The lantern offered very little illumination in such a pitch-black atmosphere, but she could tell that the floor beneath her was smooth stone, the same as the walls around her. She paused, listening for any sounds of dripping water, but all was still.
She walked for a time, through various twists and turns, but finally, she found herself before a closed door with an iron ring handle that looked as though it belonged during the days when the Tudors ruled the land. She gave a strong pull on the ring and discovered it rather easy to open. It proved that this wasn’t an unknown room. It had been used, and quite recently. More proof lay inside when she found a small study with a modest desk and several bookshelves piled in disarray with ancient, leatherbound tomes and various oddities. Some looked to be sacred artifacts, while others were jars filled with what seemed to be herbs and spices. She swallowed hard, curious as to whose domain this was. Did Sir Gothry come here? Or someone else?
And for what purpose?
She glanced at the desk where charred candle remains were still smoking slightly, as if it had recently been blown out. This made her frown, but it wasn’t until she spied the quill sitting in the inkwell and an open book that was still drying from a recent hand in the middle of the controlled chaos, that she started to feel a true sense of unease.
You shouldn’t be here…
Marlene blinked, sitting straight up in bed with a gasp.
She looked about her chamber and noted that the time read almost six-thirty in the morning, and in the distance, she could see the faint glow of dawn on the horizon.
She put a hand to her head and wondered if her trip to the gallery had been nothing more than a dream. And yet, she had never had a vision that was quite so…vivid. Not in many years, at least. Not since she used to see images that no one else could. This dream was different. It was as if she was actually there, but then, how had she gotten back to her chamber? She certainly didn’t remember returning to her room, and changing into her nightdress, but somehow, she had ended up there.
She shook her head and lay back down, her arms lying flat on either side of her. There was little hope that she would be able to go back to sleep now. Her mind was racing with what she’d seen. One thing was clear, she had been led to that room by someone—or something. She just didn’t know what, or why she was being selected.
At least she could breathe a bit easier knowing that the door to her rooms was no longer locked at night.
With a shake of her head, Marlene decided it was time to rise for the day.
Chapter 3
Marlene had just left Lady Erica’s chamber later in the morning, when she encountered Sir Gothry in the hall. She started, because she hadn’t expected to see him standing so innocuously across from his aunt’s room, and yet, she could tell that he wasn’t as calm as he would like her to believe. There was a stiff set to those broad shoulders encased in a blue velvet coat, and his legs were crossed at the ankles, his silver buckle shoes gleaming almost dangerously.
Recalling that he was her superior, she quickly dipped into a curtsy. “Good day, Sir Gothry.”
His blue gaze never wavered. “I thought you might like a tour of the grounds while my aunt is resting.”
Marlene would like nothing more, but she didn’t want him to feel as though he had to entertain her. At least, that was what she hoped he was doing. She wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs. Bates had run to him the day before and suggested that he keep a close eye on her. “I shouldn’t wish to take you away from your duties—”
He pushed off the wall and walked toward her. “I think I know when I can spare a few moments.” He offered his arm to her with a lifted brow, as if challenging her to walk away.
Not wishing to upset him, she placed her arm on his. “In that case, I would be delighted.”
He smiled, but there was something about the action that unnerved Marlene, as though he was a predator toying with his prey before he went in for the kill.
Again, she cursed her wayward imagination. But it was no wonder it was taking off with her today. After the dream the night before, and the master’s sudden resurgence this morning, she was starting to question her own sanity. The truth was, there was nothing to fear. She was taking an aged house and turning it into something sinister, along with the people who resided there. It was foolish and she would do well to remember that, if it wasn’t for Sir Gothry’s generosity, she might very well be on the streets right now.
“Is there anywhere in particular you might like to go first?” he asked smoothly.
Immediately, the portrait gallery flashed before her eyes. “I’ll allow your expertise to guide the way.”
“Indeed.”
With that, they walked out into the mid-morning sunshine. She had forgotten her hat, but the day was so warm and lovely that she lifted her face to the brilliant sky. She had always enjoyed the feel of the rays on her face, whereas most ladies worried it might darken their porcelain complexions. In truth, Marlene was just grateful for a pleasant day.
The man at her side said nothing as he led her toward a glass-enclosed gazebo at the rear of the manor house. On the way there, they passed a garden in full bloom, flowers of every shape and size boxed in by a neatly trimmed hedgerow.
“You have a remarkable gardener,” she noted, entranced by the colorful view.
“All of my servants have been with me for some time and are unfailingly loyal.”
Marlene absorbed this information, wondering if there was an underlying meaning there. Another sense of unease traveled up her spine, but she refused to allow it to take root. Instead, she told herself that she was going to enjoy this light interlude, a chance to escape the darkness that threatened to haunt her ever since she’d stepped off that mail coach. It had started with the unnerving man she’d ridden with for most of the journey, and her active imagination continued to torment her here.
As Sir Gothry opened the door to the gazebo, she realized that the enclosure was more than it appeared. She turned to him in awe. “Is this an orangery?”
“It is.”
