As normal as it ever was.
She stopped by her private chamber for her pelisse and basket before heading down the spiral staircase toward the castle exit.
Before she reached the door, the castle solicitor stepped into her path.
“Miss Underwood,” he said. “You more than anyone will be delighted to hear my news.”
Last time he had news, Virginia had been anything but delighted. The solicitor seemed as bad as she was at guessing others’ thoughts.
“What is it?” she forced herself to ask.
He beamed at her. “I am in possession of Mr. Marlowe’s complete plans for the aviary. All the moving pieces are finally underway. Not only will all that wasted space be fully stocked within a month, we are hiring an expert.”
“An expert?”
“A veterinarian,” he explained. “A man with years of experience, specializing in the care of birds. I shan’t be surprised if the aviary becomes the most popular attraction for miles.”
Virginia’s flesh turned cold. It wasn’t just that the castle was replacing her with someone better. They planned to turn her beloved sanctuary into a tourist spot filled with noise and people.
And it would happen within the month.
“Thank you for warning me,” she managed.
The solicitor frowned. “There will be hundreds of new birds. Aren’t you—”
But Virginia was already pushing away from him, away from the suddenly oppressive confines of the expansive receiving room with its high arched walls.
The castle was changing. Soon there would be no room for her.
As she stepped out into the wintry afternoon, she sucked in a breath of cold, bracing air. The bright sun overhead was blanketed by soft clouds, diffusing the light. It was not warm enough for snow to melt nor cold enough for new flakes to fall. No breeze rustled through the white-dusted trees. The day was perfectly still and quiet, as if nothing was happening at all.
She recognized a calm before a storm. If she was no longer needed in the aviary, if the castle was about to be overrun with even bigger crowds, what did she intend to do?
With her heavy basket in her arms, she set a brisk pace down the lane and tried to devise a viable plan.
At least she wasn’t indigent. When Mr. Marlowe had taken her in as his ward, he had provided her with monthly pin money. When he died, his will and testament had set aside a dowry in her name.
Which meant, quite possibly, Virginia was one of the few young ladies in all of England to possess not one, but two dowries.
She was not certain if the original dowry her parents had provided still existed, but it did not matter. She had no intention to marry. Doing so would give her husband the same power her parents had wielded—the ability to commit her to an asylum against her will for the rest of her life. Spinsterhood was by far the better path.
In the six years that she’d been receiving her monthly allowance, Virginia had made very few purchases. It wasn’t necessary. Lodgings were provided. Meals were provided. The castle library held a plethora of books and more arrived every year.
Her unused pin money had snowballed into a significant sum.
Now could be the time to spend it. She strode faster. This was the push she needed. Her chance to open the animal sanatorium she’d dreamed of owning.
She would cease to be the specter in the castle. She’d be as demonstrably useful in her domain as the exalted bird expert would be to the castle aviary. She wouldn’t justhavesomething important. She wouldbeimportant.
That was, if Virginia could manage the non-animal aspects of operating a sanatorium. There would be so many people to talk to. So many ways it could go wrong.
She would need an appropriate venue. To negotiate terms. Sign a contract. Commission furnishings. She would either need to seek out animals in need on her own time or solicit business from other residents. Fromstrangers.
Oh, who was she bamming? She would never leave the castle. The fragrant basket in her arms seemed heavier than ever.
Swinton answered her knock.
“Don’t announce me yet,” she whispered. “This is for my patient, although he needn’t know it is from me.”
