Lily Read Online Free PDF Page A

suddenly. “Go on up directly and straight to sleep, no talking. Well?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Lily said hurriedly. She wasn’t used to taking orders and hadn’t spoken up quickly enough.
    Mrs. Howe had her plump hand on the door handle. In the next minute the carriage stopped and she flung the door open, lowered the step herself, and got out, not waiting for assistance.
    “After you,” said the son, whose name was Trayer, and despite the darkness Lily sensed an impudent grin on his lips.
    She stepped to the ground, and stood in the gravel half-circle before the brooding black bulk of an enormous house. Three and a half stories of Cornish granite hovered above her like a dark, wide-winged hawk, obliterating starlight in the southern sky. Darkstone. She whispered the name, motionless before its austere immenseness. There might be towers at the far corners, but in the blackness she couldn’t be sure. She grew dizzy gazing up at the invisible demarcation between roof and night sky. From somewhere, everywhere, the sound of water on rock was a steady, sibilant hiss. As she watched, lightless cliffs of sheer stone wall seemed to stretch and expand at the edges of her vision, as if to surround her. Fatigue, she scoffed, pulling her thin shawl tighter. Nevertheless, the impression lingered.
    Torchlight wavered on worn stone steps leading to the entrance, a scarred and iron-belted oak door with a huge ring for a handle. The Howes were seeing to their bags again. Unthinking, drawn to the light, Lily moved toward the door. She’d put her foot on the first step when she heard the fast, angry crunch of stones behind her.
    Mrs. Howe caught her by the elbow and spun her around. “Ignorant trull! Insolent little baggage! Where do you think you’re going?”
    “I—I forgot myself, I didn’t think—”
    “Forgot yourself!” For a wild second Lily thought the housekeeper would strike her. But with a powerful effort she reined in her temper and pointed toward the east end of the house. “The servants’ steps are there, around that corner. Mayhap her grand ladyship in Lyme lets servant girls use her front door, but there’s none o’ that here. You’d best learn your place quick, Lily Troublefield, or I’ll make you sorry.”
    “Yes, ma’am. I beg your pardon.” She made her voice contrite, but inside she burned with indignation. Head bowed, leaving Trayer and the coachman to see to the luggage, she followed Mrs. Howe along a flagstone walk that led around the house to a small courtyard and stone basement steps. The housekeeper opened the door at the bottom and swept inside; Lily went more slowly, feeling her way in the dark. She was in a corridor; at its far end a dim light glowed, and Howe trudged toward it stolidly. It proved to come from the kitchen, an enormous, echoing chamber whose far wall was taken up entirely by the biggest brick hearth Lily had ever seen.
    “Dorcas!”
    A girl, a wan wisp of a child no older than twelve or thirteen, jerked herself awake on a stool next to the hearth. “Ooh, ma’am, ee’re back, I weren’t sleepin’!” she said in a nervous gush, scrambling off the stool.
    “Let the lamp burn out, didn’t you? Ignorant girl! Nothing but the candle to greet us, and I told you what time we’d be back. Get upstairs; I’ll deal with you in the morning.”
    Dorcas mumbled, “Ais, ma’am,” looking terrified. She was small, dull-haired, and gray-skinned, with a sore on her lip. Scurrying out, she threw Lily only one quick, curious glance.
    “You’ll help Dorcas in there tomorrow,” Howe announced, shrugging a massive shoulder toward a door that led to the dark scullery. “Have that grate cleaned and the fire lit before Mrs. Belt comes in—that’s the cook. She starts the breakfast at five. Now get off to bed.” She took Lily by the elbow and hustled her back out into the dim corridor. “The servants’ stairs are at the end of this hall, straight ahead. Lowdy’s room’s in the