“So help repair roofs.”
He stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”
“She dislikes you because you neglected your tenants. I can hardly argue with her. Offer to help the tenants and see if that earns you her goodwill.”
His mother had a point, as usual. “Do you think she cares about the tenants more than painting?”
“It seems to me she is quite intent on doing whatever she can to help Carlisle Hall’s tenant farmers. She would probably be out repairing fences if she could.”
“The problem, Mama, is that I don’t know how to repair roofs or fences, or any of the other sorts of things these farmers might need.”
“You need to track down your steward and force him to do his job. Lady Katherine has mentioned numerous times that she has not seen him and is looking for him. In the meantime, make an effort.”
“Do you really believe she will agree to let me search the library if I offer to help the tenants?”
“I think it’s worth making the suggestion.”
*
Fourteen hours later,Henry paused on the roof of Carlisle Hall and tried to catch his breath. He should have done more breaking and entering in his misspent youth. If he had, he might not balk every time he looked down at the ground. He took a shaky breath and turned slowly to the window. He’d go in, makeLady Katherine see reason, and then climb down again. He’d never have to do this again. The next time he saw Edith, he’d have to ask how she had managed it so many times—and in skirts!
Henry moved shakily to the window. He tugged on it as he had before, but it didn’t budge. He tugged again.
Nothing.
Had she done something to secure the latch? He should have been able to wobble it and pull the window open. One good thing about old houses was that they were falling apart, and no one bothered to fix broken latches. The latch on this window had been faulty when he was a boy, which was why Edith had so little trouble coming and going that way.
Henry tried the latch again. Nothing. The drapes were closed, so he couldn’t see in the room. Should he tap on the window?
He turned and looked at his other option—climb back down without achieving his goal for tonight.
Henry turned back to the window and jumped at the face in the glass. For a moment, he thought the witch had found him again. But this face was surrounded by dark hair, not white. Henry blew out a sigh of relief and gestured for Katie to open the window. She shook her head.
Henry gestured again.
Katie shook her head again.
Henry put his hands together in a gesture of prayer.
Katie shook her head again, seemingly more reluctant.
Henry lowered to his knees and lifted his hands in prayer again. Just as he did so, he lost his balance and swayed backward. For a moment, he thought he might fall, but he pinwheeled his arms and caught himself. He leaned forward to use the structure of the house for stability, and the window swung open and hit him in the forehead.
“Oof!” He was swaying backward again.
“Oh, no. I’m sorry!” A hand caught his flailing one, and the strong grip pulled him closer to the window and back to safety.
His vision cleared, and Katie took both his hands and helped him crawl through the window. Henry sank onto the floor. He’d never before been so glad to be inside Carlisle Hall.
“You have to stop climbing onto the roof,” she chided. “You’ll be killed.”
“I know,” he said, and looked up at her. “For a moment there, I thought that was the end.” He lifted a hand, which trembled violently. Katie knelt beside him, took his hand in both of hers, and held them tightly. Henry willed his heart to stop hammering.
“You’re safe now. Take a deep breath.”
He tried, but his breath hitched. “I’m sorry. Give me a moment.”
“Don’t apologize.”
