Castle of Secrets (22 page)

‘Miss Fairdean
doesn’t seem to be afraid of you,’ she remarked.

The mask had
given her courage, and she found she could say things to him that would have
been unthinkable in her housekeeper’s clothes.

He raised his
eyebrows, but replied: ‘You are wrong. She is. But she is also avaricious and
she fancies herself as the mistress of a castle, so she hides her fear deep. If
she ever found herself alone with me, she would repent her bargain. Whereas you
. . .’

‘ . . . have
my reputation to protect, and would never be alone with a gentleman,’ she said.

‘No?’ he
asked. His eyes glittered, and she felt her own widen in response.

‘No,’ she
said, though her breathing became shallow.

‘Perhaps you
are wise. Temptation is a terrible thing. But you’re not eating,’ he said,
abruptly changing the conversation.

He took a
plate and began to put some of the choicest food on it.

‘I am not
hungry,’ she said.

‘You must have
something. I am your host. I insist. Try a sugared almond. They are very good.’

He picked one
up and held it up to her lips. She took it into her mouth, tasting the sweet
sugar and the nutty flavour, and alongside it she tasted the saltiness of his
skin. She had an almost overwhelming urge to taste more, but she jerked her
head away before she could give in to temptation.

‘I am looking
forward to
midnight
,’ he said softly.

Helena
thought with relief,
I
will not be here at
midnight
. When the rest of the guests unmask, I will be safely
in the kitchen, dressed in my housekeeper’s clothes
.

‘My lord, at
last!’ came a voice at their side. ‘I have been looking for you everywhere. I
am sure you remember that I promised to introduce you to my niece when last we
met. Talia, make your curtsey to his lordship. She is staying with us for a
while, your lordship, and we are very glad to have her with us. Such a good
girl! Such pretty manners. Now, now, child, don’t blush.’

The poor young
girl had gone scarlet, and was looking at Lord Torkrow with a mixture of fear
and awe.

He replied
politely: ‘Miss Winson. It is good of you to come. I hope you are enjoying your
first costume ball.’

As the girl
mumbled a reply,
Helena
slipped away and went into the ballroom. A young man dressed as a knight asked
for her hand and led her to safety out on to the floor. She began to talk of
the splendour of the castle and mentioned Mrs Carlisle, but her partner could
shed no light on Mrs Carlisle’s disappearance. He was far more interested in
trying to discover
Helena
’s
identity.
Helena
parried his questions
easily, but she did not learn anything of use.

She went out
into the hall when the dance was over, hoping that she would learn more from
his lordship’s female guests. They might have heard something from their own
servants, or have made enquiries if they wanted to hire Mrs Carlisle
themselves.

‘Lord Torkrow
will never marry her,’ she heard a young woman saying. The young woman had a
clumsy build, and was dressed unbecomingly as Joan of Arc. ‘She’s been setting
her cap at his lordship for the last three years, but he’s never so much as
looked at her. I cannot think why she wants to attract him. He makes me shiver.
There’s something in his eyes – he’s a cold man.’

No
, thought
Helena
, remembering the flash in
his eye as he had fed her the almond.
He’s far from cold
.

‘He wasn’t so
cold with his sister-in-law,’ said another woman who was dressed as Maid
Marion.

‘Shhhh,’ said
the Amazon next to her.

‘Why?’ asked
Maid Marion belligerently. ‘I’m only saying what everyone knows.’

‘I don’t know
it,’ said a young woman dressed as a Greek goddess.

‘Better not
say anything more,’ said Nell Gwyn.

‘I want to
know,’ said the goddess. ‘Was he in love with his sister-in-law? Is that what
you mean? I never heard that.’

Helena
recalled the expression
she had seen on his face when she had seen him in the secret room, looking at
his sister-in-law’s portrait.

‘Why do you
think she was running out to meet him that night – the night she died - when he
came home from a neighbouring ball? She couldn’t go to it with him, it would
have made a scandal, but everyone knew they were in love with each other. She
couldn’t wait to see him and she went to him the moment he returned to the
castle. They were lovers. Everyone knows it.’

‘No!’ said the
goddess.

‘Everyone
knows no such thing,’ retorted Nell Gwyn. ‘It was a rumour, and nothing more.
Some people have nothing better to do than to gossip about their neighbours.’

‘He fell in
love with her when his brother brought her to the castle just before their
wedding,’ went on Maid Marion, ignoring the interruption. ‘She came with her
family. It was her father who’d arranged the match. They stayed for a week and
at the end of the week she was married. But when she said “I do” to one
brother, in her heart she was saying, “I do” to the other.’

‘Scandal and
nonsense,’ said Nell Gwyn.

‘I heard that
she was besotted with him, but that he would not look at her,’ piped up a buxom
Viking. ‘She set her cap at him, but he ignored her, so she married the other
brother to spite him.’

‘And I heard
that he was madly in love with her, but that she was in love with her husband,’
said an Italian contessa.

‘Everyone —’
said the fairy, before stopping and looking at
Helena
.

All the women
turned to look at her, finally realising there was an outsider amongst them.

‘Can you tell
me where the ladies withdrawing room is?’ asked
Helena
.

‘I don’t know,
I’m sure,’ said the goddess.

‘The balls
used to be so well arranged when his lordship’s old housekeeper was here, but
tonight I can find nothing I want. It is a pity she left in such a hurry. I
wonder what became of her,’ said
Helena
.

‘Tempted away
by higher wages,’ said the Viking promptly. ‘She went to Lady Abbinghale in
London
.’

‘I heard it
was the Honourable Mrs Ingle,’ said Nell Gwyn, her interest caught.

‘No, it was
Lady Abbinghale. She steals everyone’s servants. She stole Lord Camring’s chef.
Paid the man double, and left Lord Camring with no one to cook for him when he
entertained the Prince. So then what does Lord Camring do but steal his chef
back again at treble his original wages. We’re slaves to our servants, and
anyone who says otherwise doesn’t know what they’re talking about.’

‘The
withdrawing room is at the end of the corridor, on the right,’ said a young
woman who had previously said nothing, and who was dressed as Lady Macbeth.

Helena
was disappointed in the
answer, for now she had no excuse to remain, but she thanked Lady Macbeth and
moved away. She went into the withdrawing-room in case anyone was watching her,
and adjusted her hat, settling it more firmly on her head. It was very tall,
and it had a tendency to slip to one side. As she secured it with a pin, she
noticed that the woman next to her was dressed as Katharine of Aragon, and she
remembered Mrs Willis saying that that would be her costume. More, she
remembered Mrs Willis’s strange manner when she had visited her, and found
herself wondering about the rector’s wife.

When Mrs
Willis left the room,
Helena
followed her discreetly, and saw Mrs Willis going up the
stairs as silently as a shadow.
Helena
reached the top, and caught a glimpse of Mrs Willis’s hem
going along the corridor until she reached a room at the end. Mrs Willis
stopped and looked round furtively, and
Helena
shrank back against the wall.
Appearing satisfied that no one was following her, Mrs Willis slipped into the
room.

Helena
followed, wondering what
she would find. She reached the door and turned the handle slowly, hoping it
would not creak. There was a slight noise as the door started to swing open and
immediately she stopped, inching it further open when there was no commotion
from within. She finally opened it enough to see into the room, and what she
saw shocked her. Mrs Willis was locked in a passionate embrace with a young
Poseidon, a man who was clearly not her husband.

She hastily
left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Mrs Willis was not all she
seemed to be. If she was concealing a lover, could she possibly be concealing
other things as well?

Helena
’s thoughts were whirling
and she felt in need of some time to think. She was passing the long gallery
and slipped inside. It was far away from the bustle of the ballroom, and she
welcomed its coolness. The dim light was soothing. Here there were no candles
and no mirrors, only the soft moonlight coming in through the windows. It was
coloured by the stained glass, making red and blue patterns on the floor.

She began to
pace the length of the gallery, walking in and out of the pools of coloured
light as she thought over everything she had seen and heard. She had not gone
more than half way when she started, for there was a figure at the end. In the
eerie light she could see no more than his silhouette, but she knew who he was
at once, by a stirring of the air and a lift of something inside her. It was
Lord Torkrow. She started to back away, but it was too late! He had heard her.

‘We meet
again,’ he said, moving forward, his skin dappled red and then blue by the
light. He looked down into her eyes. ‘I wonder, was it by accident or design?’

‘Forgive me,
my lord, it was an accident,’ she said. ‘I did not know anyone was in here. I
wanted to get away for a while. I did not mean to disturb you.’

‘No matter,’
he said. ‘I was ready to rejoin my guests.’

‘Then I must
not prevent you,’ she said, although she felt a powerful force emanating from
him, and found it hard to turn away.

‘I have
changed my mind,’ he said. ‘It is time for the unmasking, and I am intrigued.
Who are you?’

‘I cannot tell
you yet,’ she prevaricated. ‘It is still five minutes to
midnight
. I will unmask in the
ballroom at the appointed hour.’

‘Will you? Or
will you disappear like a will-o’-the’wisp, never to be seen again?’

‘Of course
not,’ she said. ‘The idea is absurd.’

But, standing
the in the long gallery, it did not seem absurd. The supernatural seemed to be
all around them, from the dappled light to the strange atmosphere.

‘I am not so
sure,’ he said. ‘I am beginning to think you are a creature from folk tale who
will evaporate like the mist as midnight strikes, leaving me bereft, and I have
a mind to discover your identity now, before it is too late.’

‘That would
spoil the game entirely,’ she said, turning to go.

He caught her
by the arm and said: ‘It is near enough the appointed time, and I will not be
denied.’

So saying, he
pulled off her mask. Its strings caught on her wig, and the mask, wig and hat
came off together. She felt a surge of alarm and she had a desire to run away,
but he was still holding her arm, and flight was impossible.

Her only hope
lay in the dim light, but it was dashed as she saw recognition dawn in his
eyes. For a long time, he just looked at her. And then he said again: ‘Who are
you?’

Helena
’s pulse jumped at the
question. So he knew she wasn’t Mrs Reynolds! Or perhaps he did not know for
certain; perhaps he just had doubts.

‘I know I
should not have done it, but I could not resist. I heard the music and I was
overcome with a longing to dance, and so I slipped upstairs and put on the
costume I had been intending to wear for the servants’ ball,’ she said.

‘Then if you
want to dance, you must dance.’

He slipped his
hand round her waist and before she knew what was happening, they were
waltzing, whirling in and out of the shadows whilst the light played strange
tricks all around them. Was he a man or a monster? she wondered, as the faint
strains of music drifted up from the minstrels’ gallery, like the wail of an
unearthly creature baying in the dark.

‘Well? Was it
worth it?’ he asked her, as they reached the end of the gallery.

‘I cannot
answer that,’ she said, looking up at him and trying to read his thoughts.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I do
not know yet what the consequences will be.’

‘So,
disguising yourself does not trouble you unless there are consequences?’

‘That is not
what I said.’