Chapter Four
Silence surrounded Sterling when he stepped from the sitting room. Not even whispers from servants could be heard. If he didn’t know better, he would have assumed that he and his mother, along with the butler, were the only people in the house.
Where had the servants gone?
A few had been present at his arrival but they had quickly scattered when his name was announced. Was he truly so frightening or was it as simple as they were surprised by his arrival?
Sterling walked down the corridor and paused at the foot of the stairs. Why had he not met the housekeeper either?
“Is there something that you need, Lord Wyndham?” George asked as he approached from behind.
“A bath,” he answered. “And where were my belongings delivered?”
“To the same room you occupied when you were younger. The maids have seen that it has been freshened and new bedding replaced the old.”
“Thank you.” He started up the stairs and paused. “Did anyone see to unpacking my trunks? I do not have a valet.”
“I can have the highest-ranking footman act as one while you are here.”
He shook his head. “That is not necessary. I only need someone to collect my laundry. I have been at sea for months.”
“A maid will be sent to you right away.”
Sterling nodded, climbed the stairs, and turned to enter the room that he had occupied for the first twelve years of his life.
That was when his father had been the caretaker of Wyndview Farm.
He’d been the third son of an earl and the position had been better than having to go into trade, even though managing a family estate could have been considered as such.
His sleeping chamber had not changed. The plastered walls remained light in color in contrast to the darkening orange-hued pine floors.
Dark-blue curtains framed the windows and when closed, were thick enough to block out the sun, which sometimes became necessary when the days grew hot, though more relief could be found from the heat with the curtains pulled away and windows opened for fresh air and a hopeful breeze.
He turned to his trunks and opened them, placing the clothing that needed to be laundered in one stack and the items that were still clean in another to be put away, then wandered to the window to await his bath.
The landscape was just as he remembered, with vibrant flower gardens planted away from the house to take advantage of the sun and filled with orchids, lilies, heather, proteas, hibiscus, verbena, daises, and honeysuckle—the names his mother had taught him when he was a child.
Beyond and in the valley were neat rows of grapevines.
The blood of this estate. Now, after fifteen years, Sterling was back, eager to tour Wyndview Farm and be reminded of how it was run and how wine was made.
It was an export of Trade Wynd, one of the largest importers and exporters in England and owned by his family, thus it was necessary for him to understand all aspects of the business.
Yet, despite his purpose for being here, melancholy settled into his soul.
He recalled how he and his brothers had played outside, when they were free of their tutors, and how they had swam in the lake his great-uncle had dug out of the ground that had filled with rainwater over time until it was always full.
It was down in the valley where he had started to learn how to run the estate because one day he would take his father’s place.
They always assumed that it would be here, not back in England.
He remembered visiting with his maternal grandparents, but they had passed away after his family had left the Cape Colony.
He had not thought about his grandmother’s tight warm hugs in a very long time and suddenly missed them.
Sterling closed his eyes as memories swept over him and back to a time when he had been happy. When his entire family had been happy and when they had all lived together and loved.
The same happiness could have continued in England, but it hadn’t. His mother had been miserable and then she was gone.
When he opened his eyes again, Sterling looked down to the stone terrace that separated this house from the one that had been built for a great-uncle who had decided to live here even though his brother had been the caretaker of Wyndview Farm.
It was now the home reserved for the estate manager and his family.
Movement at the corner of the terrace caught his attention and he looked to note Caroline crossing the terrace from the kitchens.
She stopped in the center of the terrace and slowly looked around then turned back to the house before she looked up—directly at him, fear in her dark eyes.
Had she sensed that he was watching?
A moment later, she hurried across the terrace and entered her father’s home.
Why was she afraid?
*
While her father and William reviewed the reports and accounting following their evening meal, Caroline prepared Livia for bed, tucked her under the coverlet and read to her from a favorite story.
When her daughter finally drifted off, Caroline extinguished the lamp and returned downstairs, relieved to see that father and brother were still reading and made her way to her chamber, which had formerly been a small parlor at the side of the house.
She used to sleep above-stairs in the room next to her daughter’s smaller sleeping chamber, but she had given it to William on his return, because it had formerly been his bedchamber.
The one where Livia now slept had been Caroline’s and was too small for both of them.
Therefore, Caroline had made a parlor into her chamber.
Their family was not so large that they needed a sitting room and a parlor.
There were no visitors and if documents needed to be prepared or there was accounting that could not be done in Wyndham’s home, they used the small office here or the dining table if a larger space was needed.
William had tried to insist that he be the one to sleep downstairs, but Caroline would not allow it.
Besides, she was the one who was up the earliest and went to sleep the latest, and she liked the separation from her family.
Further, she also had a door that led outside and made it easy for her to cross the terrace whenever Lady Wyndham might have need of her.
It was at that very door that she now stood, watched and waited for all lights to be extinguished on the ground floor, then waited for the chambers above to also darken.
Once they were, she waited a little longer, then lit a lamp and quietly crossed the terrace and entered the main house through the back door before she made her way to the office.
Once inside, she lit another lamp and then closed the door.
Settling behind the desk, she retrieved the ledger that she had been writing in earlier and finished the calculations for the quarter before she set to copying the figures on a separate ledger to take to her father.
There were always two copies. One that was sent to Wyndham in England and one that remained at the estate, just as there was one quarterly report sent while a copy of said report remained here.
Once the ledgers were totaled, she completed the quarterly report with the correct amounts and began to make a copy so that they would be ready for Wyndham.
It was tedious but necessary work.
Caroline had just retrieved another piece of parchment, ready to copy the fifth and final page when there was a creak of the floorboards outside the office.
Every part of her being stilled as she held her breath and waited as she strained to hear if there was someone in the corridor or if she was alarmed for no reason.