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‘Except that he didn’t want me.’
She dropped her chin as she murmured the words, staring at her feet for a few seconds before crouching down suddenly.
‘There a pattern here.’
‘It’s a Yorkshire rose.’ He watched the graceful sweep of her fingers across the floorboards. She was so small, so delicate, and yet there was something entrancing about her. ‘There’s one on the ceiling as well.’
‘Oh!’ She tipped her head back so that her hair fell in a heavy coil to the floor. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘I’m glad you like it. They’re all round the house if you care to look for them.’
‘How many?’
‘Fifty, perhaps. I don’t really notice them any more. Except for the maze, of course.’
‘There’s a maze?’ Her eyes seemed to catch light suddenly. ‘Can I see it?’
‘I’m afraid it’s covered with snow.’ He smiled at her obvious excitement. ‘Although we can probably see the outline from upstairs.’
He closed up the ballroom with relief and led her back to the main staircase, gripping the banister for support as he dragged his injured leg up behind him. This ought to teach him to drink to excess, he thought bitterly. His leg always hurt more afterwards, making the stairs feel like a mountain this morning. Miss Harper, however, stepped lightly alongside, neither looking away nor directly at him, yet matching his pace as if it were natural for her to move so slowly. He appreciated the gesture even if he didn’t deserve it.
‘This way.’ He turned right at the top.
‘What are these rooms?’
She gestured at the long row of doors, though he kept his gaze fixed straight ahead.
‘They’re the family rooms.’
‘Is one of them yours?’
‘Not any more.’ He jerked his head. ‘That one used to be.’
‘But why—?’ She stopped abruptly, halting mid-step and mid-sentence to stare at the door before them. ‘That’s the room you locked me in yesterday!’
‘That’s where we’re going. It has the best view of the maze.’ He turned to confront her accusing expression. ‘I won’t do it again, I promise.’
‘What about the window in this room?’ She gestured towards another door. ‘Can’t we see it from there?’
‘Yes, but that was Arthur’s room.’ His throat turned dry at the words. ‘I told you, I don’t use these rooms.’
‘Can’t we even go inside?’
‘No!’ He adjusted his tone quickly. ‘I don’t go in. I hadn’t been in the tower for ten years until yesterday, only...’
He scowled as he tried and failed to find a way to finish the sentence. Only what? Only it had seemed to suit her? He could hardly say that. He limped on to the end of the corridor instead, unlocking the door and then holding the key out towards her. ‘Here, I’ll go in first. You can take your revenge if you want.’
‘It’s tempting.’
‘Which is why I’m relying on your better nature.’
He opened the door and limped across the room. The tower had eight walls, four of which had windows, one of them with an almost perfect bird’s-eye view of the maze. If she chose to follow him, that was.
‘You can see it from here.’ He beckoned to her and she edged forward warily, looking ready to turn and run at the slightest provocation.
‘See those hedges in the shape of a flower?’ He stood to one side of the window and pointed.
‘Yes.’ She stood at the opposite edge. ‘It’s an unusual design.’
