Castle of Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page A

it did not escape him.
    You don’t
think I should be the earl , he thought. You think the title should belong to
another.
    ‘Very well,
Parkins. You are dismissed.’
    She did not
blink. She did not speak. But when he addressed her as the servant she was, he
could feel the venom coming from her.
    She unfolded
her hands and moved to the door, going through it in a gliding action, and
leaving the room on noiseless feet.
    He knew what
she felt about him. He knew that she blamed him, that she had always blamed
him.
    Perhaps she
was right.
     
    Helena unpacked her few belongings, hanging
her two woollen gowns in the wardrobe and putting her chemise and petticoat in
the top drawer, together with her handkerchiefs and her woollen stockings. Her
shoes she put next to the bed. Then she took the hot brick from its place by
the fire and put it between the sheets.
    It was not the
first night she had been expecting. She had been hoping for a warm welcome from
her aunt, and after their reunion she had been intending to tell her aunt of Mr
Gradwell’s proposal, and to hear her aunt’s advice.
    Should she be
practical and marry him? she asked herself, as she unpinned her fair hair and
let it cascade down her back. Or, once she had found her aunt, should she
continue in her quest for a new position, and refuse Mr Gradwell’s hand?
    Caroline had
been in no doubt. “Marry him, Helena,” she had said. “He’s a kind man, a
gentleman. He’ll take care of you. You’ll have servants of your own, instead of
having to be a servant. You’ll never have to sleep in an attic again.”
    But Helena was still uncertain. She
wanted a home of her own, yes, and it would be good to be no longer at someone
else’s beck and call, but she was not sure she could face a future with Mr
Gradwell. He had kissed her once, and although the experience had not been
unpleasant, she had hoped for something more. She had hoped for the sensations
Lord Byron had spoken of in his poetry, and she recalled the lines of her
favourite poem:
    Where
heart, and soul, and sense, in concert move . . .
    Each
kiss a heart-quake . .  .
    Each kiss a heart-quake , she thought with
longing. There had been no quaking of her heart when Mr Gradwell kissed her.
But was Byron’s poetry a true vision of love? Or was it simply a romantic
dream?
    What would it
really be like, to be married? she wondered, as she brushed her hair; to live
with a man every day, to share a home with him, and to be with him every day of
her life?
    Aunt Hester
knew. Aunt Hester had been married to Uncle Edward and could tell her what to
expect, as well as helping her to decide whether or not she could be happy in a
marriage to Mr Gradwell. But Aunt Hester had disappeared.
    She undressed
in front of the fire, stepping out of her gown and stripping off her underwear
before lifting her nightgown over her head. As she did so, she caught sight of
her hand and she froze. She was not wearing a wedding ring. She should have
thought of it sooner, but it was too late to do anything about it now. Besides,
Lord Torkrow seemed to have accepted her. He knew as well as she did that many
women had become destitute after losing their husbands at Waterloo , and had been forced to
sell their jewellery in order to stay alive.
    She climbed
into bed. The hot brick had warmed the sheets and she pushed it further down
the bed, resting her toes on it and basking in its heat. She blew out her
candle then, worn out from her day, she fell asleep.
     
    It seemed hardly any time before she
awoke to the sound of scratching on her door. At first she did not know where
she was. The bed felt strange and the red hangings confused her, but then it
came back to her and she remembered that she was in the castle. Fumbling on the
table next to her bed she found the tinderbox and lit her candle then, throwing
a wrapper round her shoulders, she removed the chair she had set in front of
the door before calling, ‘Come in.’
    The door
opened and Effie