The library, whence the men had clearly repaired almost as soon as the ladies left them, smelled of wine and brandy and tobacco.Books had been taken down from various shelves and abandoned, some open on tables and chairs.
The Temperleys had not closed off any rooms that April had come across so far, so she was quite surprised to find a set of locked double-doors at the end of the passage.Though she went as far as crouching down to peer through the keyhole, holding the candle as close as she dared, she could see nothing but darkness beyond.
In any case, it was sheer nosiness.She began to think she must have been mistaken to read genuine distress into the noises she had heard, noises that must have been distorted in any case by the chimney system.The tiled floors were cold under her bare feet.She should go back to bed, or she would sleep through breakfast tomorrow morning.
She returned to the bedroom floor by the main staircase but on impulse searched out the stairs that led to the attics where the servants slept.At the foot, she listened and heard nothing at all.She doubted there were fireplaces in the attics anyway.But since she was there, she climbed up.
For the first time, she felt her candle could not dispel the darkness.The house seemed suddenly oppressive, almost to the point of malevolence, but she refused to give in until she reached the top.Halfway up, a door led to a room where someone clearly slept, for she could hear a sort of soft, snuffly snoring that she judged to be feminine.It was an oddly comforting sound, and she paused.
There was nothing wrong here.All was well and silent, and she should not risk disturbing servants who had too much to do.
But the door at the top suddenly opened and a man stood there.
Her heart skittered.Her stomach stung with alarm, and she only just stopped herself from dropping the candle in order to comfort it.Instead, she raised the light higher until she made out the features of Edward the footman.
He wore his shirt loose over his breeches, and his hair was rumpled.For an instant he didn’t move, as if he was as startled as she by the encounter.Which at least gave April her courage back.
“Why are you up?”she demanded.“Is all well?”
“Perfectly, my lady,” he replied.He too had recovered, for his smile was insolent, knowing, inviting.“Were you looking for me?”
“No.I heard someone crying.”
“Probably the maids and their silly love-lives.Or...”His grin widened, almost wolfish now.“Or perhaps you heard the ghost.”
April sighed.“I doubt it.Good night, Edward.”
She turned and descended in as stately manner as she could with her hair loose and her bulky dressing gown getting in the way of her bare feet.
His soft, mocking voice followed her.“Lady Temperley didn’t warn you?We got ghosts here all right.Everyone’s afraid to leave their rooms at night in case they see one.Other people hear it crying too.”
“Then let us hope it is finished for the night,” she murmured, and retreated back to the main passage.
She felt ridiculously relieved to be away from Edward and his nonsense.He had not threatened her with more than very mild insolence, although it was of a suggestive sort that reminded her why she had once pretended to be a boy.
Still, she was no longer vulnerable and unprotected, and Edward was hardly a worthy opponent.He had just come to investigate her footsteps on the stairs and was, no doubt, always the opportunist.
She crept back to her room, where Piers was now sleeping more peacefully.She removed the dressing gown, blew out the candle, and lay down beside him.
She was almost asleep again before it came to her that the room halfway up the stairs had been occupied most probably by a female, judging by the “voice” of the snores.She guessed it to be Mrs.Riley the cook.Which should have meant that side of the attic belonged to the female servants.In which case, what the devil was Edward doing there?
***
PIERS WOKE IN THE COMPANYof an old and unwelcome friend—the aftermath of over-indulgence.His head was annoyingly fuzzy, a faint ache threatening in the background.His throat felt like sandpaper.Moreover, there was no warm, soft April beside him when he reached for her.
Just as well.He must stink worse than a dockside tavern.He should not have inflicted himself on her at all, although he remembered somewhat hazily that she had pulled him into bed with her.She probably hadn’t smelled him first.
Cautiously, he sat up.His head swam a bit but the sight of a cup of tea by his bedside more than made up for that.Grasping it eagerly, he drank it down—it was still warm—and looked around for the pot.Discovering the tray on the table at the foot of the bed, he sprawled across the mattress on his stomach to reach it.Coffee would have been better, but beggars could not be choosers.
With a second cup in his hand, he sipped it and discovered he was still happy.Last night had been fun.He hadn’t quite realized how much he had missed those fellows.In fact, until last night he had more than half-doubted that their reunion would work, that they would have to get by only on recalling old times.Which had certainly been amusing, but the old friendships and meetings of minds were still there, in matters of learning and in sheer banter.
Piers smiled.He was looking forward to the next fortnight.
Although he must make sure the party did not exhaust April.Something had to be done about the servant situation.And he must find out from her why the professor had been apologising to him about something Claudia had said.
Which reminded him, all was not quite right with Hale.Perhaps he did not wish to be a clergyman after all.And Mal Keith was storing up trouble with Meg Tilney.Fosterson needed a place to practice.Hubb needed...a break from worry.There were signs of fretting behind the man’s good nature.
Hefting himself upright, Piers poured himself a third cup of tea and pulled the bell to see what would happen.
