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‘I... No reason.’ Susanna’s expression seemed to freeze again.
‘I won’t repeat anything you tell me.’
‘Well...’ The maid hesitated for a second before the words seemed to tumble out in a rush. ‘Because of Sir Ralph. He has such a wicked reputation, my lady. They tell all the girls in the village to avoid him if they can.’
‘Oh!’ Constance was so shocked, she hardly knew how to answer. ‘Have you ever needed to be careful?’
‘Me? Oh, no.’ Susanna shook her head. ‘I’m good at keeping out of the way. And he hasn’t been half so bad since he married Lady Adelaide last summer, the poor woman. Oh!’ She clamped a hand to her mouth, as if realising she’d just said more than she’d intended. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m always talking too much. Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to lose my position.’
‘You won’t.’ Constance smiled reassuringly. ‘I’m glad that you told me and I won’t say anything, I promise.’
‘Thank you.’ The maid breathed an audible sigh of relief. ‘Can I help you with anything else before I go?’
‘No, I can manage the rest, thank you.’
Constance waited until the door had closed before peeling off her undergarments and scrubbing herself down with rose water, wishing that she could wash away what Susanna had told her as easily. Not that Sir Ralph was likely to be any threat to her, but just the thought of living in close quarters with such a man was repugnant. Did Matthew know about his father’s behaviour? It seemed unlikely, given that he’d been away for the past five years, unless it had been going on for longer. And she couldn’t say anything now that she’d just promised Susanna...
In any case, she had no intention of hiding herself away as if she were afraid of her new father-in-law. If Matthew had gone out then she could go and find him herself. At the very least, she could explore the castle a little.
She finished her ablutions, brushing her teeth and combing and braiding her hair before selecting a fresh green tunic and matching surcoat from her chest and dressing quickly before she could lose her nerve. Then she ventured out into the gallery and down the stairwell.
Contrary to her expectations, the hall below was deserted. Fresh rushes had been laid out on the floor, giving the room a heavy, pungent aroma, but aside from a few hunting dogs stretched out in front of the hearth, there was no sign of the castle’s inhabitants.
She argued with her conscience for a moment and then turned and went back up the stairs, pausing briefly at the top to work out which way was east, before making her way slowly towards a door at the far end of the gallery. She waited a few moments, listening for sounds within, then rapped on the wood with her knuckles, waited a bit longer and then, when there was no answer, twisted the handle and pushed it open.
Her first reaction was one of amazement. Sir Ralph had surely understated things, calling it the second-best chamber when it was hard to imagine anywhere more beautiful. In truth, it was the most spectacular room she’d ever seen, large and high-ceilinged with an elaborately decorated mural of gold and red painted birds on one wall, another of blue and white flowers opposite and a carved oak bed with red velvet curtains in the centre. To her eyes, it was a room fit for royalty and yet Matthew had reacted as if he’d been offered a cold, dark dungeon instead.
She didn’t linger, closing the door softly behind her and making her way back along the gallery, wondering what it was he could have objected to. His reaction had seemed somewhat extreme at the time, but now it made no sense at all.
She was so engrossed in thought that she almost walked past a small corridor that led off from the main gallery towards another archway. She’d missed it before, too, but now she was glad of the distraction, following it towards another small stairwell that led upwards. Curious now, she lifted her gown around her ankles and started climbing, higher and higher until she found herself out on the roof of the keep.
A gust of cool air hit her in the face and she drew in a deep breath, glad to be outside again. Despite its opulence, there was something stifling about the atmosphere of the keep itself. Up here in the open she could feel her mind start to clear and her tension ease again. Fortunately there were no guards either so she had the space completely to herself as she made her way towards the chest-high wall that ran around the edge and folded her arms on top, tilting her face up to let the sun warm her skin. It was a strange sensation after so many weeks of grey weather and she savoured the feeling, even the contrasting chill of the breeze that tore at her headdress and pulled tendrils of hair loose around her face.
The view beyond the castle was magnificent, taking in the hills they’d crossed the day before as well as the low coastlands to the east. That was the direction of Lacelby, the home that had once been hers, albeit briefly, now a part of the Wintour family estate. No doubt Sir Ralph controlled every bit of land she could see. Of course, she was a Wintour now, too, which made Lacelby hers again in a way, except that being a part of such a family didn’t seem like such an appealing prospect...
There was shouting below and she stood on her tiptoes to see what the commotion was about. Her view was partially obscured by the slightly shorter walls of the inner bailey, but from a distance it looked as though a cart laden with hay had dropped half of its load across the main thoroughfare through the castle and a crowd had gathered to jeer at the unfortunate driver. Constance shook her head in sympathy and let her gaze drift past, taking in the vast expanse of the outer bailey.
It was like a town in itself, a hive of activity with an assorted collection of houses and workshops, as well as a sizeable stables and exercise yard and several thatched buildings that looked like storerooms. Meanwhile, the inner bailey was even more impressive with a pond and herb garden in one corner as well as a small area of lawn bordered by what looked like rows of vegetables. Just below the keep was a building that could have been a granary and beyond that, set slightly apart, were two stone-roofed edifices that she presumed were the kitchens and brewery. As she watched, a group of women emerged carrying baskets and trays and she smiled at the familiarity of the scene. At least there was nothing sinister there, just ordinary people going about their daily lives. Maybe she was letting her imagination run away with her after all...
She was about to move away when she caught a glimpse of familiar copper-blond hair below. Matthew? She lifted a hand to wave, smiling to think that she’d found him without even leaving the keep and then lowered it again, struck by a prickling sensation on the back of her neck, accompanied by the conviction that something wasn’t quite right. He was talking to another man, but the way they were standing, close together in the shadows of the gatehouse that separated the inner and outer baileys, struck her as faintly clandestine. Even from a distance, she could see that their expressions were serious, giving the distinct impression that, whatever they were talking about, they didn’t want to be seen or disturbed. It was like the scene in her uncle’s hall again, only this time she was in full view. Instinctively, she took a step backwards, trying to move out of sight, but the movement disturbed a flock of birds on the wall beside her and their sudden, energetic flurry caused both men to look up.
Her eyes locked with Matthew’s and she froze, shocked by the instantaneous look of horror that seemed to flood over his face. It was the exact same expression he’d worn when his father had mentioned the east chamber, only to have it focused on her made her feel distinctly guilty, as if he’d somehow guessed where she’d just been. But he couldn’t have. She’d only peeked inside the room for a few seconds and no one had seen her. Which meant that he was horrified about something else, but what? It wasn’t as if she was doing anything wrong. All she was doing was standing on a roof!
He started forward abruptly, abandoning the other man without a word and sprinting towards the keep steps. She moved, too, guilt turning to dread as she spun away from the wall and towards the centre of the roof, fighting the urge to flee. Not that fleeing would do any good. She didn’t know the castle well enough to hide and, besides, she had no intention of hiding from her husband. She was only standing on a roof, for pity’s sake! The door at the top of the stairwell hadn’t been locked and no one had forbidden her from coming up. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Even if the look on Matthew’s face said otherwise...
‘Constance?’ He burst on to the roof in a shorter time than she would have thought possible, his face ashen despite the fact that he must have run all the way. ‘Come away.’
‘Why?’ She looked around, searching for some sign of peril, but everything looked perfectly safe.
‘Just come away.’ His voice sounded strained as if he were forcing the words out. ‘What are you doing up here?’
‘I was admiring the view.’ What else would she be doing? ‘Matthew, what’s the matter?’
A brief look of relief seemed to pass over his features before he reached a hand out, beckoning her towards him. ‘Come here.’
‘I don’t understand why...’
‘Come!’
