The Mysterious Howling Read Online Free PDF Page B

blackberry cordial to settle her nerves, so young Margaret was instructed to deliver the message to Lady Constance. She soon returned, and even the comically squeaky tone of Margaret’s voice could not conceal the sternness of her mistress’s reply: Under no circumstances would Lady Constance venture outside that evening. She had retired to her private rooms until further notice and would take supper alone due to a severe headache.
    Discouraged but hardly defeated, Penelope felt she had no choice but to plead with Lady Constance in person. Mrs. Clarke looked ready to object, but Penelope laid a hand on her shoulder. “Remember Silky!” she said with feeling, and after that Mrs. Clarke could only nod and wish her Godspeed.
    Penelope marched straight to Lady Constance’s chambers. Her knock received no answer. She knocked again and called through the door.
    â€œLady Constance, it is Miss Lumley, the governess! I must have your ear for a moment regarding the children. Their current accommodations are quite unacceptable.”
    There was a thud and a small crash from inside. After a moment, Lady Constance opened the door a crack and immediately began to wail. “You gave me your word,” she cried. “You signed a contract! Oh, please, Miss Lumley! Do not leave us before you begin! I am beside myself. It is only six months since Lord Fredrick and I were married. I am not fond of children in general, and to suddenly become the foster mother to three—and to three such wild, dirty, incorrigible creatures—well, I am quite over my head!”
    She popped a small chocolate into her mouth, clutched at her temples, and swooned. LuckilyPenelope’s reflexes were swift, and she caught her new mistress before she hit the floor.
    â€œLady Constance,” Penelope said, putting her back on her feet, “you must give me leave to settle the children in the nursery. After all, they are in your care.” Wisely, Penelope chose not to offer her opinion of the care they had received so far.
    â€œYou will need to speak to Lord Ashton about that. I am much too ill to make any decisions,” Lady Constance replied, retreating back inside her private parlor. “He will be home within the hour.” With that, she slammed her door shut and could not be persuaded to converse any further.
    P ENELOPE USED THE HOUR WISELY ; she made up the children’s beds, tidied the nursery, and cleared it of breakable objects. She also instructed the kitchen to bake plum cakes, and the scent of fruit and cinnamon was already wafting through the house. It had even permeated Lord Fredrick’s study, where she now sat across from the man himself, waiting for him to speak.
    Sadly, the sweet cake-baking smell could not mask the far less delicious odor of Lord Fredrick’s cigar. The current master of Ashton Place had the same long andnarrow nose, sloping forehead, and prominent, somewhat pointed ears depicted in the ancestral portraits that hung on the wall behind where he sat. Penelope could read the names off the engraved brass plaques mounted below each painting: Admiral Percival Racine Ashton. The Honorable Judge Pax Ashton. Lord Edward Ashton . The one of Lord Edward was her least favorite of the paintings (although she could not honestly say she liked any of them); he was a very rotund man and even the painted-on buttons of his coat looked as if they wanted to pop off the canvas. She found his expression decidedly unpleasant and made a point of averting her smoke-stung eyes from that harsh, heavy-lidded gaze.
    â€œOf especially naughty children, it is sometimes said, ‘They must have been raised by wolves,’” Lord Fredrick finally remarked, tapping his cigar into a bronze ashtray shaped like a fox. “And, by Jove, these rascals actually were!”
    â€œI take it,” Penelope said, blinking, “that they are not your own natural-born children, then?”
    â€œMine?