She released a huffed breath as the braid unraveled.
“Sorry.” My mind raced with an idea. “He does seem rather protective of me. He is always sending servants to ensure I am well—that I’m eating, drinking, and being tended to.”
Eliza nodded slowly, a hint of dread in her gaze. “Yer not thinking to do something dangerous again?”
I bit my lip. “I have been rather curious about the south wing. I was told it was burned in a fire, and that the structureis no longer sound, but I have noticed servants passing through the door that leads to it. I have even noticed Jonathan passing through.”
Eliza’s gaze lowered to the floor.
I gasped. “You know something!”
“Nothin’ I’m permitted to say.” She tried to pick up my hair again, but I jerked my head away.
“Is there some sort of secret hidden in the south wing?” I gasped as Eliza’s expression betrayed her. “I cannot believe that I simply accepted the explanation about the fire! It seemed quite reasonable at the time.” My heart thudded. “I think I know how I might capture my husband’s attention.”
“No. I know what yer thinkin.’” Eliza shook her head fast. She had grown far too comfortable with me during the past ten days. Before coming to Southcliff Manor, she had already had a weakness for speaking her mind. Now it was nothing short of a habit.
“Is it actually dangerous?” I asked.
She fell silent.
A frustrated sigh bubbled up in my chest, but I didn’t let it escape. Even Eliza had to listen to what Jonathan told her. He was her employer, and there was nothing I could do about it.
“Never mind, then,” I said. “I shall retire my curiosity on the subject.” I held still, allowing Eliza to braid my hair in calm silence. I couldn’t have her thinking that I was devising a plan in my head.
She gave me a suspicious look in the mirror but finished my braid without any further conversation. And then she left me there in my bedchamber with a candle and pot of tea. Shadows flickered off the walls—and off the sly look I gave myself in the mirror. “I am going to discover what he’s hiding in the south wing,” I said aloud.
I had grown far too comfortable with my own company. Conversing with myself would become a very strange habit if I didn’t manage to convince my husband to remember that I existed. I wasn’t asking that he consider me a friend, or a wife in the traditional sense of the word. All I wanted was to have one polite acquaintance. If Jonathan caught me sneaking around the south wing, he might wish to start a fight or argument.
I wanted that. It was better than no conversation at all.
My heart thudded as I stood from my vanity chair. I threw a spencer jacket over my white nightdress for a little more modesty, taking a quick glance at the full-length mirror near my bed. It would have to suffice. At this hour of the night, I suspected that Jonathan would be in his study, reading ledgers or whatever it was he did for hours behind that door. Perhaps he would be drinking an evening glass of brandy, reading a book, or even smoking a pipe. In truth, I hadn’t the slightest idea of what he did while he was busy avoiding me, so all I could do was guess.
Taking my candle from the nightstand, I made my way out to the corridor. My north wing connected to the main area of the house in one long corridor with a door at the end.
The south wing was identical, though I had never seen what was behind the door.
But first, I needed to make Jonathan suspicious. I paused near the staircase, peeking down over the railing. In the vestibule below, two footman and a maid still lingered. It was not late enough for the servants to have retired for the evening, and neither was it late enough forJonathanto retire. He was awake somewhere, and all his loyal servants would be sure to inform him if I was up to any mischief.Good, because I most certainly was.
With one hand on the banister, I made my elegant descent of the staircase, drawing the attention of the three servantsdown below. The study was on the ground floor, just around the corner. A light flickered from beneath the door. Using the lofty ceiling and marble floors of the vestibule to my advantage, each of my words would be sure to echo toward Jonathan’s ears.
“I have been quite curious about something,” I said in a loud voice as my feet touched the black and white checkered floor. The maid glanced in my direction. She didn’t seem certain that I was addressing her, but she gave a quick curtsy anyway, tucking the feather duster she held behind her skirts.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Why have repairs not been made on the south wing?” I asked. “It seems wasteful to leave such a large section of the house damaged. I should like to take a look and determine if restoring it seems possible.”
The maid blanched, just as I had expected. She exchanged a glance with the nearest footman, whose eyes widened beneath the white curls of his wig.
“Will you give me a brief tour?” I asked.
“I-I’m afraid we cannot, ma’am.” The footman cleared his throat. “I trust you have been informed of the master’s request?—”
“Very well.” I waved a hand through the air with a smile. “I shall go explore it myself.” I didn’t waste a moment before starting toward the staircase. I made it to the top before I heard the study door open from the floor below.
My heart pounded.
I kept my gaze forward as I marched past the library, another sitting room, and the portrait gallery. A large oak door marked the entrance to the south wing. The pristine condition of the door did not answer any of my questions. If it were true that a fire had destroyed that side of the house, then the door would have been replaced to hide the damage.
