Trondelaine Castle (15 page)

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 wall 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.”

The reply was quiet, but the voice was firm.
“Perhaps I wished to tease Tony for his impertinence.
Perhaps I was simply amusing myself. But I frankly am
concerned about your foot. You look a bit gray.” In her
room, he set Wendy down. “Now go and wash up. I
want to see that you really are all right. If not, I shall
call Roger at once.”

He waited while she did as he ordered. There was
little Wendy could do about the dust on her clothes, but
when she emerged from the bathroom, Wendy looked
distinctly less pale. A cup of tea was waiting for her.
“When you’ve finished that,” Lord Richard said, “and
I’m satisfied your foot has not been reinjured, I’ll leave
you. Tell me, did you enjoy exploring?”

“Oh, yes!” she said, a little too hastily. “Particularly
the garret with the old trunks and so on.”

“How did you discover the staircase to my room?” he
asked, puzzled.

Suddenly aware again of the dressing gown, Wendy blushed and said, “But I didn’t know it led to your
room! I-I just saw a door standing open… and
stairs-I couldn’t resist.”

Richard chuckled. “I wonder if that ever happened
with maid servants? You have now seen the secret
which has been passed from Earl to heir for centuries.
And which the women of the family never knew about.
Though, to my knowledge, it has not been used in three
generations, at least.” He paused and nodded approvingly. “You look quite yourself again. The foot?”

“Fine.”

“Good. I shall leave you, then. Tony’s imagination
must be quite active right now.”

As the door closed behind Lord Richard, Wendy
found herself caught up by the memory of the feel of his
arms about her, and his deep, masculine smell as he
carried her down the stairs. Angrily, she shook her
head to dismiss these irrelevant sensations. There was
no future in romantic feelings, for the Earl. He was
young, handsome, wealthy, and unattached. And very
masculine. But all of that could not make up for his
insensitivity about others and rudeness toward everyone. She must not allow herself to be beguiled.

After changing her clothes, Wendy went to the
library to work. Neither Lord Richard nor Tony were
there, so she was able to work undisturbed. Naturally,
at Trondelaine, such a state of affairs could not last
long. First, it was Gwen with lunch and news that there
was trouble in the servants’ quarters. “Why?” Wendy
asked, aware it was expected of her.

“Well, Miss Pratt,” Gwen began confidentially, “it’s
that Lady Sylvia. Lost her bracelet and the master
asked if we’d seen it and to watch for it. ‘Course we said
we’d give it to him as soon as we found it. But we didn’t
find it. Then today Mr. Tony asked Mr. Keith-that’s the butler-about it. Hinted maybe someone took it on
purpose. Well! Mr. Keith told Mr. Tony that was
impossible and then withdrew. But in the kitchen, he
said quite a bit more, I can tell you!”

Wendy smiled wryly. “Lacks tact, doesn’t he? Tony,
I mean. I wouldn’t worry about it, Gwen. I’m sure no
one else doubts the honesty of any of you.”

Gwen nodded. “That’s true. When the master heard
what Mr. Tony had said, he said the same as you. And
he promised to speak to Mr. Tony. Well, Miss Pratt,
I’d best get back to the kitchen. It’s just that we’re all a
bit upset.”

Wendy nodded sympathetically and, when the maid
had gone, considered the matter again. She really did
believe the servants honest. And she felt it certainly had
not been Tony’s place to speak to Charles in such a
manner. Particularly on a Friday when the staff was so
busy. Suppose they had been too upset to work? What
would Richard have done with the tour group due this
evening?