Chapter 2
Two days later, Victoria packed her meager belongings. Her aunt was beside herself. She was determined to keep Victoria from leaving and heading to Elderbloom with her inheritance. It took her uncle, as the voice of reason, to talk her down from her near hysteria.
The night they returned from the solicitor, he asked her one question. Are you certain?
She replied simply, “I am.”
Trepidation had been her constant companion since she had accepted her inheritance. Her stomach was constantly in knots. Even so, she was determined to go through with it.
When she was alone in her room, she read over the paperwork in the folio Mr. Williams gave her.
Once she accepted the inheritance and took possession of Ravenfell Manor, there was no going back.
Since she was part of the bloodline, she was taking it as is, and there was no selling it.
It was one of the clauses buried deep within the codicil that Mr. Williams hadn’t pointed out.
The moment she read that, hot pinpricks danced up her spine.
But she was determined to do this thing on her own. She was set on forging her own path and becoming her own woman.
She gave her room one last glance before closing the door behind her and heading down the stairs.
She had no intention of looking back. This was a place of sadness for her.
Once she stepped foot onto Ravenfell estate, she would shed her sorrow and her mourning black and become the mistress she was meant to be.
Or so she hoped.
Aunt Eloise and Uncle Hubert waited at the front door.
He, with his hat tucked under his arm and coat buttoned up.
Her wringing her hands and her face pinched with worry.
It was clear she was ready to launch into another diatribe about how inappropriate it was for Victoria, a single woman, to move to a country estate all alone.
With her small reticule in hand, Victoria steeled herself against the argument that was to come.
But Aunt Eloise remained mute as she halted in front of them, drawing in a steady breath. Her uncle gave her a warm, encouraging smile.
“Shall we?” He motioned toward the door.
Aunt Eloise made a whimpering sound. He gave her a warning glance. She pressed her lips together into a straight line, her hands still clenched.
“Do be careful, dear girl,” she said. “I hope you’ll keep in touch.”
“I’ll send a letter as soon as I’m settled,” Victoria said with a reassuring smile. Though her stomach was still fluttering with nervous knots. She kissed her aunt’s cheek. “Thank you for everything. It means the world to me you took me in.”
The older woman’s eyes grew misty. “We were glad to do it.”
Though Victoria wondered about the truth of that.
She followed her uncle out the door and into the early morning sunshine. He intended to escort her to her new home to see her safely there. It would be a day’s ride to Elderbloom and Ravenfell Manor. She had but one bag of her belongings packed on the carriage.
Once they were both settled, the carriage trotted away, leaving the busy city streets behind for the country. And, she hoped, a slower more peaceful way of life.
It was late in the day when they finally made it to the estate. Excitement followed by apprehension drummed through her as she peeked out the window. The carriage wheels crunched on the gravel drive as it made its way up the long road flanked by verdant green lawns perfectly kept.
The last of the evening sun touched upon the sprawling manor house that stood tall and imposing against the fading indigo sky. There, rising out of her memories, was Ravenfell Manor.
Its honey-colored stone walls reflected the dusky twilight, worn by time and ancient secrets.
Ivy snaked across the timeworn walls toward the gables, and chimneys rose like pointed spires reaching for the sky.
To one side, trees offered shade from the early summer sun.
On the other side, a gate led to the grand garden that appeared to be in pristine condition.
As if someone tended the fragrant blooms with loving care and attention.
The carriage came to a halt outside the grand entrance where the arched doorway was flanked by twin columns.
Over the door, its pediment cracked as though it had once borne a family crest now lost to time.
The tall paned windows reflected the twilight and—beyond—the faint glow of the interior that was less than welcoming.
The imposing structure stood silent, waiting, watching.
Victoria swallowed, a sudden lump of fear in her throat. Suddenly, her determination waned. It took everything in her not to tell her uncle to turn the carriage around and go back.
“Well, here we are,” he said, trying to sound cheerful.
She hadn’t realized he, too, was peering out the window watching as they approached the estate. He sat back, a smile plastered on his face as the footman opened the door and waited. Her uncle motioned toward the door to let her out first.
Hesitation pounded through her as she peered out the open carriage door.
No, she could do this. She would do this.
Picking up her reticule, she stepped out onto the gravel drive and moved aside to wait for her uncle. He followed her, pausing next to her, as the two of them gazed up at the house together. Her heart rammed against her chest. So hard it felt as though her ribs vibrated.
“Are you certain about this, dear?” he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.
She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. All she could do was nod.
He sucked in a deep breath, expelled it. “Very well, then.”
Her uncle stepped toward the door and lifted his hand to knock when it cracked open.
The hinges groaned with the effort as it slowly swung wide.
A man stepped through the threshold into the gloom, his obsidian eyes landing on her with a curious glint—yet sharp and assessing.
He already knew who she was and why she was there.
He was tall, dressed in a dark gray coat clinging to his broad shoulders, the fabric dulled by time and wear. His hair was black as crow feathers, curling slightly at the collar and around his ears, touched with a silver streak at the temples.
Angular features hosted high cheekbones, a straight, thin nose, and thin lips carved into a permanent grimace. And though he had the silver streaks at his temples, he had no wrinkles to speak of and looked as young as Victoria herself.
There was something unearthly about him. Not in the way of ghosts, but of someone who had once been alive and had not quite finished the job.
His head inclined as he looked at her with those black eyes, his gaze unreadable.
“You must be the new mistress,” he said. His voice was low and smooth. Silky. Like chocolate. “You’re earlier than expected.”
He moved aside and motioned for them to come inside.
Not a very welcome invitation, for she sensed his cold stiffness.
Victoria, clutching her reticule in her gloved hands, took her first step through the threshold and into the grand foyer of the manor house.
Her uncle followed, keeping close behind her as the man closed the door with another groan of hinges.
It plunged the foyer into shadowy darkness.
She had never thought to be here again, yet the moment she stepped inside, it was as if time stood still. Everything was exactly how she remembered it. Impossibly unchanged.
The marble flooring, veined with silver and onyx, stretched beneath her feet.
The grand staircase curved upward in a sweeping arch, the balustrade carved with floral vines.
To the right, the old grandfather clock stood in its alcove, its slow tick echoing through the silence.
Above her, the chandelier with its crystals that once shone brightly were now smudged by dust.
Beyond that, she caught a glimpse of the parlor, where the baby grand piano still sat in dignified silence.
The instrument’s lacquered black curve was reflected in the gilded mirrored walls, though the mirror’s surface had aged.
They were now dulled and veined with hairline cracks like a spider’s web of memory.
Dust shimmered in the slanted afternoon light from the windows on the opposite of the room.
It smelled faintly of lavender with a hint of stale air and something like old paper and extinguished candle smoke.
And it was hers.
The man stood to the side, eyeing her and her uncle as though waiting for her to speak.
“And you are?” She spoke in a weak and tremulous whisper, and then immediately cursed herself for sounding so frail.
“Gabriel Allward, miss. The caretaker of this estate.” He gave her a half-bow, as though it was expected but he didn’t mean it.
Her uncle stepped around her and offered his hand. “And I’m Hubert Pembroke, her uncle on her mother’s side.”
Gabriel’s black eyes drifted to him, giving him a cool once-over. With some reluctance, he took his hand and shook it once, then released him.
“Good of you to travel with her. Will you be staying the night?” He sounded a bit agitated at the thought her uncle would, in fact, be staying.
“I—” he began.
“It’s far too late for you to return, uncle. I’m sure we can find a guest bedroom for you.” Her gaze slid to Gabriel. “Can’t we?”
He gave a thin-lipped smile of annoyance. “Of course, miss.” Then to her uncle, “Your horse can be stabled and cared for until the morning when you make your return journey.”
But her uncle’s brows had drawn together. His eyes were lit with suspicions. “Where is the rest of the staff?”
“I’m afraid there hasn’t been staff here in many years, sir. I’m the only one.”
Victoria sucked in a gasp. “You? Only you?”
“Yes, miss. There hasn’t been a need to keep Ravenfell fully staffed with just me here.” He smiled again, though it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Seems odd you’d stay on,” Uncle Hubert said.
Gabriel’s smile faltered, though his posture remained perfectly composed. “Odd, perhaps. But I made a promise to stay. A promise I intend to keep.” His gaze flicked briefly to Victoria. “Ravenfell doesn’t take kindly to abandonment. Someone had to remain.”
There was a subtle weight to his words. She wasn’t sure what it was she sensed, but it went beyond duty and obligation.
Disconcerting silence settled between them.
Uncle Hubert gave a quiet snort of disapproval, which was not like him at all.
He was normally passive and taciturn. She ignored him as a prickling sensation skipped up her spine and paused with a cold tingling sensation at the nape of her neck.
Like icy invisible fingers brushing across her skin.
Yes, someone had to remain.
The words bloomed over her in a roughened whisper but when she looked at the men in the foyer, neither had spoken.
There was something familiar about that voice and a memory resurfaced, sharp and quick like a flash of lightning.
A little girl’s voice telling her don’t be afraid, and the haunting tune of the piano played by no one.
Phantom footsteps on the landing. Her heart thudded, pounding a hard, erratic beat.
“Miss?” Gabriel’s voice broke through her thoughts.
She looked up. His eyes held hers. Dark. Steady. Waiting.
Searching.
Questioning.
In that moment, she knew two things.
One, this man was not lying.
Two, he was waiting for her.
The grandfather clock chiming jarred her, making her jump. She put a hand to her head and rubbed, hoping to scour away whatever chilling feeling she had pulsing through her.
“Are you well?” he asked.
“I’m…fine. Just a little tired from the trip.” She managed a smile.
“Then I should see you to your rooms. Would you care to dine this evening?” he asked.
She looked to her uncle for the answer. Perhaps he sensed her unease when he reached for her, taking her by the elbow.
“No, thank you, Mr. Allward. We dined in town before we arrived,” Uncle Hubert said, taking charge.
For that, she was grateful.
“Gabriel, please. I must insist. Do you have bags?” he asked.
“In the carriage,” Uncle Hubert replied.
“Very good, sir.”
He gave a sharp nod as he headed back toward the door and pulled it open. Again, with the groan of hinges. As he exited the manor to see to the bags, her uncle turned to her. He had a pinched expression, one that was difficult to read.
He lowered his voice so only she heard his rushed words. “Victoria, darling, you don’t have to do this. You aren’t obligated to stay here. I can help you sell the place if you—”
“I’m staying,” she said, cutting him off.
Because the thought of returning to Crown Hollow, under the care of her aunt, sent a pang of panic through her. She would much rather take her chances here, in this strange manor, than return to the city.
Her determination to be independent could be her undoing.
“I’ll stay the night to make sure you get settled. Perhaps even stay through tomorrow night.”
He cut a glance toward the open door where Gabriel retrieved the two suitcases. It was clear he didn’t trust the man. Perhaps she didn’t, either.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said. “Besides, I have to learn how to run the estate at some point. I’ll hire more staff if that will make you feel better.”
“It would, yes,” he said with a definitive nod.
Gabriel returned carrying both their bags. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your rooms.”
He started up the grand staircase.
She and her uncle exchanged a glance. His, wary. Hers, nervous. Together, they followed the caretaker up the stairs.