Footsteps and hooves echoed beneath the gatehouse as Anthea, Lady Letitia, and Longton followed Sebbriz into a graveled courtyard where wall torches and clipped bay trees in large terracotta pots created an entirely Tudor atmosphere. To Anthea, it was like stepping back in time. A farthingale, a ruff, and a red-curled wig looped with strings of pearls would have been more in keeping with these surroundings than their modern fashions.
Cathness Castle possessed some of the most magnificent mullioned oriel windows she had ever seen, certainly as fine as those at Hampton Court. Formed of five curved-bay levels set with leaded glass, they were not only very handsome but admitted a great deal of sunshine. At present the ground floor was in darkness, but hooped chandeliers on the upper floor revealed paneled walls, exquisitely ornamented plaster ceilings, and sumptuous Elizabethan furniture of a grandeur to suit Gloriana herself.
In the far corner of the courtyard, the principal entrance was approached up a flight of worn stone steps, at the foot of which everyone halted while the luggage was quickly unloaded from the horses by Sebbriz’s men. As two of the men then assisted Longton in leading the animals away to the stables, Sebbriz started up the steps, expecting the two women to follow, but Lady Letitia remained obstinately where she was.
“What of the carriage that we have been obliged to abandon?” she asked.
Sebbriz was glib. “No harm will come to the carriage or its contents, my lady.”
But Lady Letitia, accustomed to the business of London thieves and pickpockets, was not so easily fobbed off. “Sir, I am sure there are villains even in Cathness.”
“Certainly not, my lady. We do not even require a constable.”
Confounded, she stared at him. “No constable?” she repeated.
“No, my lady, nor are there magistrates. Cathness does not need them. Disputes are heard by the manorial court of record, presided over by His Grace or occasionally by me. That is the way.”
“Indeed? Well in the eleventh duke’s time there were constables, magistrates, justices of the peace, and all other officers of the law. There were also proper courts of every description, not a manorial hodgepodge that has been cobbled together in order to usurp absolute power. The full panoply of the law is required in a town where the children are disobedient ne’er do wells, for such offspring reflect very badly indeed upon the adults and are proof positive that a mere court leet alone cannot successfully administer the required penalties.” Lady Letitia was at her most scathing and unreasonable.
“Billy Dennis is but one boy, my lady, and he will be severely reprimanded if found at fault.”
“If?” Lady Letitia glared with gimlet eyes. “My good man, are you presuming to question my word?”
Anthea quickly interrupted. “How did you know about Billy?” she asked the steward.
His eyes slid briefly to hers. “I was at the Cross Foxes not long after you called there,” he said smoothly. “Obed Dennis happened to mention that his boy, who I assure you is of excellent character, had gone with a fine carriage to direct it through the lanes. I merely put two and two together now.”
Anthea did not believe a word. Sebbriz knew about Billy Dennis because he was part of whatever it was that involved Sir Erebus Lethe, and therefore—she was sure—party to Corinna’s disappearance. But mindful of Jovian’s instructions to go along with whatever transpired, she did not press the matter further.
Lady Letitia, however, was unaware of such considerations. “May I remind you, sir, that boys of excellent character do not leave travelers stranded in the middle of nowhere with darkness coming on.”
The steward ignored her and continued toward the entrance. “Please come this way, and I will conduct you to His Grace.”
“Well, really!” Lady Letitia was incensed and considered making a battle of it, but, on seeing Anthea’s pleading look, she gave in. “Oh, very well, but the duke will hear of this fellow’s gross ill manners!”
Sebbriz must have heard, but her ire was water off a duck’s back—or in his case a dog’s back—for he did not even deign to glance back as he reached the doorway and went inside.
Anthea agreed with her aunt but was too eager to see Jovian to be much concerned about how his servants deported themselves. Jovian made her feel safe, and right now she needed to escape the uncertain darkness and its fearful secrets.
They entered the great hall, where light was beginning to glimmer as several maids hastened to light some of the floor-standing candelabra that stood around. The hall rose right through the castle to the beamed roof. It had gray and white tiles on the floor and richly carved oak paneling on the walls. The floor was empty, but around the edges there was a sparse display of sixteenth-century chairs and tables, on one of which stood a tray with a two chalices and a jug, all beautifully chased silver.
Sebbriz went straight to the tray. “Please allow me to pour you a refreshing cup of kykeon to welcome you across His Grace’s threshold,” he said.
“A cup of what?” Anthea inquired.
“Kykeon, my lady. It is a barley and honey wine flavored with mint, and here at Cathness it is traditionally given to visitors.”
Lady Letitia would have no truck with stewards presuming to play host. “It may well be a local custom, sir, but this is the first I’ve heard of it, and before I drink anything at all, I demand to see the duke. Immediately.”
“His Grace will come directly and in the meantime would expect me to greet you in a fitting manner,” Sebbriz replied, pouring the wine and bringing the chalices to them.
“Fitting manner?” Lady Letitia snorted. “In my judgment there has been nothing at all fitting about your manner, sirrah!”
“If I have offended, my lady, I crave your leniency, for I am a foreigner with much to learn of English ways.”
“That is clear enough!” Lady Letitia replied tartly.
Anthea accepted one of the glasses, for the man had apologized, and to persist with argument would achieve nothing except her aunt’s indisposition due to stress and ill humor. “Be mindful of your headaches, Aunt Letty,” she whispered discreetly.
To her relief Lady Letitia accepted the other glass, although with another only too audible comment. “I would like to tell him what he can do with his wretched kykeon, jug and all,” she muttered wrathfully.
“I’m sure a maiden lady should not say such shocking things,” Anthea replied, with a little smile.
But Lady Letitia was still not quite done with the infuriating steward. “Do not dally around, fellow. My stepniece is missing, probably abducted, and I expect an immediate and intense effort to find her.”
“A message has already been sent to the town, so that not only will Miss Pranton be sought there, but men will come to the castle to join the search from here.”
“Already sent?” Lady Letitia was caught off guard, for Sebbriz had not been seen to send anyone anywhere.
“Yes, my lady.”
Lady Letitia eyed him, then sipped the kykeon. “Why, this is truly delicious,” she declared, and to Anthea’s astonishment, drained the entire chalice and then indicated that she wished for some more. The smiling steward, smooth as ever, hastened to comply.
The second drink went the way of the first, and then Lady Letitia yawned loudly. “Oh, goodness, I’m suddenly very tired,” she announced.
“Aunt Letty?” Anthea was quite nonplussed by her aunt’s extraordinary behavior, but Lady Letitia yawned again.
“I know it’s early, my dear, but I am absolutely exhausted and in dire need of a good long sleep.”
“But Corinna—”
“The steward has done all that can be done tonight.”
Anthea stared at her.
“I cannot stand around awaiting Jovian’s pleasure,” Lady Letitia went on. “Sebbriz, I wish to be conducted to my room.”
It was too much for Anthea. “Aunt Letty, we must wait to speak to Jovian first. We cannot simply demand to—”
“Oh, stuff and nonsense, my dear. You know Jovian will be only too delighted to extend us his hospitality—when he stirs himself to greet us, that is.”
Sebbriz was already at Lady Letitia’s side. “Apartments are at your disposal, my lady,” he said ingratiatingly.
“That sounds most agreeable.”
Anthea was dismayed. “But, Aunt Letty—” To her shock, Sebbriz interrupted her by speaking to her aunt again.
“Do you have maids, my lady?”
“Our maids are in London, sir, suffering a most inconvenient dose of mumps.”
The fact that he had so rudely broken in while Anthea was speaking seemed not to worry Lady Letitia at all. In fact, nothing seemed to worry that lady now, unlike a few minutes ago when nothing at all pleased her.
Sebbriz was attentive. “Would you like one of the maids here to attend you?” he asked.
“That would be most helpful, sir. I begin to see why His Grace leaves the welcome to you.”
Anthea could not believe that her aunt had undergone such a complete change of heart about the slippery steward, for he was odious and impertinent and had richly earned a flea in his ear. But these were not ordinary circumstances. Anthea glanced down at the chalice of kykeon she had still to sample. Maybe this was no ordinary wine. Aunt Letty had begun to behave oddly from the moment she drank this dubious liquid....
Sebbriz snapped his ringers at one of the maids. “Phoebe, you are to attend Lady Letitia.”
The maid bobbed a curtsy. She was small, slender, and pale, with blond hair that was almost ash in color, and her eyes were cool and gray. Her gray linen dress was beautifully laundered, and the starched mobcap on her head was pinned in place just so.
Sebbriz bowed to Lady Letitia. “You are to have the Buckingham rooms, my lady. I trust they will be to your complete satisfaction. They were prepared in 1509 for Edward Stafford, third Duke of Buckingham, and—”
“I am aware of the facts, sir, for I have stayed here before,” Lady Letitia interrupted.
“My lady.” He bowed again, but in a manner that was anything but subservient.
Lady Letitia, as unlike her true self as ever, turned impatiently to the waiting maid. “Lead the way, if you please, for I cannot stay awake. Be quick now.”
“My lady.” Phoebe hastened to light a candle from one of the candelabra, then conducted Lady Letitia toward an open doorway in the corner of the hall, through which could be seen a grand staircase.
Anthea looked at her untouched chalice of kykeon and decided on no account to drink it. She was about to set it aside, when Jovian spoke again. “You are protected, so it is safe for you. Its purpose is to make you desire sleep, as things are to take place here tonight that neither you nor Lady Letitia should see. So drink it and behave out of character as she did.”
Aware of Sebbriz watching and waiting, she raised the chalice to her lips and took a taste. It was indeed delicious, and she had no trouble at all in emptying the glass. She felt no effect beyond enjoying a refreshing and delicately flavored wine. The steward replenished the glass, which she immediately drank. Then she pretended to stifle a yawn. “Good heavens,” she murmured, “is it the air here? I vow I suddenly feel as tired as my aunt.”
“An apartment awaits, Lady Anthea.”
“I think that would be most agreeable. It has been a very difficult day.”
“Of course, and you may be assured that in the meantime every endeavor will be made to find Miss Pranton. If you should hear horses in the courtyard, it will be the search party preparing to set off to look for Miss Pranton.” The steward snapped his fingers at another maid. “Cynthia? Lady Anthea is to have the King Hal suite.”
“Yes, Mr. Sebbriz.” The maid who came forward was so very like Aunt Letty’s that Anthea suspected they must be sisters. Maybe that was why their names had been chosen, for both were titles for the moon. Or maybe being named for the moon had other connotations here in Cathness. Anthea’s glance crept to a high window, through which the pale blue beams of moonlight now shone.
Jovian spoke once more. “I am coming down now, Anthea, and I want you to go along with whatever I say. I will appear to be tipsy, but you are not to cavil about it because kykeon causes amenability. If you point out my failing, Sebbriz will know you are protected, and that will not suit my plans at all.”
Almost immediately there was the flicker of candlelight from the grand staircase, and the sound of unsteady steps. Jovian came into view and entered the great hall. His hair was untidy, he wore no coat, his shirt was undone almost to the waist, and the candle in his hand was at such an angle that the leaping flame smoked and hot wax splashed to the floor. He gave a cheerfully inebriated smile. “Wha’s all this, Sebbriz?"
“We have guests, your grace,” the steward replied. “Lady Letitia Wintour and her niece, Lady Anthea Wintour. Lady Letitia is tired and has retired to the Buckingham rooms. Lady Anthea was just about to retire to the King Hal suite.”
“Ah, sw-sweet Anthea,” Jovian murmured, allowing his gaze to wander appreciatively over her. “Where is the d-de-lightful Corinna?”
Anthea pretended to blink back tears. “Corinna has disappeared in the lanes near here, Jovian. She was snatched from us, and now Aunt Letty and I do not know where she is.”
Jovian looked as if he had difficulty grasping what she’d said. “Corinna has disap—hic—peared? Good God.”
“Everything is in hand for a search to begin, your grace," Sebbriz said.
“Good. No doubt she’ll be f-found quick as a w-wink. Hic.” Jovian came closer and made a shambles of taking Anthea’s hand and raising it to his lips. “Did you know, Seb—hic—briz, Lady Anthea almost b-became my betrothed? We got on f-famously until she t-took offense at my liking for a little s-sip or two. Hic”
Anthea gave him an amiable smile, then put her hand to her mouth as if stifling another yawn.
Jovian waved Cynthia away, spattering hot wax in all directions. “You w-will not b-be required now, for I w-will escort Lady Anthea t-to her—hic—room.”
Sebbriz nodded at the maid, who gave a quick curtsy and hurried away, but as Jovian offered Anthea a rather unsteady arm, the steward spoke quickly. “You must not be long now, your grace.”
Jovian frowned and waggled the dripping candle at the steward. “Am I, or am I not the k-key to everything?”
Anthea wondered what he meant.
Sebbriz gave an obsequious bow. “You are, your grace.”
“Then if I w-want to be—hic—a few minutes late, I d-damned well will be.”
“As you wish, Your Grace, but the moon is up and you must be there.”
“Just h-have my h-horse ready, and all will p-proceed as it should. Hic.”
With that Jovian ushered Anthea toward the grand staircase.