Lady Elanor stared drearily at the wall.
She wished her governess, Mistress Mauldred, would at least put her by the window so she had something to look at while she was strapped in her back-board. She wished Mistress Mauldred had chosen a lighter book than A Lady’s Complete Guide to Manners, Morals & Modesty to balance on top of her head. She wished Mistress Mauldred would come back and unstrap her.
Suddenly there was a terrible screeching noise. Elanor looked slowly towards the sound, careful not to make the book topple off her head.
A section of the oak panelling in her room flung open and a boy and a dog came crashing through onto the floor.
The boy was very dirty.
The dog was very large and very hairy.
Elanor stared in astonishment.
The boy sat up, rubbing his head. His dusty blond hair fell into his eyes, which were as blue as the vase of forget-me-nots on Elanor’s table. ‘Get off me,’ he said, pushing the dog away. The dog licked him lovingly. ‘Must you always lick me?’ the boy complained. ‘You have the wettest tongue in the world.’ He looked up and saw Elanor.
She stared at him.
He stared back. ‘Who are you?’ he asked.
‘I am Lady Elanor Morwenna Grace de Belleterre, daughter of Wolfgang de Belleterre, Lord of Wolfhaven Castle.’ She smoothed her green silk dress over her knees.
‘Fungus!’ Tom exclaimed, then went red. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t …’
‘I don’t mind,’ Elanor said quickly. ‘So who are you?’
‘I’m Tom Pippin. The cook’s son.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Someone was chasing me.’
‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘It doesn’t really matter. I’m sorry to crash in on you. I didn’t know where I was.’
‘No matter,’ she said.
‘Why do you have a book stuck on your head?’
‘A lady must always hold her head high,’ Elanor replied.
‘And why are you strapped up to that thing?’
‘A lady must not slump.’
‘Do you want to be strapped up like that?’
‘Not in the least.’
‘Would you like me to unstrap you?’
‘If you would be so kind.’
Tom unstrapped her and took the thick, heavy book off her head, tossing it onto a chair. Elanor rubbed her sore neck.
‘Have you been strapped up for long?’
‘It feels like half the day,’ she answered. ‘Thank you for releasing me.’
‘No problem,’ he replied, looking around the room.
Elanor wondered what he thought of it. By the way his eyes widened with amazement, she guessed he was not used to such a grand room. Hung with velvet curtains the colour of lilacs, her bed was set up on a stage, and was big enough for twenty. Her chair was upholstered in lilac velvet too, and was big enough for five.
The boy’s eyes stopped upon her tea-tray, set on the table near the fireplace. His mouth fell open.
‘Are you hungry?’ she asked.
‘Starving,’ he replied.
‘Would you care to join me for tea?’
‘Would I?’ he cried, then hesitated. ‘What if someone comes in?’ he asked.
‘No-one will,’ she answered. ‘And if they do, you can escape out that secret door again.’ She regarded the doorway with thoughtful eyes, and decided it was best not to mention it to Mistress Mauldred. ‘Would you mind shutting it? For now?’
As Tom shut the secret door, Elanor piled a plate with cucumber and borage sandwiches, tiny scones with damson plum jam and cream, slivers of cold ham, and a roasted quail leg, encrusted with salt and thyme, then passed the laden plate to Tom.
Tom dropped in his chair, seized his plate, and ate enthusiastically. Fergus sat by his side, his shaggy head level with Tom’s shoulder, and fixed him with imploring eyes. Tom tossed him some ham, which he snatched and swallowed in a single gulp. Elanor filled her own plate, then put the platter of ham down on the floor for Fergus. With a gulp and a guzzle, the wolfhound cleared it in seconds.
‘Manners, Fergus,’ Tom said automatically, then removed his elbows from the table.
Elanor smiled. ‘Eat up,’ she said. ‘I’m very hungry too.’
Tom was puzzling something over. ‘Did you have to sit there, all strapped up to that thing, with your tea sitting right in front of you?’
Elanor nodded. ‘Ladies must learn self-restraint.’
‘That’s awful,’ Tom said.
‘Ladies must learn not to be greedy.’
‘Who strapped you up like that, and left you to stare at your tea?’
‘My governess, Mistress Mauldred,’ Elanor answered. ‘A most estimable lady,’ she added, after a moment.
They ate in comfortable silence, Fergus begging from first one, then the other. This made Elanor feel happy. She had always wanted a dog of her own, but Mistress Mauldred said that dogs were too rough, noisy and smelly. It was true the wolfhound was rather malodorous, but he took the food from Elanor’s fingers with great delicacy and, when she ruffled his ears, they were as soft as velvet.
‘I never knew there was a door in my panelling,’ Elanor said, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. ‘I’m not sure if I’m glad or frightened. I mean, it’s nice to know I could go down to the stables and go for a ride without Mistress Mauldred knowing. However, I’m not sure I like knowing someone could creep into my room at any time of day or night.’
‘There was a key in the door. You could lock it from your side and then unlock it anytime you please,’ Tom said.
Elanor smiled. She made a plan there and then to go down and visit her pony that very afternoon. She would go for a ride by the seashore and gallop along the edge of the waves. Mistress Mauldred always said ladies must not trot, or canter, or indeed go any faster than the slowest amble, but Elanor loved to gallop. Her mother had always let her ride as fast as she liked, when she was alive.
A hammering came from the other side of the secret door. Elanor stood up, her throat closing over. Tom dived behind the bed, then reached out a long arm, grabbed Fergus by his ruff, and dragged him into hiding too.
‘Who’s there?’ Elanor quavered.
The secret door swung open, and a very grubby boy with flame-coloured curls tumbled face-first onto her carpet. She recognised him at once. He was Lord Sebastian Byrne, son of one of the country’s most powerful nobles, Lord Aiden of Ashbyrne Castle. Sebastian had come to live at Wolfhaven Castle a few months earlier, as a squire in training to be a knight.
Elanor straightened her back and said as coldly as she could, ‘Who are you? How dare you invade my private quarters?’ (Ladies must always command respect, she had always been told.)
‘My lady!’ Sebastian scrambled to his feet and bowed deeply, almost over-balancing. ‘My apologies. I was pursuing a disorderly knave … I thought he came this way.’
‘You expect to find a knave in my private quarters?’ (Ladies must be dignified at all times.)
‘No, no, of course not … it’s just I saw his footsteps in the dust …’
‘You do seem to have been rolling about in a great deal of filth,’ Elanor replied, putting her nose in the air.
The red-head looked down at himself, then tried to brush the dust away. Great clouds rose all about him.
‘I’m sorry,’ he managed to splutter, his tawny-coloured eyes watering. ‘Obviously I was mistaken.’
‘Obviously.’ (Ladies never disagree with a gentleman.)
‘I’ll just go … beg pardon, my lady … sorry for all the cobwebs …’ Bowing low again and again, the boy backed out through the secret door. Elanor shut it after him, locked it, and put the key in her pocket. She felt giddy with excitement.
‘You were great,’ Tom said, crawling out from behind the bed. ‘Did you see how low he bowed? His nose practically scraped the floor.’
Fergus bounded out, tail wagging, sending the dust swirling high again. Both Tom and Elanor sneezed and wheezed.
‘I shall be in terrible trouble when my governess returns,’ Elanor said, when she could catch her breath. ‘Look how grimy my room is!’
‘I’ll help you tidy up. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s cleaning.’ Tom took up the rug and shook it out the window, banged the cushions together, then mopped the dust off the furniture with his napkin. ‘I’ll take the tray away for you. Then your governess need never know you ate it all.’
‘I can tell her quite truthfully that a servant cleared it away,’ Elanor said.
Tom began to pack up the tray. ‘My lady,’ he began, rather hesitantly, wanting to tell Lady Elanor about the wild man’s warning. ‘I’ve been trying all day to get a message to your father, but … everyone’s too busy or too … anyway, if I tell it to you, will you let your father know?’
‘Oh, I …’ Elanor hesitated. ‘The Lord of Frostwick Castle is here most unexpectedly, to talk of trade and … and such things. Father will be busy.’ (Ladies never interrupt their elders.)
‘I really do think it’s important,’ Tom answered.
Elanor bit her lip, then smiled shyly. ‘I could try, I suppose.’