‘A letter for you, Mrs Fitzroy. My apologies. It arrived yesterday, but I forgot about it until this morning.’
He placed it next to my plate, and when I saw Max’s handwriting, I felt my spirits lift even further. This was turning out to be a most excellent day.
‘Receiving mail already!’ remarked Mr Hart, buttering his umpteenth piece of toast. ‘And who might be writing to you?’
‘It is from my husband, Mr Hart.’
‘Ah, he must be an astute man to discover your whereabouts so quickly.’
‘He is astute, but I wrote to him before we left telling him we had been invited to visit Hartmoor Castle. So it is not as much of a surprise to me as it may be to you.’
I did not speak with the intent to wound, but maybe he felt slighted as Mr Hart inclined his head without comment.Then after a brief pause, he changed the subject entirely. ‘Miss Fitzroy has requested a tour of the castle and the grounds this morning. How does that suit everyone?’
The rest of us murmured our assent.
‘Will the tour include the library too?’ Lucinda asked anxiously.
‘Yes, of course. The library is on the list of highlights, along with the dungeon ...’
‘Dungeon!’ said Jane, sounding awestruck. ‘How thrilling!’
I left them to it, saying I would ready myself for the tour now that my luggage was here. But really, I wanted to read Max’s letter privately in my room.
Dearest Fliss,
Forgive me for writing before you have sent your promised letter, but I wanted to send a note forthwith. In truth, I am surprised and a tad worried to hear of your castle excursion because it involves this Hart fellow again. It seems odd that he was initially described as a ‘scoundrel’, but an invite to visit his residence suggests he has lately risen in everyone’s esteem. Has Lucinda rejected her other suitors and now singularly focused upon him?
I know I may be worrying out of turn, and I do not mean to suggest that you do not have good insight into men’s characters—only that if you have any concerns about this gentleman yourself and need advice on how to proceed, please let me know, and I will do my best to help from here. And if you require it, I will come down in the carriage and defend Lucinda’s honour (I am quite serious). Besides, Tobias left yesterday, so I now find myself at a loose end without his company.
Write soonest,
Love your Max xx
PS: George wants to know when you are coming home as he misses you terribly. He has quite gone off his oats.
I took a deep breath to stem my tears. As much as I wanted to see my dear Max, him travelling hundreds of miles to defend his niece’s honour was a bit ludicrous. For really, there was nothing to report when it came to Lucinda. The actual issue was Mr Hart being overly attentive and possibly showing a lack of propriety when it came to me! But how could I ask Max for advice about that? He wouldlose his mind, leap into his carriage, and come storming into the castle with a face like thunder, demanding a duel. I could imagine the amused look on Mr Hart’s face if he did that!
I ran to Jane’s room, swiped a piece of her paper and a quill, and hurriedly penned a reply.
Dear Max,
It was lovely to receive your letter at breakfast this morning. I have come upstairs immediately to write back! Darling, I appreciate your concern, but I hope I can set your mind at ease by saying you need not worry about anything. We arrived last night, and Mr Hart is being the most cordial and respectful host. In fact, he is going to give us a tour of the castle and grounds this morning. Apparently there is a library so Lucy is most eager to see that, as you can imagine.
I need to get ready for the tour now, but I will write more soon once I have something remotely interesting to share. Are you interested in medieval architecture at all, or does it bore you to tears?
Love your Fliss xx
PS: I miss George terribly too and hope he recovers his appetite soon—perhaps you could give him a few carrots now that you are so good at peeling them?
***
The first stop on the Hartmoor tour was the dungeon, accessed by a narrow flight of stone stairs from the kitchen. It was a small stale-smelling dark room strewn with straw.
‘We use it as a storage cellar now,’ said Mr Hart.
Indeed, when he held his candle up to show us the space, there were several sacks of potatoes piled up in one corner and a wooden rack of dusty wine in another. But he also pointed out some iron rings set into the far wall and said that was where the prisoners had been tied up.
‘How awful!’ said Lucinda. ‘Imagine being a prisoner trapped down here in the dark for weeks or maybe months.’
