Constance opened her eyelids, the novelty of her surroundings combined with the golden glow of the sunlight shining in between gaps in the window shutters bringing her back to consciousness with a jolt. Which was quite some feat when the mattress beneath her was more comfortable than anything she’d ever slept on in her whole life before. At her uncle’s house she would have been tempted to doze for a while, but she wasn’t at her uncle’s house, she remembered with a sinking feeling, or at Lacelby either. She was at Wintercott, the largest, most impressive castle she’d ever seen with the strangest, most sinister inhabitants.
She rolled over, trying to put her jumbled impressions of the evening before into some kind of order. First and foremost, she thought of Matthew, but there was no sign of him, nor any indication that he’d slept in the chamber either. The space beside her on the bed was completely smooth and she couldn’t see his belongings anywhere. He’d said that he had a few matters to attend to when he’d left, but by the look of things he’d never come back. As far as she could tell, everything was just the same as it had been when she’d closed her eyes. There wasn’t even the food he’d promised her, as if he’d forgotten her completely.
She propped herself up on her elbows, wondering if she’d imagined the closeness between them the previous night. The intense look he’d given her as he’d cradled her face between his fingers had been different from all the other looks he’d given her. There had been a sense of intimacy and closeness that definitely hadn’t been there before. There had been flashes of it perhaps during their journey and in the hostelry, as if the feeling had been building, but that particular look had taken her breath away. There had been something more than intimacy in his eyes, too, a hint of the hungry way other men looked at her, only this time she hadn’t minded. This time she’d welcomed it. Even the memory made her skin tingle again.
She tipped her head back, feeling a warm glow despite the other, less pleasant events of the evening. She’d always been raised in warm, caring environments, first at Lacelby, then in her uncle and aunt’s household, so that the meeting with his family had come as a shock to say the least. She’d never come across a family like the Wintours before, strange figures who stood at opposite sides of the room and greeted each other after five years with barely restrained antipathy. It hadn’t felt like a family reunion so much as a trial.
According to Matthew, his relationship with his father had always been strained, but as for that with his brother... He’d said that it was because he’d left five years ago without saying goodbye, but he hadn’t explained why he’d done so and something in his face had warned her not to ask. It was a mystery—only the fact that he’d left England so soon after their wedding made her wonder if the two events were connected somehow. Had he left because of her?
She shook her head, pushing the idea aside. No doubt she was letting her imagination run away with her, not just about Matthew’s motives for leaving, but about his family, too. Whatever bizarre impressions she’d received the evening before had no doubt been the result of exhaustion. In the bright light of day surely the whole situation would seem different. Her surroundings certainly did.
She wriggled herself up to a sitting position and looked around. Matthew’s chamber was more than three times the size of the one she’d shared with Isabella and Emma in Lincoln, although she’d been too tired and confused to pay much attention the evening before. Now she noticed a large, expensive-looking rug laid across the wooden floorboards, as well as tapestries decorated with images from Greek legends on three of the walls. Meanwhile, the other wall, behind the bed, was decorated with white plaster so bright it actually seemed to glow.
‘Matthew?’ She pulled her knees up to her chest at the sound of a light tap on the door, belatedly noticing that she was still in her travelling clothes from the day before.
‘No, my lady.’ A fresh-faced serving girl stepped inside and bobbed a curtsy. ‘I’ve brought you something to eat and fresh water for washing.’
‘Thank you.’ Constance smiled, swallowing her disappointment. ‘Is it really morning?’
‘Almost midday, my lady.’ The maid unlatched the window shutters and folded them back as if to prove she was telling the truth.
‘Is that sunshine?’
‘Yes.’ The girl gave a shy smile. ‘I almost didn’t recognise it either.’
‘And I’m still in bed.’ Constance looked down at her rumpled gown in consternation. She must have been more tired than she’d realised, falling asleep in her clothes and sleeping right through until midday. ‘Do you know where my husband is?’
‘I believe he went out, my lady.’ The girl bobbed another curtsy. ‘The family ate a few hours ago, but he told me to have some food ready for when you woke up. I brought a trencher last night, too, but you were fast asleep so I took it away again. I have bread and cheese now, if you’d like?’
‘Yes, please.’ Constance swung her legs over the side of the bed eagerly. Her stomach was feeling considerably better this morning, so much so that the mere thought of food made her start to salivate. The fact that Matthew hadn’t forgotten her the previous night made her mood brighten, too. ‘That would be wonderful.’
‘Your belongings are over here.’
‘They are?’ Constance mumbled through a mouthful of bread as the maid indicated a pair of chests by the door. She hadn’t noticed them before, but now she saw they were definitely hers. ‘The baggage cart arrived?’
‘Yesterday evening. Sir Matthew carried your things up himself. I drew the bed curtains so you wouldn’t be disturbed, but I don’t think a herd of cattle would have woken you up last night. You’d hardly moved at all when I opened them again this morning.’ She smiled. ‘Shall I help you with your dress, my lady?’
‘Thank you.’ Constance took a bite of cheese and gestured at the laces on the back of her gown. ‘I know I should have done it last night, but I only meant to close my eyes for a few seconds. The next thing I knew you were here.’ She smiled over her shoulder. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Susanna, my lady.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Susanna, I’m Constance. Have you lived here long?’
‘All my life. That is, I grew up in the village, but if you mean the castle then I only came to work here last summer.’
‘Do you like it?’
The girl’s expression seemed to go rigid. ‘Of course, my lady. It’s a very good position.’
‘But?’ Constance lifted her eyebrows along with her arms, allowing Susanna to lift the gown up over her head.
‘Nothing. Like I said, it’s a very good position.’
‘I see.’ Something told her the maid wasn’t telling her everything, but she didn’t want to push. ‘I have to admit, it seemed a bit strange to me last night. When I first woke up, I thought perhaps it had all been a dream.’
‘I know what you mean, my lady...’ The girl lowered her voice and threw a nervous glance towards the door. ‘I felt that way, too, at first. My mother didn’t want me to come at all, but I have eight brothers and sisters and my father said there was no choice. In the end, they just told me to be careful.’
Constance paused with her under-tunic halfway up her hips. ‘Why would you need to be careful?’
‘I... No reason.’ Susanna’s expression seemed to freeze again.
‘I won’t repeat anything you tell me.’
‘Well...’ The maid hesitated for a second before the words seemed to tumble out in a rush. ‘Because of Sir Ralph. He has such a wicked reputation, my lady. They tell all the girls in the village to avoid him if they can.’
‘Oh!’ Constance was so shocked, she hardly knew how to answer. ‘Have you ever needed to be careful?’
‘Me? Oh, no.’ Susanna shook her head. ‘I’m good at keeping out of the way. And he hasn’t been half so bad since he married Lady Adelaide last summer, the poor woman. Oh!’ She clamped a hand to her mouth, as if realising she’d just said more than she’d intended. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m always talking too much. Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to lose my position.’
‘You won’t.’ Constance smiled reassuringly. ‘I’m glad that you told me and I won’t say anything, I promise.’
‘Thank you.’ The maid breathed an audible sigh of relief. ‘Can I help you with anything else before I go?’
‘No, I can manage the rest, thank you.’
Constance waited until the door had closed before peeling off her undergarments and scrubbing herself down with rose water, wishing that she could wash away what Susanna had told her as easily. Not that Sir Ralph was likely to be any threat to her, but just the thought of living in close quarters with such a man was repugnant. Did Matthew know about his father’s behaviour? It seemed unlikely, given that he’d been away for the past five years, unless it had been going on for longer. And she couldn’t say anything now that she’d just promised Susanna...
In any case, she had no intention of hiding herself away as if she were afraid of her new father-in-law. If Matthew had gone out then she could go and find him herself. At the very least, she could explore the castle a little.
She finished her ablutions, brushing her teeth and combing and braiding her hair before selecting a fresh green tunic and matching surcoat from her chest and dressing quickly before she could lose her nerve. Then she ventured out into the gallery and down the stairwell.
Contrary to her expectations, the hall below was deserted. Fresh rushes had been laid out on the floor, giving the room a heavy, pungent aroma, but aside from a few hunting dogs stretched out in front of the hearth, there was no sign of the castle’s inhabitants.
She argued with her conscience for a moment and then turned and went back up the stairs, pausing briefly at the top to work out which way was east, before making her way slowly towards a door at the far end of the gallery. She waited a few moments, listening for sounds within, then rapped on the wood with her knuckles, waited a bit longer and then, when there was no answer, twisted the handle and pushed it open.
Her first reaction was one of amazement. Sir Ralph had surely understated things, calling it the second-best chamber when it was hard to imagine anywhere more beautiful. In truth, it was the most spectacular room she’d ever seen, large and high-ceilinged with an elaborately decorated mural of gold and red painted birds on one wall, another of blue and white flowers opposite and a carved oak bed with red velvet curtains in the centre. To her eyes, it was a room fit for royalty and yet Matthew had reacted as if he’d been offered a cold, dark dungeon instead.
She didn’t linger, closing the door softly behind her and making her way back along the gallery, wondering what it was he could have objected to. His reaction had seemed somewhat extreme at the time, but now it made no sense at all.
She was so engrossed in thought that she almost walked past a small corridor that led off from the main gallery towards another archway. She’d missed it before, too, but now she was glad of the distraction, following it towards another small stairwell that led upwards. Curious now, she lifted her gown around her ankles and started climbing, higher and higher until she found herself out on the roof of the keep.
A gust of cool air hit her in the face and she drew in a deep breath, glad to be outside again. Despite its opulence, there was something stifling about the atmosphere of the keep itself. Up here in the open she could feel her mind start to clear and her tension ease again. Fortunately there were no guards either so she had the space completely to herself as she made her way towards the chest-high wall that ran around the edge and folded her arms on top, tilting her face up to let the sun warm her skin. It was a strange sensation after so many weeks of grey weather and she savoured the feeling, even the contrasting chill of the breeze that tore at her headdress and pulled tendrils of hair loose around her face.
The view beyond the castle was magnificent, taking in the hills they’d crossed the day before as well as the low coastlands to the east. That was the direction of Lacelby, the home that had once been hers, albeit briefly, now a part of the Wintour family estate. No doubt Sir Ralph controlled every bit of land she could see. Of course, she was a Wintour now, too, which made Lacelby hers again in a way, except that being a part of such a family didn’t seem like such an appealing prospect...
There was shouting below and she stood on her tiptoes to see what the commotion was about. Her view was partially obscured by the slightly shorter walls of the inner bailey, but from a distance it looked as though a cart laden with hay had dropped half of its load across the main thoroughfare through the castle and a crowd had gathered to jeer at the unfortunate driver. Constance shook her head in sympathy and let her gaze drift past, taking in the vast expanse of the outer bailey.
It was like a town in itself, a hive of activity with an assorted collection of houses and workshops, as well as a sizeable stables and exercise yard and several thatched buildings that looked like storerooms. Meanwhile, the inner bailey was even more impressive with a pond and herb garden in one corner as well as a small area of lawn bordered by what looked like rows of vegetables. Just below the keep was a building that could have been a granary and beyond that, set slightly apart, were two stone-roofed edifices that she presumed were the kitchens and brewery. As she watched, a group of women emerged carrying baskets and trays and she smiled at the familiarity of the scene. At least there was nothing sinister there, just ordinary people going about their daily lives. Maybe she was letting her imagination run away with her after all...
She was about to move away when she caught a glimpse of familiar copper-blond hair below. Matthew? She lifted a hand to wave, smiling to think that she’d found him without even leaving the keep and then lowered it again, struck by a prickling sensation on the back of her neck, accompanied by the conviction that something wasn’t quite right. He was talking to another man, but the way they were standing, close together in the shadows of the gatehouse that separated the inner and outer baileys, struck her as faintly clandestine. Even from a distance, she could see that their expressions were serious, giving the distinct impression that, whatever they were talking about, they didn’t want to be seen or disturbed. It was like the scene in her uncle’s hall again, only this time she was in full view. Instinctively, she took a step backwards, trying to move out of sight, but the movement disturbed a flock of birds on the wall beside her and their sudden, energetic flurry caused both men to look up.
Her eyes locked with Matthew’s and she froze, shocked by the instantaneous look of horror that seemed to flood over his face. It was the exact same expression he’d worn when his father had mentioned the east chamber, only to have it focused on her made her feel distinctly guilty, as if he’d somehow guessed where she’d just been. But he couldn’t have. She’d only peeked inside the room for a few seconds and no one had seen her. Which meant that he was horrified about something else, but what? It wasn’t as if she was doing anything wrong. All she was doing was standing on a roof!
He started forward abruptly, abandoning the other man without a word and sprinting towards the keep steps. She moved, too, guilt turning to dread as she spun away from the wall and towards the centre of the roof, fighting the urge to flee. Not that fleeing would do any good. She didn’t know the castle well enough to hide and, besides, she had no intention of hiding from her husband. She was only standing on a roof, for pity’s sake! The door at the top of the stairwell hadn’t been locked and no one had forbidden her from coming up. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Even if the look on Matthew’s face said otherwise...
‘Constance?’ He burst on to the roof in a shorter time than she would have thought possible, his face ashen despite the fact that he must have run all the way. ‘Come away.’
‘Why?’ She looked around, searching for some sign of peril, but everything looked perfectly safe.
‘Just come away.’ His voice sounded strained as if he were forcing the words out. ‘What are you doing up here?’
‘I was admiring the view.’ What else would she be doing? ‘Matthew, what’s the matter?’
A brief look of relief seemed to pass over his features before he reached a hand out, beckoning her towards him. ‘Come here.’
‘I don’t understand why...’
‘Come!’
She stiffened, tempted to dig her heels in at his imperative tone, but there was something disturbing about the wildness of his expression, as if his reasons, whatever they were, were important. His gaze was fixed on her, unblinking and direct, as if he were determined not to look around either. Perhaps he was scared of heights? she wondered, moving tentatively towards him. That was one plausible explanation...
‘Ow!’ she yelped as his fingers clamped around her wrist the moment she was within reach, pulling her towards him so firmly that she tumbled forward into his arms.
‘Come with me!’
‘What is it?’ Indignant, she tried to tear her arm away again, but he was too strong, already hauling her down the stairwell. ‘What have I done?’
He didn’t answer, let alone stop, his jaw set with a look of grim determination as he half-pulled, half-carried her back to their chamber and slammed the door.
‘How dare you!’ She whirled on him the moment he let go, anger coursing through her body like a scorching hot torrent. So much for his not being a tyrant! He was certainly acting like one now! And just when she’d thought he was the kind of man she could talk to. Just when she’d been starting to think that their marriage wouldn’t be so bad! She glared back at him. ‘What’s the matter with you? I was looking at the view! You’ve no right to treat me like that.’
‘You shouldn’t have been up there!’ He leant back against the door, breathing heavily, as if he’d expended the last of his energy in dragging her downstairs.
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s dangerous!’
‘How? There’s a wall!’
‘You still could have had an accident.’
‘So you had to come running up and save me? I’m a grown woman, not a child!’
‘That’s not the point. You might have—’ He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze dropping to the wrist she was cradling in her other hand. ‘Did I hurt you?’
She glared at him for a few more moments and then shook her head. Truth be told, he hadn’t hurt her. His grip had been firm and infuriating rather than painful. Even when he’d been forcing her down the stairs, she’d had the distinct impression that he’d been taking care not to hurt her, to make sure she didn’t stumble either.
‘You have a tight grip, that’s all.’
‘I’m sorry.’ His voice sounded ragged. ‘I didn’t mean to do that.’
‘If you were worried, then you could have called up or told me later, not acted as if I were about to hurl myself over the edge!’ She stopped as he flinched, the prickling sensation on the nape of her neck coming back with a vengeance as a new, terrible suspicion dawned on her. ‘Matthew? Did that happen? Did somebody fall?’
He didn’t answer though she saw him swallow.
‘Oh...’ She shuddered, feeling sick at the thought. ‘I’m sorry, I had no idea.’ She took a step closer towards him. ‘Who was it?’
‘I can’t talk about it. Just promise me you won’t go up there again.’
‘I promise.’ She fought the urge to ask further questions. ‘If it means so much to you.’
‘It does.’
‘But it might help to—’
‘No!’ His voice was ice-cold, haunted by some painful emotion. ‘I have to go.’
‘Matt—’
He turned away without looking at her again, opening the door and disappearing through it before she had a chance to finish his name.
She closed her mouth, her emotions ranging between anger, shock and frustration. His reaction was yet another mystery and she was getting heartily sick of those! He could at least have told her who...
Her mouth went dry, the hair on her arms standing on end as she recalled something he’d said the previous night. It was the word accident. He’d used it before when he’d been talking about his stepmother, his father’s fourth wife. Blanche, he’d called her. Was she the one who’d fallen? If she was, then this was the second time Matthew had run away at the mention of her. Why? And after he’d promised to be honest with her!
She narrowed her eyes and glared at the spot where he’d had just stood. She had no idea what was going on, but she was suddenly determined to find out.