Cyrus looked back at his bride, frowning as if he had forgotten she was there. “Yes, this is the new Duchess. Show her to her chambers, make sure she does not get lost in the castle, and furnish her with whatever she needs.”
Swallowing thickly, Teresa waited for her husband to introduce the servants in return, but he was already walking off through the yawning arch of a hallway, vanishing a moment later into the dark.
Am I meant to follow?
She hesitated, her anxious gaze flitting between the hallway and the whispering servants.
“He will undoubtedly see you at dinner, Your Grace,” the red-haired woman said quickly, offering a friendly smile. “I’m Belinda, housekeeper of this drafty old place, though I can’t deny this castle does as it pleases, refusing my attempts to make an honorable manor of it.”
Still confused by her husband’s curt dismissal, it took Teresa a moment to realize that Belinda was making a joke. And when she managed to laugh, it echoed hollow.
“I’m not much of a jester,” Belinda admitted with a grin, “but I hope to have you laughing properly soon enough. We’ve been so excited to meet you. When we received word that His Grace was bringing home a bride—oh, we were beside ourselves! Weren’t we, eh?”
The group of servants chuckled and nodded, lavishing Teresa with nothing but the friendliest, most welcoming smiles and shy greetings.
“But I understand that this castle can be overwhelming,” Belinda continued, hesitating for a second before she went ahead and took Teresa’s hand, patting it gently. “Allof it must be overwhelming. I can see you’re a little unsteady, a little bewildered, so why don’t I take you up to your chambers while one of these fine folks fetches you a nice tea tray, eh? The cook baked some cake this morning, so buttery and sweet you won’t be able to do anything but smile and sigh at the perfection of it.”
Teresa nodded slowly. “I… would like that, thank you.”
“Come on, then,” Belinda said, weaving Teresa’s hand through her arm. “I hope you don’t mind me being bold, Your Grace, but I wouldn’t want you to lose your footing, so I’ll keep tight hold of you until we’re on steadier territory.”
“Thank you,” Teresa repeated, meaning it.
If she was going to be so far from home, bound to a husband who had already abandoned her, then the least she could do for her sanity was stay close to those who were kind and warm and inviting… and eat as much cake as her heart desired.
As she began to make her way up a sweeping staircase, treading carefully on the stones that had been polished to a slippery smoothness by decades—perhaps centuries—of feet, her curiosity caught up to her.
“Belinda, may I ask a question?”
The housekeeper laughed. “Mercy, you don’t have to ask me if you can ask a question. You’re the Duchess of Darnley. Mistress of this castle.”
“Right, of course.” Heat rushed into Teresa’s face, for the new title was something of an ill-fitting gown, not yet acquainted with her measurements. “It is just that I… Well, I was wondering if you could tell me what happened to the farthest section of the castle? The part with the blackened tower. The… ruined part, if that is not an impolite description.”
The housekeeper’s merry smile tightened. “Oh, just time. It happens in places like this, but I hope you’ll find the intact part of this castle as nice as the rest of us do.” Her throat bobbed. “Indeed, Your Grace, it’s best to think of that other part as nothing more than a relic.”
Nodding cordially, Teresa wondered if the housekeeper was aware of the subtle change in her expression, like a child lookingaway while telling a lie, or if it had been entirely involuntary. Either way, Teresa’s curiosity wasnot atallsatisfied.
Thereissomething amiss, and as I am going nowhere and am unlikely to have my husband to keep me occupied, I intend to find out what it is.
CHAPTER TEN
Cyrus did not join Teresa for dinner, leaving the kind servants to try and entertain her through four delicious courses that she had barely managed to eat. She had attempted to search for him afterward, but no one seemed to know where he was, and her efforts to find him alone had left her lost and disoriented in the maze of the castle hallways.
Eventually, she had retired to her chambers, dressing for bed, but unable to think about falling asleep.
Tonight is our wedding night…
The thought circled around and around in her head at a dizzying speed, prompting her to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace, by the window, between the window and the door, around the bed, watching the clock on the mantelpiece every few minutes. It was almost midnight.
“Where is he?” she murmured, wishing she had a book to distract herself, but her belongings had not yet arrived.
As for the romantic adventures of Captain Frostheart and Miss Savage, she had left Prudence with strict instructions to send the new chapters on to her, just as soon as they were delivered. For it would likely be the only romance she would receive.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, smoothing invisible creases from the skirt of her nightgown, she considered heading back downstairs to see if she might get some warm milk from the kitchens. Or something stronger. Maybe, she would find Cyrus down there too.
Just then, a sound pricked her ears. The rusty squeak of a door opening and the thud of it closing again, somewhere nearby.
The servants’ quarters are in a different wing…
