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“I’ve not had a brother for many years, no.”
Giulia wanted to scoff, but his question rose to the surface of her thoughts. “Why am I here? Because you wrote to me.”
“I’ve done no such thing.” He had the gall to look affronted.
“It is not such an offensive accusation.” Giulia spoke calmly. “I am your niece, after all. And I did receive a letter signed by Robert Pepper begging a visit.”
She fished the missive out of her valise where it had been plopped on the floor just beside the front door and handed it over. Robert took it slowly as if it were a snake ready to strike and unfolded the paper before reading it, his eyes narrowing.
“I do not know who wrote this to you, but it was not me.” He thrust the note back to her, unbothered and unrepentant.
They stood in the foyer of the grand castle, staring at one another. Clearly the Pepper stubbornness ran strong in both of them.
He was the first to avert his gaze. “You may sleep here for the night, but I want you gone in the morning. Return to your father and explain that it was a mistake and I will have none of his offspring under my roof.” Lord Hart turned and shouted, his booming voice echoing in the cavernous room. “Wells! Wells, come!”
A scurry of footsteps preceded the butler. “Yes, m’ lord?”
“Have a room made up for the girl. You are to feed her in the morning and send her away.”
And with that, her estranged uncle strode from the foyer. It was not until she was safely deposited in a room of her own and sinking into the plush feather bed that she realized what he had said.
He did not know her father, his brother, was dead.
* * *
Despite the cold greeting and unfortunate encounter with the earl, Giulia managed a deep and restful sleep. She slept late into the morning and woke on her own with the sun shining through the window and birds fluttering by. Waking in the castle, she would have assumed she was in a fairy tale if it hadn’t been for the ever-present knot in her stomach. The earl had kicked her out, and she had nowhere to go.
Sighing, Giulia rose from the bed and splashed water on her face from the washbasin. She dressed herself, as she had for many years, and pulled her thick, frizzy hair into a coronet braid. It was the only way to style her hair that gave her a semblance of order.
Rubbing her shoulder, she winced. Her arm ached from the encounter with the door the previous evening. There was slight bruising, but aside from the soreness she was sure it would heal quickly.
Giulia closed the door to her room and stopped short. She’d been directed in the dark the evening before, and the corridor was foreign in the light of day.
She was located in the west wing, she had been told, a section of the castle that had been uninhabited for years. Finding her way to the breakfast room that Wells had pointed out on his short tour the previous evening was going to prove difficult, but not entirely impossible.
She walked in what she deemed must be the right direction until she came to a dead end. Giulia frowned, then spun and walked back the other way. She made a mental note of when she passed by her door but kept walking until she reached a fork. There was no clear way to tell which direction led to stairs or even the front of the house, so she decided to cross off incorrect lanes by process of elimination.
The entire ordeal took an inordinate amount of time, but Giulia eventually found the split staircase that led to the foyer, broken in the center by a wide landing. The adventure had given her a clear layout of the entire west wing, enticing her to explore further—if she weren’t being kicked out within the hour.
It wouldn’t do. She had nowhere to go. The only option was to come up with a solution regarding how she might stay on for a while longer; the sprout of an idea took form in her mind. It just might work.
First she would put food into her empty stomach and then she would locate her grouch of an uncle and propose her plan to him.
The scent of bacon, bread and gravy wafted into the foyer, and Giulia followed them to the breakfast room. She took a plate from a footman and moved to the sideboard, filling it with a little bit of everything. She had not eaten since the morning before and the scent of bacon was making her salivate.
“Will the earl be eating as well?” she asked the footman who pulled out her chair and helped her to sit.
“He ate hours ago, miss.”
“I see. Where might I find him?”
The footman’s gaze shifted nervously before returning to Giulia. “Our instructions are to help you on your way, miss.”
“Lovely,” she said wryly. She speared a slice of bacon and shoved it into her mouth, closing her eyes as the food filled her stomach. She could not quit her campaign yet. Swallowing another bite, she addressed the footman again. “And your name is?”
“Denny, miss.”
“Denny, I would like the opportunity to thank my gracious host before my departure. You would not deny me that, would you?”
