Castle of Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page B

day she wasn’t.’
    ‘Do you know
why she had to leave?’ Helena asked.
    Effie sat back
on her heels and rolled up a sheet of newspaper, winding it round her hand and
knotting it before laying it on top of the crumpled paper.
    ‘Do you?’
asked Helena patiently.
    Effie glanced
over her shoulder and seemed reluctant to speak.
    ‘I believe her
sister was ill?’ Helena prompted her.
    ‘That’s what
he said.’
    Helena had the feeling she was
concealing something.
    ‘And did you
believe him?’
    ‘It’s not my
place, missis, if master says it, then it must be true.’
    ‘Ah, yes. Do
you like him? The master?’
    ‘I reckon.’
    But the girl’s
open manner had disappeared, and once she had finished lighting the fire she
wiped her hands on her black-streaked apron, then picking up the bucket she
left the room.
    Helena was left with much to
think about. As she removed her nightgown and washed in the hot water, she
thought that Effie had not told her everything she knew. But, if she stayed at
the castle an extra day, there would be another morning, and another
conversation whilst Effie lit the fire.
    She dressed
quickly, glad of her thick woollen gown and woollen stockings. She brushed her
hair and fastened it into a neat chignon, then, picking up her candle, she went
down to the kitchen, following the route she had used on the previous day. As
she went through the door into the servants’ quarters, she once again had the unnerving
feeling that she was being followed, but when she turned round there was no one
there.
    She quickened
her step and was relieved to gain the sanctuary of the kitchen, where she found
Mrs Beal baking bread. The smell of it filled the room and made Helena realise how hungry she
was.
    ‘Effie, set
the kettle over the fire,’ Mrs Beal said. Then, to Helena , she said: ‘You’ll have some rolls?
They’re freshly baked.’
    Helena looked at in the
newly-baked rolls that were set on the dresser, laid out on a clean cloth. With
their golden tops, they looked appetising.
    ‘Yes, please.’
    Mrs Beal set
jars of home made jam and honey on a table in the corner of the kitchen, and
put out cups, saucers and plates. She added a mound of freshly churned butter
to the table and a jar of frothing milk. Soon a bowl of sugar and a pot of tea
joined the rest.
    ‘I’m ready for
a bit of something myself,’ said Mrs Beal.
    ‘I see you
have finished the fires,’ said Helena to Effie, hoping to reassure the girl, so that the next time
they met, she would be agreeable to talking.
    Mrs Beal
answered for her.
    ‘Yes, she does
the fires in the mornings, but his lordship doesn’t want anyone in the library
except the housekeeper and Miss Parkins, so she left a bucket of coal outside,
as she always does. His lordship’s told you you’re to keep the library clean
yourself?’
    ‘Yes, he has.
Miss Parkins does not see to it, then?’
    ‘Miss Parkins
doesn’t see to a lot, from what I can see.’
    ‘I am not
quite sure what Miss Parkins’s position is in the castle,’ said Helena , gently probing, as Mrs
Beal poured out the tea.
    ‘That makes
two of us,’ said Mrs Beal. ‘I wouldn’t have much to do with her, if I were you.
She comes down here from time to time, but I won’t have anyone interfering in
my kitchen. She looks at you sometimes . . . well, I’ve said enough.’
    As Helena ate her rolls and drank
her tea, the conversation turned to the idleness of dairy maids and the
impossibility of running the kitchen adequately without any kitchen maids.
    ‘In the old
days, there were seven people working in the kitchen: Mrs Barnstaple, the cook;
me as her assistant; three kitchen maids and two scullery maids. Mind, we had a
castle full of people to feed. His lordship and Master Richard. . . ’ She
tailed away, then finished: ‘ . . . we’ll not see those days back again.’
    Helena tried to encourage her to
say more, being sure there had been something important left unsaid, but Mrs
Beal would