Trondelaine Castle (6 page)

“Yes? What is it?” he snapped angrily. Then, looking
up, he perceived the situation. “I’m sorry, Gwen.
Thank you. Please move that table next to Miss Pratt
and the other next to Dr. Witler and myself. Wendy,
will you pour?”

“Of course.”

As the cups were ready, Gwen placed them on the
table next to the men. Wendy put several pastries on
her plate and signaled Gwen to put the rest next to the
men, also. The maid gave her a grateful smile and then
returned to the house.

Wendy was half asleep in her chair when she was
startled by a burst of laughter. She turned her head and
immediately saw the cause. Roger had won the chess
game.

“That will teach you to be overconfident!” he
warned.

Lord Richard smiled easily. “No doubt!”

Roger, still chuckling, glanced at his watch and
started. “Good Lord! I’ve got to leave at once. I told
Kay I’d be back by now and that she could then have
the evening off. She’s a good nurse and I shouldn’t
want to lose her.”

The Earl stood. “Of course. I’m sure we will see you
soon.”

Roger turned to Wendy. “With such an excellent
excuse, of course you will. Stay off the foot, Wendy.”

She nodded and watched the two men walking back
to the castle. When they were out of sight, she struggled
to her feet and hobbled to the castle herself. There was
a door next to her room which opened to the outside, but it had been locked earlier, so she entered through
the billiard room. From there it was just around the
corner and down the hall to her room.

It was with some trepidation that Wendy approached the James Room that evening. She had
pinned her hair up and away from her face so that it fell
in curls, but she wore the clothes she had arrived in.
The blouse was soft and full sleeved, but the skirt was
only blue linen and could hardly be called dressy. It was
a miracle, she thought, that neither had been torn when
she fell. In any case, it would have been impossible to
look elegant on crutches.

Her worst fears were confirmed when she entered the
James Room. Lord Richard appeared to have made an
effort to “dress down.” Instead of velvet, his dinner
jacket was only black cloth. But with the black tie and
glittering cufflinks, he still looked quite formal. He
turned as she entered and, after observing her
appearance, closed his eyes for a moment. Then he was
his usual self again.

“Good evening, Wendy. I note the improvement. A
glass of sherry? Good. Please be seated.”

He brought her the glass and sat beside her. “I
assume you’ve written another letter to Kevin asking
him to send-” He stopped at the sight of her dismay.

“I-I forgot,” Wendy stammered, thinking, How
can I explain to Kevin that I need formal dresses to
recover from pulled tendons? Aloud she said, “I’ll write
him in the morning.”

“Never mind!” Lord Richard said crisply.

Noting his exasperation, Wendy thought, We move
in such different circles. I wonder if there’s anything we
have in common? Or if we could ever understand each other? Aloud, she said to end the silence, “Have you
traveled much, Lord Richard?”

“Here and there. You?”

She sighed. “Not really. To Canada and Mexico,
and once Japan. Now, to England. It’s funny, but when
I came to England and found a job, I thought I would
have the chance to visit Europe. All of it. I want to, very
much.”

“Why haven’t you?” the Earl asked, interested in
spite of himself.

She shook her head wistfully. “Always one reason or
another. And…”

She would not speak to Kevin to Lord Richard. She
must remember she was supposed to be engaged, and it
would never do to complain about her fiance. Besides,
it was a private matter.

Lord Richard eyed her quizzically, then mentally
shrugged. Aloud, he said, “My parents used to go to the
Continent every year. Sometimes I went with them.
Later, I went alone. I preferred that. I used to hang
around the left bank cafes in Paris, pretending I wasn’t
heir to a title, or rich. And I liked Scandinavia and Italy
and the pyramids in Egypt. They were just the same as
in the history books. And I’ve been to Prague for their
spring music festival.”

He stopped suddenly, as though embarrassed. Not
for the first time, Wendy felt a twinge of envy. Lord
Richard stood and stared down, for a moment, at her
rapt expression. Then he asked carelessly, “Shall we go
in to dine?”

He waited as Wendy managed with her crutches and
stood aside to let her go first. Again, the dining room
was lit by candlelight and the massive, dark furniture
glistened and formed deep shadows as the flames danced in an unfelt breeze. Somehow, it made Wendy
uneasy and she shivered.

“Cold?” asked the Earl.

“No.” She hesitated. “It just seems-too perfect
here. Almost as it must have been two hundred years
ago.”

“That disturbs you?” Lord Richard’s voice was
puzzled.

Wendy nodded, slowly. “Yes. Two hundred years
ago it was-suitable. Now, it seems like such a false
existence.

Lord Richard frowned. “You know nothing of my
existence, Miss Pratt. You see only the luxury, not the
other sides. Yes, I cling to certain gracious customs-dining by candlelight and dressing to dine; servants;
and this castle as well as a good townhouse. I cling to
them because I see enough ugliness at other times, and I
don’t like ugliness. But, despite your fears, it does not
blind me to the other reality. I spend a great deal of
time trying to do something about that ugliness.”

His voice snapped as he concluded his defense, and
Wendy sensed anger in his tone. She asked quietly,
“Like the clinic? And the school?”

Lord Richard met her eyes, but his voice was curt.
“If you must know, yes. But they are none of your
affair. Good lord, girl! You see my servants as
decadence, but you haven’t stopped to think that if I
hadn’t hired them, they might not have a source of
income. You can’t accuse me of holding wild, senseless
orgies of self-indulgence, you know!”

Her voice was still quiet as she replied, “I accuse you
of nothing, Lord Richard. For one thing, I don’t know
you well enough. But I begin to think I have misjudged
you.,,

His smile was ironic. “Do you? How nice. I wish I
could say the same about you.”

Wendy flinched and replied coolly, “But then, you
don’t understand people very well, do you? Never
mind, I really don’t care what opinion you have of me. I
could bear anyone’s company for two weeks and once I
leave here, I need never see you again anyway.”

Lord Richard merely stared at her a moment. When
he spoke, it was of different matters. “Pray tell me.
What does your fiance, Kevin, do for a living? Or is he
wealthy?”

She pretended to contemplate her wineglass.
“Kevin? Oh, he works for Beckworth and Brothers,
also. General sort of executive work.”

“I see.” The voice was casual.

“I already told you that and I don’t see why you find
it of interest!” Wendy exclaimed.

The Earl yawned. “One must speak of something.
And I can hardly be blamed for not remembering every
detail you told me. Besides, I was curious to see if you
would give me the same answer tonight.”

Wendy’s immediate impulse was to leave the table.
But she was no coward and was determined not to be
driven away by this man. She stared at him
impassively, waiting.

After a moment, he laughed. “I believe you would
dearly like to slap my face,” he said. “I will not,
however, give you the opportunity. This raises a
question I have asked myself before. Why are so many
women eager to marry me when I obviously have such
an abominable personality?”

“Perhaps you overestimate their interest?” Wendy
suggested sweetly.

He shook his head. “I have a number of written proposals in my desk and there have been as many
verbal ones.”

“Then,” said Wendy calmly, “the women clearly do
not comprehend the essence of marriage. Or rather,
what marriage should be. It can be anything.”

Lord Richard seemed amused. “You have, of course,
definite ideas on that subject?”

She regarded him steadily, not amused. “Don’t you?
Shouldn’t one? I know what I want out of marriage. A
lifelong partnership with some man; and equal give and
take. I want to be a person to the man, not an actress
filling some well-defined role. And most of all I want
love.”

Lord Richard’s face was impassive and for a
moment he did not answer. When he did, he asked,
“Children?”

Wendy shrugged. “I want them… eventually. But I
don’t intend to stop translating. I’ll do it part-time at
home.”

“Your ideas must limit the number of men who
would want to marry you,” said the Earl.

“No doubt,” she replied coolly. “But then, those men
who can’t accept my ideas-well, I wouldn’t want to
marry them anyway. I’d rather be single than make the
wrong marriage. And since I’m quite capable of
supporting myself, I have that choice.”

Watching her face in the candlelight, Lord Richard
had no doubts that he faced an excellent actress. He
wondered if she had written her own lines, or if
someone had coached her. If so, who? The only
mistake she had made thus far was to forget the
engagement ring. Or perhaps that was all part of her
subtle game.

He smiled. The next few weeks might prove very
interesting, particularly since he was forewarned and therefore safe. He wondered what the report would
show. She seemed quite thorough and it was possible
she even had the job at Beckworth and Brothers. She
must have expected him to check on her. It was almost
a pity that he would have to make an example of her.

Noting Lord Richard’s silence, Wendy grew uneasy.
Kevin often said she talked too much, and she
wondered if she had annoyed the Earl with her chatter.
Then he smiled and she did not trust the smile. She
wondered just what his plans were. Again she shivered.

Lord Richard was immediately solicitous. “You are
cold. Unfortunately, the castle is drafty even in
summer. Perhaps a little more wine will help warm
you?”

Wendy did not protest. It was easier to drink the
wine than to tell him she distrusted his intentions.

Wendy had just finished washing her hair when the
maid, Gwen, knocked on the door. “Come in!” she
called, assuming the maid had come to collect her
breakfast tray.

But Gwen had not come for that purpose and, towel
in hand, hair tangled and wet, Wendy sat very still.
“What are those?” she demanded, pointing to the three
evening gowns Gwen carried.

The maid gave a faint smile. “Lord Richard said I
should bring them to you. They’re for you to wear.”

Wendy’s mouth set in a hard line. “I see. Well, you
may take them away. I don’t want them.”

Gwen looked worried. “He said you were to have
them, Miss. I can’t take them back.”

“I see. Very well, leave them here.”

“Yes, Miss!” Gwen said, with evident relief.

Grimly, Wendy dried and combed out her hair as
Gwen hung up the dresses, then took away the
breakfast tray. Her hair still wet, Wendy tied it at the
back of her neck and, hobbling on crutches, made her
way to the library.

Lord Richard was at his desk working and called
absentmindedly, “Come in.”

“What are those dresses doing in my room?” Wendy
asked evenly.

“They are for you to wear, of course. Simpler than
waiting for you to write your fiance to send some up.”

“I don’t want them!”

Lord Richard looked startled. “Why ever not?”

Wendy’s voice was determined. “I would rather not
accept any gifts from you, Lord Richard.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Nevertheless, you will wear
those dresses.”

“No!”

Lord Richard was amused. “My dear Wendy, do
you imagine I had ordered them for you? My maid
informed me that you and my mother were of a size. I
directed her to select three of my mother’s dresses and
give them to you to wear. You are taller, of course, but
then I won’t be looking at your ankles. You may
consider the dresses as a gift or as a loan-as you
choose. But you will please wear them. It spoils my
digestion to see you dressed as you are at dinner. And
since you are my guest, I do think you might be
considerate in this matter.”

“All right,” Wendy said in a subdued voice. And she
added, unwillingly, “Thank you.”

He nodded curtly and looked from her to his papers
pointedly. Immediately, she turned and left the library.
She did not notice Lord Richard staring after her.

Back in her room, Wendy found Gwen making the
bed. “Do any of the dresses have hems?” she asked the
maid.

“Yes, Miss. All of them,” Gwen replied warily.

“Is there a sewing kit I might use?” Wendy asked. “I
shall certainly have to let down the hems and perhaps
make other changes as well.”

Gwen sighed. “I’ll take them, Miss, and have the
hems done.”