herself together for the task ahead.
It was her last coherent thought as she gave in once more to the need to sleep.
The sound that awakened Olivia was unlike anything she had ever heard. A long piercing scream that chilled her blood and had her leaping to her feet in alarm. Surely this sound was not made by a human. A wild animal perhaps. Caught in a trap and about to give up its life
But it was coming from inside the house. Somewhere along these very halls. That realization had the hairs at her nape prickling.
Olivia raced across the room and tore open the door. The sound was louder now, a long thin wail that went on and on until she was forced to cover her ears.
Without giving thought to what she was doing, she scurried along the hall until she came to the door of the man she had seen huddled in a chair.
The door was open, and Olivia could see Lord Stamford and a woman, her nightclothes in disarray, standing on either side of a bed. At the foot of the bed was a young, red-haired servant.
Lord Stamford bent down and gathered the blanketed figure of his brother in his arms while the woman held a cup to his lips.
“Do as Mistress Thornton bids you, Bennett.” The voice coming from Lord Stamford’s mouth was unlike the one Olivia had heard earlier. Gone was the haughty tone of arrogance. Now the words were soft, soothing, as a mother might croon to her infant.
The wailing abruptly ceased. The cup was drained. And then there was only a childlike sobbing that went on for several more minutes before silence prevailed.
“He will sleep now, m’lord,” the woman said.
“Thank you, Mistress Thornton.” Quenton looked to the foot of the bed. “And thank you, Minerva. I’m grateful that you got to him so quickly.”
“You’re welcome, my lord.” The young servant smoothed the covers. “Have no fear. I’ll stay with him now and see that he sleeps.”
As Quenton turned away, he caught sight of Olivia standing in the open doorway. Without a word he crossed the space between them and swept her roughly into the hallway, pulling the door shut after him.
“Forgive me, Lord Stamford. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“But that is exactly what you were doing.”
“I... heard the scream and had to investigate. I didn’t know what I was hearing. I thought...” She bit her lip, unwilling to finish what she’d been about to say.
“It does take some time to get used to, Miss St. John.” With his hand beneath her elbow he steered her along the hall toward her room. He seemed in a great hurry to be done with her. “My brother is very ill. He is haunted by old memories. Memories that manifest themselves in the night and cause him great anguish.”
“Can nothing be done for him?”
Quenton shook his head. “The physicians who have examined him have assured me that they know of nothing that can help him.”
She paused outside her doorway and for the first time looked up into his dark eyes. There was such pain there. Such misery. It touched her heart. “I’m sorry, Lord Stamford.”
She could see the flicker of annoyance. It was obvious that he didn’t want her pity.
He started to turn away, then thought better of it and turned back to her. “The next time you hear my brother’s cries, Miss St. John, I advise you to remain in your room.” He gave a curt nod of his head. “I bid you good-night.”
She watched as he made his way down the hall. Then she entered her room and closed the door, leaning wearily against it.
“Well,” she whispered. “Welcome to Blackthorne, my girl.”
Chapter Four
S cant hours later Olivia was up and preparing for her first day as nursemaid. Dressed in her simple gray gown, she had just finished tying back her hair into a neat knot at her nape when there was a knock on her door.
“Come.”
Edlyn entered carrying a tray. If anything, her frown was even more pronounced. “Mistress Thornton said I was to bring you tea and biscuits.”
“Thank you, Edlyn. That
It was her last coherent thought as she gave in once more to the need to sleep.
The sound that awakened Olivia was unlike anything she had ever heard. A long piercing scream that chilled her blood and had her leaping to her feet in alarm. Surely this sound was not made by a human. A wild animal perhaps. Caught in a trap and about to give up its life
But it was coming from inside the house. Somewhere along these very halls. That realization had the hairs at her nape prickling.
Olivia raced across the room and tore open the door. The sound was louder now, a long thin wail that went on and on until she was forced to cover her ears.
Without giving thought to what she was doing, she scurried along the hall until she came to the door of the man she had seen huddled in a chair.
The door was open, and Olivia could see Lord Stamford and a woman, her nightclothes in disarray, standing on either side of a bed. At the foot of the bed was a young, red-haired servant.
Lord Stamford bent down and gathered the blanketed figure of his brother in his arms while the woman held a cup to his lips.
“Do as Mistress Thornton bids you, Bennett.” The voice coming from Lord Stamford’s mouth was unlike the one Olivia had heard earlier. Gone was the haughty tone of arrogance. Now the words were soft, soothing, as a mother might croon to her infant.
The wailing abruptly ceased. The cup was drained. And then there was only a childlike sobbing that went on for several more minutes before silence prevailed.
“He will sleep now, m’lord,” the woman said.
“Thank you, Mistress Thornton.” Quenton looked to the foot of the bed. “And thank you, Minerva. I’m grateful that you got to him so quickly.”
“You’re welcome, my lord.” The young servant smoothed the covers. “Have no fear. I’ll stay with him now and see that he sleeps.”
As Quenton turned away, he caught sight of Olivia standing in the open doorway. Without a word he crossed the space between them and swept her roughly into the hallway, pulling the door shut after him.
“Forgive me, Lord Stamford. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“But that is exactly what you were doing.”
“I... heard the scream and had to investigate. I didn’t know what I was hearing. I thought...” She bit her lip, unwilling to finish what she’d been about to say.
“It does take some time to get used to, Miss St. John.” With his hand beneath her elbow he steered her along the hall toward her room. He seemed in a great hurry to be done with her. “My brother is very ill. He is haunted by old memories. Memories that manifest themselves in the night and cause him great anguish.”
“Can nothing be done for him?”
Quenton shook his head. “The physicians who have examined him have assured me that they know of nothing that can help him.”
She paused outside her doorway and for the first time looked up into his dark eyes. There was such pain there. Such misery. It touched her heart. “I’m sorry, Lord Stamford.”
She could see the flicker of annoyance. It was obvious that he didn’t want her pity.
He started to turn away, then thought better of it and turned back to her. “The next time you hear my brother’s cries, Miss St. John, I advise you to remain in your room.” He gave a curt nod of his head. “I bid you good-night.”
She watched as he made his way down the hall. Then she entered her room and closed the door, leaning wearily against it.
“Well,” she whispered. “Welcome to Blackthorne, my girl.”
Chapter Four
S cant hours later Olivia was up and preparing for her first day as nursemaid. Dressed in her simple gray gown, she had just finished tying back her hair into a neat knot at her nape when there was a knock on her door.
“Come.”
Edlyn entered carrying a tray. If anything, her frown was even more pronounced. “Mistress Thornton said I was to bring you tea and biscuits.”
“Thank you, Edlyn. That
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