Keeping the Castle
Read Keeping the Castle Online
Authors: Patrice Kindl
Tags: #Europe, #Juvenile Fiction, #Humorous Stories, #Girls & Women, #Historical
Books by PATRICE KINDL
Owl in Love
The Woman in the Wall
Goose Chase
Lost in the Labyrinth
Keeping the Castle
VIKING
Published by Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published in 2012 by Viking, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Copyright © Patrice Kindl, 2012
All rights reserved
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Kindl, Patrice.
Keeping the castle / by Patrice Kindl.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: In order to support her family and maintain their ancient castle in Lesser Hoo, seventeen-year-old Althea bears the burden of finding a wealthy suitor who can remedy their financial problems.
ISBN 978-1-101-57206-1
Fiction. 4. England—Social life and customs—19th century—Fiction. 5. Great Britain—History—1789–1820—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.K5665Ke 2012 [Fic]—dc23 2011033185
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
To my writers’ group, with special thanks to Karen Beil.
And to Dante, my own Fido
Contents
WITHOUT THINKING HIGHLY either of men or of matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honorable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want.
—Jane Austen,
Pride and Prejudice
Cast of Characters
AT CROOKED CASTLE
Miss Althea Crawley
Mrs. Winthrop, Althea’s mother
Miss Prudence and Miss Charity Winthrop, Althea’s stepsisters
Master Alexander Crawley, Althea’s brother
Fido, a dog
Pegeen, an elderly horse
(SERVANTS AT CROOKED CASTLE)
Greengages, the butler
Cook, a cook
Annie, a maid
Jock, a groom
Tom, the kitchen boy
AT GUDGEON PARK
Sidney, Lord Boring
Mrs. John Westing (Fanny), his mother
Mr. Hugh Fredericks, cousin of Lord Boring
Mrs. Fredericks, his mother
( SERVANTS AT GUDGEON PARK )
Withins, the butler
Susan, a seamstress
( VISITORS TO GUDGEON PARK )
The Marquis of Bumbershook
Mr. Vincy, an industrialist
Mrs. Vincy, his wife
Miss Vincy, their daughter, an artist
A number of eligible young men
NEIGHBORS IN AND AROUND LESSER HOO
Mr. Godalming, a gentleman suitor
Sir Quentin and Lady Throstletwist
Miss Clara Hopkins
Mr. Bold, the vicar, and Miss Sneech, his niece
Dr. and Mrs. Haxhamptonshire, the local physician and his wife
The Eliots, a large family
Leon, a small boy, and his nurse
1
WE WERE WALKING IN the castle garden. The silvery light of early spring streaked across the grass, transforming the overgrown shrubbery into a place of magic and romance. He had begged me for a few moments of privacy, to “discuss a matter of great importance.” By this I assumed that he meant to make an offer of marriage.
“I love you, Althea—you are
so
beautiful,” murmured the young man into my ear.
Well, I was willing enough. I looked up at him from under my eyelashes. “I love you too,” I confessed. I averted my gaze and added privately, “You are
so
rich.”
Unfortunately, I apparently said this aloud, if just barely, and his hearing was sharper than one would expect, given his other attributes.
“I beg your pardon? You love me
because
I’m rich?”
“Not
only
because of that,” I hastened to assure him. He also was reasonably amiable and came of a good family. He admired me and was apparently willing to overlook my lack of fortune, all points in his favor. And, yes, he was rich. Quite enough to turn the head, and capture the heart, of an impressionable and impecunious young girl such as myself.
“So . . .” He thought this over. “If I lost my money, you wouldn’t love me anymore?”
“If I became ill,” I countered, “so that my hair fell out in clumps and my skin was covered with scabs and I limped, would you still love me?”
“Egad!” He stared at me, evidently attempting to picture this. He turned a little green.
“But,” I said, “most likely those things will not happen. You are rich and I am beautiful. We should make an excellent couple. Our children will have my looks and your money.” At least, so I hoped. Only imagine a child with his lack of neck and my lack of funds! The poor man’s head looked exactly like a melon, or perhaps one of those large orange gourds from the Americas, bursting out of his cravat. And he had such big red lips, which he licked incessantly.
We each were lost in our own separate thoughts for a moment, I mourning the fate of these hypothetical offspring, he, as his subsequent commentary proved, considering the finer distinctions of desire and avarice.
“It’s not the same thing,” he said at last, looking sulky. “Admiration of a woman’s beauty in a man is . . .” he waved a hand, searching for the mot juste . . . “it’s spiritual. It shows that he has a soul.” His gaze swept up and down my form, lingering regretfully on my bosom, which was exposed enough for interest and covered enough for decorum. He licked his lips. “But,” he went on, withdrawing his gaze, “any consideration of the contents of a man’s purse by a lady he is courting is—I regret to say this to one I held in such high esteem only a few short moments ago, but I must—it is mercenary and shows a cold heart. I must withdraw my protestations of ardor. Good evening to you.”
He bowed, turned, and stalked out of the garden. I sighed. When would I learn to speak with a tactful tongue? There went another one. I kept forgetting how ridiculously sensitive and illogical men were. He assumed that his fortune would buy a beauty; I assumed that my beauty would procure me a rich husband. It seemed much the same thing to me, but evidently what was permissible in a man was not in a woman.
Ah well. There was yet time; I was but seventeen.
