She crossed her ankles under cover of her skirts, then recrossed them. She twiddled her thumbs, avoiding his gaze, but the silence stretched on for so long a bead of sweat gathered in the tightly bound hair at her nape and slid down the back of her neck. Finally, she glanced up at him, unable to bear the quiet another moment, and found him staring at her from the other side of his desk.
Cecilia returned the stare, cocking her head. It was a great pity his eyes were such a cold blue, because with those long, dark lashes they werequite stunning.
She blinked, surprised at herself.
“This glowing reference from Lady Dunton.” Lord Darlington drew the page toward him across the desk, his gaze once again flicking over the signature. “If I were to contact her ladyship regarding your service, she’d verify every word written here. Is that right, Miss Gilchrist?”
Lady Dunton was one of the Clifford School’s aristocratic, silent patrons. Not one word of the reference she’d written for Cecilia was true, but her ladyship would swear to Lord Darlington it was. So, Cecilia opened her mouth, and pushed another lie between her lips. “Of course, my lord.”
Once again, he didn’t reply right away, just gazed at her with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Cecilia was losing heart, her faith in her ability to convince him waning with every moment, but just as she’d given it up for lost, Lord Darlington spoke.
“I don’t like liars, and I care even less for gossip and strangers prying into my private affairs. My servants are loyal to me, and they know better than to gossip. If I find you’ve carried any tales outside my home, I will dismiss you instantly, without references. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my lord.” Cecilia gulped, both relief and dread pooling in her stomach. He was going to let her stay on as housemaid, but being his housemaid meant living at Darlington Castle under the cold, watchful eye of Lord Darlington, who seemed to have taken an immediatedislike to her.
He looked hard at her, then gave a short nod. “It won’t be an easy post. I’ve lived in retirement for the past year, and the castle has been closed to guests. We’re short on staff, and a great deal of work is yet to be done before my betrothed arrives in Kent in a fortnight. You’ll be treated fairly, but you’ll be expectedto work hard.”
Cecilia had never been afraid of hard work. That is, she’d never worked as a housemaid before, but it couldn’t be any more difficult than mudlarking in the Thames, and she’d survived that for more than two years.“Yes, my lord.”
“I suppose we’ll find out how sturdy you are, won’t we, Miss Gilchrist?”
Heat rose in Cecilia’s cheeks, but instead of snapping that she was far sturdier than he’d ever imagine, she wisely kept her mouth closed.
That dark eyebrow quirked once again at her silence. “Just one more thing, Miss Gilchrist. You are not, under any circumstances, to enter my late wife’s bedchamber. It’s kept locked at all times, so as not to tempt the curious, but it’s crucial all of my servants understand no one enters that room without my explicit permission.”
Well, that was strange. Cecilia couldn’t help but wonder what Lord Darlington intended to do with the future Marchioness of Darlington if she wasn’t meant to take up residence in the marchioness’s apartments, but it didn’t seem a good idea to ask.
“If you disobey me in this, you will be dismissed and sent from the castle immediately. Is that clear?” Lord Darlington leaned across the desk, pinning herwith his gaze.
“Yes, my lord.” They were the only three words Cecilia was still capable of uttering in his presence, it seemed.
“Very well.” Lord Darlington rose from his chair—and rose, and rose, and rose, his long body seeming to take ages to unfold—and pulled the bell once again. Cecilia stumbled to her feet as well, and the two of them stared at each other in silence as they waited for Mrs. Briggs to answer the summons.
Fortunately, she bustled into the study again in a matter of moments. “All right then, Lord Darlington? Come with me, Cecilia. We’ll drop off your case upstairs, then have a cup of tea in the kitchens and get to know one another, shall we?”
For the first time since she’d entered Darlington Castle, Cecilia was able to draw a deep, calming breath. If Mrs. Briggs had been half as alarming as Lord Darlington, Cecilia likely would have taken to her heels and fled all the way back to Edenbridge, but the housekeeper was a matronly creature, with deep laugh lines fanning out from her kind brown eyes.
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, my lord.” Cecilia offered Lord Darlington an awkward curtsy. His only response was a brief nod of his head, but those frigid blue eyes were enough to pucker the skin on the back of her neck.
Mrs. Briggs prattled cheerfully as she led Cecilia down the hallway. “Lord Darlington ordered the upper floor of the castle closed, there not being enough servants left to tend to it, so you’ll have a bedchamber on thesecond floor.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cecilia hurried after Mrs. Briggs, her traveling case bumping against her knees with every step.
“It’s not a large room,” Mrs. Briggs went on. “It was intended for the marchioness’s lady’s maid, but you’ll have it all to yourself. Won’tthat be nice?”
It was unheard of for a mere housemaid to have a room to herself, so Cecilia took care to make all the appropriate appreciative noises, but as they made their way down the hallway, her attention was caught by the portraits hanging on the wall. One dour Darlington ancestor after another glared down at her from their ornate gilt frames. They were a grim-looking lot, not a smile amongst them, and the current Marquess of Darlington seemed to take after his forbears. He certainly looked a good deal like them, with his guarded blue eyes andsevere mouth.
Cecilia’s heart sank at the thought.
Between Lord Darlington’s harsh demeanor and the row of his forbidding ancestors hanging on the wall, she couldn’t shake the feeling she’d just accepted a post from Bluebeard himself.
Chapter Four
Gideon awoke the next morning to a thundering crash so powerful his bed—an enormous, solid mahogany affair with a towering canopy and enough heavy silk drapery to drown Darlington Castle—jumped half a foot across the floor.
“What thedevil?” He shot upright so quickly a pillow tumbled to the floor, wide awake in an instant. The noise had exploded in the quiet room with such an ear-splitting bang the thick, stone walls of the castle actually vibrated. Had the heavens run out of patience with him at last and struck his castle with a lightning bolt, or had the roof of Darlington Castle collapsed?
“Oh, dear.” The voice was small in the sudden silence.
