Chapter One #2
Mrs. Hillman glanced out the front casement windows, where the late-afternoon sky had dulled to a misty grey and a few snowflakes danced on the breeze.
“It does look as though it might snow. I pray that it holds off for another few hours at least, until Manfred returns from the train station with our two sets of arrivals.”
“So do I.” Selena bit her lip.
Mrs. Hillman turned her gaze back to Selena. “My dear. Something else is on your mind. What is it?”
Selena hesitated, then took a deep breath. “You’ll think this is mad, Mrs. Hillman, but I have a strange premonition that something … unexpected is going to happen at this party.”
“‘Unexpected’?” Mrs. Hillman’s pale-blue eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had a feeling like this before.”
“You’ve never helped host a house party like this one before, either, have you?”
“No,” Selena conceded.
The older woman shrugged. “It’s probably just nerves. But then, to be fair, I haven’t seen these people in a long while.”
Selena knew that Mrs. Hillman had met this small group of friends four years ago, when they had spent a month in residence at the Worthing Seaside Hotel in West Sussex. “It’s the first time the four of you have been together since that summer at the hotel, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Hillman’s eyes crinkled as if in fond remembrance. “They are lovely people. I am not acquainted with everyone who’s coming, though. One of the guests is a new lady’s companion, and there’s also a young couple whom I’ve never met.”
“I remember.”
Mrs. Hillman frowned, her gaze focusing on some distant point. “I do hope we won’t have any more unpleasantness, like we did at the hotel that summer.”
Selena looked at her sharply. “What unpleasantness?”
Mrs. Hillman hesitated and then shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t know why I even mentioned it. It is all the past.”
The sound of distant hoofbeats and jangling harnesses rent the air. Through the window, Selena caught sight of Mrs. Hillman’s gleaming, black carriage pulled by four matching black horses rounding the bend at the far end of the long dirt lane.
“Here they are now.” Mrs. Hillman grabbed her cane from beside her chair. “Let us go out and greet them.”
*
A brisk wind flirted with the branches of the few prized evergreens that bordered the front lane and an occasional snowflake drifted by.
Selena wrapped her woolen shawl more tightly around her as she and Mrs. Hillman stood on the roofed front porch of the manor house watching the unhurried progress of the arriving carriage.
Mrs. Hillman eschewed the practice of obliging every upper servant to stand on ceremony outside to meet arriving guests, so they were accompanied only by the head footman, George, a tall, strapping young man with coal-black hair.
While she waited, Selena couldn’t help but glance up at the building behind them.
Darkmoor Park, a former abbey that had undergone a multitude of additions and renovations, was an immense, three-story structure of weathered, grey stone, with two broad wings, a steeply gabled roofline, and three rows of tall casement windows that reached up to the attics.
Selena shook her head in wonder. Residing in this magnificent place and being allowed to run her school for girls here with Athena was such an honor.
But never in her wildest dreams could Selena have ever imagined that she would be named the heir to a house like this.
Although she was the daughter of a gentleman and had grown up comfortably, her family’s old country house was a mere cottage in comparison to the splendor of Darkmoor Park, not to mention all the lands attached to it.
She didn’t know what she had done to deserve such munificence, other than to be Mrs. Hillman’s friend—a relationship that Selena treasured.
She had lost her mother at a young age, and in many ways, Mrs. Hillman had come to fulfill that role in Selena’s life.
Every morning, Selena woke up wondering what service she could perform for Mrs. Hillman, to help herself feel more worthy of the gift she’d been given.
Mrs. Hillman’s coach reached the curved gravel drive and with a gentle crunching of hooves, it stopped before them.
The tall, sandy-haired footman leaped down from the carriage, opened the door, and let down the steps.
Selena had spoken no more than a few words to Sam, a handsome, reserved young man who had been hired for a few weeks only to help with the holiday house party.
The first passenger to descend from the vehicle was a short, apple-shaped woman of perhaps sixty years of age.
Her sumptuous-looking black velvet coat was trimmed in white fur and a massive matching hat with several tall ostrich plumes crowned her dark curls, which were streaked with white, as if designed by nature to match her ensemble.
“That is Mrs. Opal Whitlock,” Mrs. Hillman explained quietly to Selena. “The widow I told you about from Hertfordshire.”
“You said she adores knitting and playing parlor games and cards?” Selena asked, attempting to keep the details fresh in her mind.
“That’s right.”
“She looks very well-to-do,” Selena observed, taking in the woman’s stunning attire.
“I believe she was. Although ever since her husband passed away, I understand her circumstances are somewhat reduced.” Mrs. Hillman paused. “At times, she can be a bit, how shall I say it, finicky and exacting? But deep down, she’s a dear.”
“Where is my brown case with the blue strap?” Mrs. Whitlock snapped at Sam. “The one I expressly asked to hold on my lap? I hope you didn’t leave it at the station!”
“We brought everything, ma’am,” Sam replied. “I can show you what’s tied on back, after I help the other passengers down.”
“They can take care of themselves.” Mrs. Whitlock’s eyes blazed. “This cannot wait. Show me at once!”
Sam nodded in acquiescence. A dark-haired young woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties and was clad in a black hat and cloak, grey frock, and sensible, black boots emerged from the vehicle and hurried after Mrs. Whitlock towards the rear of the coach.
“That must be Mrs. Whitlock’s new companion, Miss Maud Thompson. She also serves as her lady’s maid.”
“Mrs. Whitlock is the only person who brought a servant, I believe?” Selena asked.
“She is. At Mrs. Whitlock’s request, I arranged for Miss Thompson to be accommodated in the same wing as us and the other guests. Apparently, Mrs. Whitlock prefers to have her companion close by in case she needs anything during the night.”
A barrel-chested gentleman of medium height appeared in the coach doorway. His charcoal-grey overcoat seemed to be stretched to the limit over his bulky frame, and his short, silvery hair was neatly combed over an attractive, ruddy-cheeked face.
“And here is Jack Clarke. He’s a successful businessman.” At the sight of him, Mrs. Hillman’s cheeks, which were already rosy from the cold, grew an even deeper shade of pink.
Selena studied her friend with surprise. “Are you blushing, Mrs. Hillman?”
With a demure smile, the good woman lowered her voice to a whisper. “He and I had what you might call … a little holiday romance the summer we met.”
“A romance!” Selena whispered with delight. “You are a dark horse, Mrs. Hillman. You never mentioned anything about that.”
Mrs. Hillman shrugged. “A woman has to keep some secrets.”
The new arrival caught sight of Mrs. Hillman, and a wide grin split his face. “Well, as I live and breathe, if it isn’t my little Rosie!” he boomed, his voice deep and hearty.
“‘Rosie’?” Selena couldn’t hold back her own smile.
Mr. Clarke briskly crossed the drive, bounded up the steps, and held out a broad hand to Mrs. Hillman. “How wonderful to see you!”
“And you, Mr. Clarke.” Mrs. Hillman placed her gloved hand in his, and he kissed it.
Selena thought she detected a shadow pass over the gentleman’s features, but the look vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and she wondered if she had imagined it.
“How I’ve missed you, my Rosie,” Mr. Clarke said as he released her hand. “Can it really have been four years? You haven’t aged a minute.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Mrs. Hillman’s eyes twinkled. “But, sir, may I remind you that we are no longer at the Worthing Seaside Hotel, and I am not ‘your Rosie.’ Here, you must address me as ‘Mrs. Hillman.’”
“‘Mrs. Hillman’?” He scoffed. “That won’t do for me, Rosie darling. But if you insist on formalities, I’ll settle for ‘Mrs. H.’”
Mrs. Hillman laughed. “You are incorrigible, Mr. Clarke.”
“Incorrigible is my middle name.” His gaze rose to the building behind them. “My goodness. Every time you described Darkmoor Park, I thought you must have been overstating things. But I see the opposite is true. It is truly magnificent.”
“Thank you.” Mrs. Hillman gave a modest nod.
Turning to Selena now, Mr. Clarke said, “And who is this pretty, young thing?”
“Mr. Clarke, may I present my dear friend, Miss Selena Taylor. I wrote to you about her. Selena, this is Mr. Jack Clarke.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Taylor.” He took Selena’s gloved hand in the same gallant manner as he had taken Mrs. Hillman’s and impressed it with a kiss.
“The pleasure is mine, sir.” The gentleman had such a larger-than-life presence and exuded such charm, it was impossible for Selena to look away.
“As I recall, Mrs. H said you’re a schoolteacher? And heir to the kingdom?” He winked at Selena as he released her hand.
His comment, and the cheeky expression that accompanied it, made Selena’s face grow warm. She struggled for a reply.
“You are quite right, Mr. Clarke,” Mrs. Hillman interjected, taking Selena’s arm in the crook of her own and giving her an affectionate smile.
“Selena and I get along like two peas in a pod. I’m fortunate to have her living here with me and thrilled to know that she will one day be the new caretaker of Darkmoor Park. ”