Page 20 of Mistress of Darkness

Chapter 9

Though it had taken hours of wading through Dredthorne Hall’s payroll registers, Gwen had compiled a list of the servants that it typically employed. First came the steward to look after Robert and manage all the other servants. Clearly this was a role that Parks could fulfill. Under him, the butler was the head of the male servants, while the housekeeper supervised the women. Below them came valets and lady’s maids. Gwen’s heart had to clench at the thought of Frances’ fate. But more important than any of those positions, they needed a cook. That was to be Parks’ first priority, something on which they’d all agreed. The footmen as well as the chamber, kitchen, and scullery maids could all wait, as could the outdoor staff.

With a letter posted to her parents, another from Robert to his mother, and a list of provisions they’d need, Parks had left in her rig when the weather had cleared. Until he returned, she had decided to create a proper journal for herself.

In the secret library, she’d found an empty daybook among the used ones. Though it’d taken a bit of time to transfer her existing entries on the sheets of paper into them, she looked down on the slender leather bound book with satisfaction. Only now, seeing it here with the others, did it occur to her that she might be leaving her mark on the history of the hall. It inspired her to take pen in hand.

Dear Journal,

All of the servants, save Parks, have deserted us. Add to that the fact that Robert suffered a twisted ankle while trying to calm my horse during the morning’s storm. Yet for reasons that I cannot fathom, I do believe we are equal to the task of managing the hall.

Robert has been nothing but supportive, encouraging me to do as I like. I feel almost as if I were the actual mistress of this dark place. For the first time it seems as though I have a clear path forward.

But of all the changes that have happened here today, one in particular comes to my mind again and again. As we sat in the entry way of the hall, soaked with freezing rain, I believe Robert meant to kiss me. It was the most thrilling moment of my life. Even now, I can feel the warmth of his breath on my mouth.

She setdown her pen slowly and touched her lips with trembling fingers. What would it be like to kiss him? Would he be demanding and willful, subduing any doubts that might linger with her? Or would he be tender and full of gentle entreaties that she couldn’t resist? When she realized that she was stroking her own lips, she quickly clasped her hands together.

“Stop your nonsense,” she muttered to herself. She stood and went to the window in the adjoining dining room.

Though the storm had abated, the sky was still completely gray. Windblown leaves covered the ground, and the stark boughs and branches of winter reached for the sky. Gwen folded her arms around herself, suddenly chilled.

“Wherever you are, Regina,” she said quietly, “I hope you are safe.”

Her sister had always enjoyed this type of wild weather, though Gwen could never understand why. But as she remembered those days, when Regina had run through the rain, a thought occurred to her that made her smile. She imagined her sister on some fine adventure. Perhaps she was seeking her fortune, drifting wherever the winds would take her, laughing and living as she chose. Or perhaps she’d joined a traveling band of actors. It wasn’t an exploit that was too far out of the question, with her sister’s flair for the dramatic. Regina had always found it easy to make friends with everyone she met.

Regina had been vivacious and free-spirited. She’d been–

Gwen stopped herself. She was thinking of her sister in the past tense.

Though she hadn’t wanted to admit it, this was the worry that had burrowed deep into her soul: What if Regina was dead?

Tears burned in her eyes as she remembered the outlandish girl who snuck out during the night to go dancing with her friends; the girl who’d run barefoot; the girl so full of life that she simply couldn’t be dead.

She’d been envious of her sister, something she had to admit now. When her father had announced Regina’s betrothal to Christopher, it’d broken her heart. She’d always dreamt that they two would get married in the same ceremony, but how could Gwen marry Robert when her sister married his brother?

Gwen shook her head. It did no good to tread over old ground, no good at all. She cast a look back into the secret library. The journals always took her mind off her troubles. She hurried back to them and picked up one in which she’d placed a book mark. It was Mrs. Thorne’s.

Dear Journal –

During this last month I’ve begun to see shadows in the halls. I know that it’s Miss Wilson, come to steal Mr. Thorne from me. I see her hair whipping around corners, hiding her from my staring eyes. She haunts the hall with every step she takes. She’s taking him away from me, and I am coming to realize that I must do something about this, lest I lose him forever.

He’s going away on a trip for his businesses soon, to London. Is he taking her with him? Is he taking me with him? I can feel the fear creeping up my skin like so many spiders. I have heard nothing but whispers from the servants that scuttle along the hallways with the mice, so quiet, waiting for me. There is one passage in particular that brings me to the kitchen that I like to listen at, to find out such things.

I am hunting like the spiders that I see in the hallways. I hunt for knowledge, for wisdom. I will find out what is happening in my home.

* * *

Barely feeling his ankle,Robert paced restlessly in his library at the thought of his vanished brother. But it wasn’t his brother’s fate that worried him now, but his own.

How dare Christopher leave him here alone with Gwen?

When he’d stood with her in the kitchen and her dress had brushed his legs, it’d taken every ounce of self-control within him not to grasp her about the waist. Even though she’d worn the cook’s apron, she’d never looked lovelier. When they’d sat at breakfast, it’d been as if they’d done so as a married couple, so comfortable in each other’s company.

Whatever came their way, they seemed up to the task. Where he lacked, she excelled. Where she was inexperienced, he had the practical knowledge.

Didn’t his brother know that every moment he spent with the woman was utter torture? He’d come here to accept Gwen’s message on behalf of Christopher, and nothing more. Yet here he was, trying to charm the woman of his dreams, determined that he would win her over.

Something deep within his soul said the one thing he dare not speak out loud: Gwen must be his wife.

As he’d watched his brother’s infatuation for Regina grow, he’d never had the courage to speak of his own. Instead, he had been a royal ass to Gwen, barely tolerating her presence because he was too afraid to say what was in his heart. It had taken Christopher’s engagement to Regina to make him realize what a mistake he’d made.

But he would set that to rights, before their stay at Dredthorne Hall was over, he’d set that to rights.