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‘Aye, well.’ There was a third sniff. ‘Here’s your room, then.’
Violet approached the door with a new and invigorating feeling of triumph. There! At least she’d stood up for herself that time, just as she’d tried to stand up for herself earlier. She wasn’t going to be criticised by Mrs Gargrave any more than she was going to be intimidated by Captain Amberton, though she didn’t exactly feel as if she’d bested him. On the contrary, she’d got herself locked in a tower. For all his talk of protecting her, deep down he was no better than her father, assuming that she’d simply do what she was told.
At least he’d finally relented and let her out again. That was one small victory. Now she just had to stand firm and keep on refusing to marry him. Her capture was a setback, not the end to her hopes of freedom. Even if her reputation was ruined, she could still find her own way in the world. Once he realised that she wasn’t going to give in then he’d have to let her go. Either that or the month would expire. Not that she’d be there for so long, surely. Once Ianthe found out where she was then she and her husband Robert would come to her rescue for certain... She only hoped it wouldn’t take them too long.
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that it took her a moment to realise that she was inside a new room, a cosy, candlelit chamber decorated in tones of cream and pale yellow, with a few solitary sticks of furniture and a large bay window overlooking what she presumed was the back of the house. A fire was already roaring in the grate, illuminating a curtained and canopied four-poster bed, where a maid was busily turning down the covers.
‘This is my bedroom?’ Violet looked around in amazement, half suspecting it to be some kind of trick. It was hard to imagine a greater contrast to the room she’d just left. Or to her old bedroom in Whitby for that matter. ‘It’s lovely.’
‘I won’t have it said that we don’t know how to look after guests.’ The housekeeper folded her arms emphatically. ‘No matter how badly the master behaves. Or anyone else, for tha
t matter.’
‘It’s all ready, Mrs Gargrave.’ The maid, a curly-haired girl in her teens, bobbed a curtsy in front of them.
‘Very good, Eliza. Now I expect that Miss Harper would like some tea. Isn’t that so, Miss Harper?’
‘Very much, thank you, but might I ask, where is Captain Amberton?’
‘In the drawing room, though I doubt he’s in any fit state to be seen. He usually isn’t in the evenings. Martin, that’s his manservant, looks after him.’
‘Is that the man who was with him earlier?’
‘Aye. He came back from Canada with him. Some kind of retainer from the army, apparently, though he keeps pretty much to himself. He deals with the worst of the captain’s behaviour, though he won’t have a word said against him.’
‘Why not?’
‘You’d have to ask him. Or the master, though I wouldn’t advise it, not tonight. You’d do best to keep to your room, miss.’
‘You mean he’s been drinking?’ Violet wrinkled her brow in distaste. ‘I thought he had earlier.’
‘Aye, well.’ The housekeeper’s expression wavered slightly, as if she were about to say something and then changed her mind. ‘As to that, I couldn’t say. He’s the master and an Amberton, whatever else he is. I won’t be accused of disloyalty, no matter how much he deserves it. Now, as you can see, I’ve unpacked your bag.’
‘Thank you...’ Violet glanced across to the dresser ‘...but I’ve no intention of staying here beyond tonight.’
The older woman drew herself upright, sucking in a long breath as if she were trying to lift her ribcage as high as possible. ‘I was told the wedding was still going ahead.’
‘Then I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed. I’ve no intention of marrying anyone, especially not Captain Amberton. I intend to return to Whitby as soon as possible.’
‘Without a chaperon again, I suppose?’
Violet regarded the housekeeper steadily. Judging by her tone, Mrs Gargrave held her at least partially responsible for her own situation. Well, the old Violet might have accepted that, might have shrunk inside herself at the implied accusation. The new Violet wasn’t going to shrink from anything any more.
‘Why do I get the feeling you don’t approve of me, Mrs Gargrave?’
‘It’s not my place to have an opinion.’
‘Really?’ She lifted an eyebrow sceptically. She had the distinct impression that the housekeeper had a great deal of opinions, most of them negative. ‘But if I wanted to know? If I asked you what you thought of me?’
‘Very well, then, since you asked, I don’t approve of any woman who flouts her father’s wishes and runs away from home on her own. It’s a disgrace! In my day, girls did as they were told.’
‘I see. Then it might interest you to know that I’ve spent twenty-three years doing almost everything I was told.’
‘That’s as may be...’
‘I went out once a week in my father’s company. I had no other family, very few acquaintance and even fewer friends. I was told what to do, where to go, what to wear and even what to eat. Now I believe I’ve earned the right to make a few decisions of my own, including who I do or don’t want to marry.’
‘It’s still not right for an unmarried woman to stay in a house with an unmarried man on her own.’
