.”
“Aye. And this is Liat.”
“My name’s Molly. Molly Malloy. But I’m known as Cook.”
“Hello, Cook.” Olivia grasped her hand. “We’ve just come from a walk around Blackthorne and hoped we could warm ourselves with a cup of tea.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place. Sit.” Cook indicated a scarred wooden table.
Within minutes there were steaming cups of tea in front of them, along with tarts still warm from the oven.
“You do know the way to Liat’s heart,” Olivia said as she gratefully sipped the tea.
“Like my tarts, do you, lad?”
Because his mouth was full, he merely nodded.
“When Bennett and Quenton were lads, they couldn’t get enough of my tarts.”
“You’ve known them since they were young?”
“All their lives. And their father before them. Good lads they were. And still are.”
While she spoke she continued rolling dough and shaping it into small tarts. Mistress Thornton ambled in and poured herself a cup of tea, and within minutes Pembroke joined them as well.
“I see ye’re getting acquainted with the lad and ’is governess,” the housekeeper muttered as she helped herself to a tart.
“Aye.” Cook handed a tart to the butler. “Been telling them about the lord and his brother. Got into mischief when they were younger. But never anything mean-spirited.”
Pembroke nodded. “They always looked out for each other. But they were full of energy.”
“Do you recall the time the old lord had us hunting all over Blackthorne for his two grandsons? Turned the house upside down, we did.”
“Where did you finally find them?” Olivia asked.
“In the stables, beside their favorite mare, who had just foaled. All three young ones, the lads and the foal, being licked and nuzzled until they had fallen asleep.” Mistress Thornton, in her high-pitched voice, had them all laughing as she recalled the scene.
It was a most pleasant hour. And it gave Olivia a chance to see Lord Stamford in a whole new light.
“Miss St. John seems attentive enough, m’lord. She and the lad seem to be getting on. A bit bold though. Has no qualms about poking all round the place, chatting up the servants.”
Mistress Thornton saw Lord Stamford glance up from his ledgers and started talking faster to hold his attention. “From what I can learn, she’s educated. Her parents were scholars. Made their home in Oxford. And...”
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