"We did – and made friends with the duchess there, so I intend to go and visit her. And not just to see the castle," she added with a laugh.
"There are some others I’ve heard of that you might like to visit. Amblewood – I’ve met the lord and lady who live there, so I can get you an introduction. Their daughter married a duke over the border in Scotland, but she comes back regularly. You might get to meet her – she’s probably your age. And then there’s Gracewood – it’s a little further out, but I heard that it was abandoned. The old earl who lived in it left, according to a friend of mine, and the place is falling into ruin."
"That’s sad."
"It is. And he left after the death of his wife, apparently – so it seems a sad place all round."
"Well, I daresay I will find time to go and see it. I don’t believe I’ve read about that one. But first, how are you finding Northumberland? Is it everything you hoped it would be?"
"I know everyone thinks I’m a fool, to have moved so far away at my age. But I used to visit here as a girl, you know, and I love it. It’s everything I’d imagined it would be – beautiful, tranquil, quiet. I regret that it’s so far from you and Charity, of course, and that son of mine. But other than that, it feels like the perfect place to spend my final years."
???
Ezra declined the invitation to Lady Portbury’s ball, but he did promise his mother he would attend one later in the month, if she truly wished him to. And it seemed she did – as long as he shaved off that wretched beard.
So he had agreed that the beard would go – but there was no need for that until closer to the ball, certainly.
He knew his mother only had his best interests at heart, but he couldn’t help feeling irritated. He had done everything he was supposed to – married at a fairly young age, to an appropriate woman who everyone was sure would make the perfect countess. And then she had become pregnant quickly, with what they all hoped would be a son and heir.
And then everything had gone so terribly wrong. The child had been a boy, but he had not survived – and neither had Laura.
And so now he didn’t much feel like doing things the way one was supposed to. He didn’t think he would get any joy from going to a ball, so he had not done so in years.
But when he had finally agreed to go, his mother had looked so pleased that he felt a little guilty for having refused for so many years. It wouldn’t hurt him to attend, he supposed – and it would be nice to make her happy.
He sat at his desk and caught up on his correspondence, occasionally looking out over the fields which went on for miles.They were farmed by a fairly competent man, but he knew more could be done, if he only had the interest to push forward change. But since Laura had died, he had just let things be – ticking along; not a problem, but never changing, never moving forward.
He paused for a moment, thinking he heard the front door creaking, but then returned to his letter. He supposed it would be Soames answering the door to a passing salesman, or simply airing the castle. Or maybe it was just the wind. They didn’t really get visitors here.
Then he jumped as he definitely heard a door banging – and this time an internal one. With only him in the house, the servants were normally done with their cleaning well before this hour, and so the only sound above stairs was usually when it was time to serve dinner – which was still another two hours off.
Curious, he opened the door and stood in the hallway, looking up and down to see if he could determine where the noise was coming from. The place was draughty, but the doors were heavy, and unless they were in a storm – which they most certainly were not – he would not have expected to hear so much noise.
At the sound of a cough, he turned his head, and was startled to see a woman dressed in a blue travelling cloak, her hair pinned haphazardly out of her face, her skirt hem trailing along the floor.
"Oh!" she exclaimed at the sight of him. "I’m sorry, I thought—"
"Who are you?" he growled, when the surprise had worn off enough to let him speak. "What are you doing here?"
She was a plain-looking woman, not poor enough to be a vagrant, certainly, and she had no business being in his castle. Uninvited. And no one was ever invited here.
"I’m sorry," she said again. "I was told the place was abandoned. I didn’t mean to—"
"Get out," Ezra ordered, taking a step towards her. "Get out of my house and don’t ever come back!"
Chapter Three
It certainly looked abandoned from the outside. Vines and thorns grew up the sides of the castle, making it appear as though no gardener had tended the premises for a long time.
She didn’t knock on the door, because, after all, her grandmother had said it was empty. Inside, however, she grew a little suspicious. There was a cleanliness to the place that suggested it was not entirely abandoned – or at least, that it had not been abandoned for long. Hadn’t Grandmamma said that the old earl had retired from public life years earlier, after the tragic death of his wife?
But still, her curiosity was piqued. The place looked like a castle from a fairy tale –one in which the princess was locked away.
She just wanted to see what the inside was like. She padded along the corridor, feeling a little self-conscious, and peeked through the open doors. One room was covered in dust sheets, so perhaps it was abandoned, and yet in another, there was a book left out on the table. Surely it had not sat there unread for years?
She opened a closed door, thinking that she really ought to turn back and investigate with the locals a little more about whether the place was truly abandoned – when a door at the far end of the corridor opened, and a man emerged. A tall, broad man with a thick, dark beard and wild eyes. Her heart began torace, immediately assuming he was some sort of monster. But then her rational brain took over. He could only be a man, albeit a very angry one.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, and she tried to explain. She really did – but it did not appease him.
