Page 9 of Mistress of Darkness

Robert knelt beside the wooden chair, examining it carefully, and frowned. “The back legs of the chair have snapped.”

“You could have been killed,” Gwen declared. She could see it all now in her mind’s eye—the blood spattered against the hearth, his head dashed open against the stone. Shuddering, she put a hand to her mouth.

He stood and took her hand, patting it gently. His hand was so warm, and she found that she relaxed instantly at its touch.

“I’m fine, Gwen,” he said softly. “I promise. Just bruised pride and a small reminder of my mortality.” He turned to one of the serving maids. “Fetch Parks, please.”

His valet reported immediately and looked horrified. “Sir, what happened?” He rushed to Robert’s side, kneeling down to examine the chair.

“It looks,” Robert said and hesitated, glancing at Gwen. “It looks as though the wood has been sawed through. Do you have any explanation for this?”

Gwen felt herself go pale, but stood up straight as she waited for Parks’ answer.

“No, sir,” he replied gravely. “I’ll question the other servants to see if anyone has seen anything strange.”

Gwen’s hand began to shake and Robert held it tighter.

“Good,” he replied. As Parks picked up the chair and was about to leave, Robert stopped him. “Check the rest of the chairs as well.”

“Very good, sir,” he said, and bowed before leaving.

“Robert?” Gwen heard herself whisper.

“Yes, Gwen?”

“What did you say about this hall being haunted?”