“That would be lovely,” Daphne said. “What is at the other side of the wall at the end of the passagewayoutside the room?”
Mrs. Bromley looked blank.
“One does not expect passageways to come to an abrupt end,” Daphne said.
“Well, I suppose all of them must end somewhere, madam,” the housekeeper said.
But there must be something the other side of the wall, if only space, Daphne thought. Mrs. Bromleywas new to her job, though, and seemed not to havegot her bearings sufficiently yet to answer detailedquestions. She would have to wait for tomorrow anddaylight, Daphne decided, and go exploring both inside and outside. The excitement of being the ownerof a castle, complete with extinct moat and residentghosts, grabbed at her again as it had at frequent intervals since she had first learned of her inheritancethe week before—though she had not been told of theghosts then.
And it was all hers, even if only for three months.
There was a massive round tower beyond the blank wall in the passageway outside Daphne’s bedchamber.She discovered it the following morning when shedonned her half boots and drew on her cloak over awool dress and went striding off to explore the outdoors, despite Miss Tweedsmuir’s protests that it wasa cold, windy day and likely to rain at any moment.It was clear that she had no wish to take to the outdoors merely in order to chaperone a young lady whowas showing an alarming tendency to be curious andenergetic. But there was no need for her to exert herself, Daphne assured her. She was merely going toexplore the courtyard and the circumference of theoutside walls. She hardly needed a chaperone to accompany her. Miss Tweedsmuir did not argue thepoint.
Her bedchamber was in the middle of the north wall of the castle. When she arose from bed and gazed outof her window, she found that she was looking downinto the courtyard. The arched entryway lay to theleft. What was perhaps a vast bed of flowers duringthe summer was now dull brown earth. The view fromthe window in the passageway outside her door confirmed her impression. She looked down the slope tothe no longer existent moat and inland over the topsof trees into the distance. If she had been placed in aroom on the other side of the courtyard, perhaps shewould have been able to see the sea. Though perhapsnot. A fortress would have been built to be invisiblefrom the sea and invading ships.
Her explorations out of doors revealed a castle not quite square in shape, with massive towers at eachcorner, and one in the center of each of the northernand southern walls. It was the northern one that wasnext to her room. There was no entrance to it fromthe outside. But of course, for defensive purposes, thecastle would have been built with only the one entrance. There was a rounded archway leading into thetower from the courtyard, but when Daphne peeredeagerly inside, she found a stone wall where she hadexpected to see the beginning of a circular stone staircase. When she went inside to explore the lower passageway beneath hers, she discovered without surprisethat it ended as hers did—with a stone wall.
There was a simple explanation, of course, as she discovered later from an elderly groom in the stables.The tower and the stairs had been deemed unsafe bya former baron—not his lordship who had just died—and had been walled up to put it beyond temptation’sway. It was a shame, though, Daphne thought, absently smoothing her hand over the back of the horsethe groom was brushing. When a castle was one’shome, it should not be allowed to fall into ruin. Shewondered if her fortune was large enough that shecould restore the tower. She must ask Mr. Tweedsmuir. Of course, there were probably several otherparts of the castle that needed restoring, too. Besides,whatever happened with the Earl of Everett, RoscoeCastle would be strictly hers for only three months.Less—a week had already passed.
“Of course,” the groom was saying, “there are those who say that the tower was shut off because ofthe foul deeds done there.”
Daphne brightened into instant alertness. “Oh?” she said. “What deeds, pray?”
“I don’t know the rights of it, miss,” he said. “But it’s all nonsense if you was to ask me, just like allthem stories about ghosts. I been here more than fortyyears, miss, and I never yet seen no ghosts. Murdermost foul it was supposed to be.”
Daphne was disappointed. No one she had yet spoken to at Roscoe Castle seemed to suffer in the least from curiosity. Most of the servants were as new asMrs. Bromley. Even those who were not could onlyhint darkly at ghosts and murders. Did no one knowany of the facts?
“Word has it,” the groom said, “that that is what set the family here and the family at Everett Park ateach other’s throats all down the years. But I call itall nonsense, miss. Jealousy and greed is all that hasever been between them—both of ’em wanting theother’s land. It don’t do to have two men of influenceliving so close.”
“But how splendid,” Daphne said, “if the feud originated in ‘murder most foul,’ as you put it. I like that description. Would anyone know the details of thestory?”
The groom scratched his unshaven chin. “Some of the old people in the village,” he said. “And perhapsthe Countess of Everett, miss. She always was keenon gathering local history, I have heard. She evenwrites it all down, some say. Doesn’t have nothingelse to do with her time, if you was to ask me.”
The Countess of Everett. She must be the mother of her prospective bridegroom. Daphne’s heart sankas she was reminded of what was coming within thenext week or so. There was to be a temporary reprievefrom the nasty business of meeting the earl and sizinghim up while he did the same to her, both wonderingwhether they could bear the thought of spending therest of their lives with each other. Mr. Tweedsmuir,who had sent early to Everett Park, had had a replyafter breakfast informing him that his lordship was inLondon and would not return for a week, having assumed that it would take longer for Miss Borland toarrive.
Or because he wanted one more week of glorious freedom, Daphne thought. But in the process, ofcourse, he was granting her one more week of gloriousfreedom, too, and she intended to enjoy it. But shewished there were someone readily accessible to giveher a full history of the castle with all the gruesomedetails of the story the groom had only been able towhet her appetite with. It was so very prosaic to believe that that tower had been sealed up just becauseit was becoming weakened with age. It was very muchmore romantic to believe that it held some dark secretor some tormented ghost. All the other towers, shediscovered on examination, were open to explorationeven if not all of them were in excellent repair.
Mr. Tweedsmuir consented to take a short ride with Daphne in the afternoon and she discovered thatUncle Cyrus had not exaggerated either the height orthe spectacular drop from the cliffs to the sea. Butthey did not ride far across the clifftop as the windbuffeted them quite mercilessly.
Miss Tweedsmuir sat and conversed with her after tea and played a few hands of cards with her afterdinner.
Altogether, Daphne thought as she retired to bed, watching the strange dancing shadows her candle castover the walls of the passageway as she approachedher bedchamber, she was enjoying being the owner ofher own home. In two or three months’ time, shewould probably be someone’s governess, the patternof her life interrupted only briefly. But in the meanwhile she was going to enjoy to the full her new andunexpected status and the adventure that was comingwith it. Why spoil these months by reminding herselfthat they would soon be at an end?
She wondered if the Earl of Everett really did look like Adonis and if he had the character to match.Perhaps she should hope that he was far more ordinary in every way. What would an Adonis think ofher as a bride? She set her candle down on the dressing table in her room and peered at her image in thelooking glass. She looked very ordinary with her shortbrown curls and brown eyes and rosy cheeks. And herfigure, though slender, was not exactly the type tomake a man’s mouth water. At least, she had nevernoticed any of the men of her acquaintance salivatingat the mere sight of her. The two men who had proposed to her had needed housekeepers and breeders.
Daphne sighed and turned toward the warmth of the fire while she undressed. She was unused to havinga maid and had told the one assigned to her that shewould not be needed until morning. It would be wonderful to see the light of admiration in a man’s eyesat least once in her lifetime. She was twenty years oldand had never been in love or the object of anyone’slove. She had never even been kissed. She really hadled a very dull life so far.
Well, she reminded herself, shivering despite the heat of the fire, she might experience far more thanjust kisses within the next three months if her grandfather’s plan came to fruition.
Didhe look like Adonis?
She did not know what woke her. At first she thought it was a sound, but if it was, it had stoppedaltogether by the time she was awake and listeningintently for it to be repeated. There was no soundbeyond the ticking of the clock on the mantel. Certainly there was no other sound inside her room or inthe passageway, either. But then she had not wokenwith a wildly beating heart, as she would surely havedone if there had been a noise to threaten her, likestealthy footsteps. She could hear no outdoor noise,either.
Perhaps it was just that she was cold or uncomfortable. But she was neither, she realized. She was as warm as toast even though the fire had died down inthe grate. It must be very late into the night. Anyway,she had woken suddenly, not with the gradual irritation of some physical discomfort.
Perhaps it was just a dream she had needed to escape from, she thought, yawning and stretching with lazy comfort. There was something rather deliciousabout waking in the middle of the night and knowingthat one could fall back to sleep for hours before therewas the necessity of getting up. She wriggled hershoulders more snugly beneath the pillows and settledher mind for sleep.
Except that it would not come. Or the delight of being snuggled into a warm and comfortable bed withchilliness beyond it and hours to go before she mustfeel obliged to throw off sloth and get out of bed. Shehad to get up now. She could not resist the urge. Shehad to get out of bed and huddle quickly inside herslippers and winter dressing gown and light the candleand go—where?
