Chapter 10 #4
She and Mrs. Granger left the kitchen and made their way back down the narrow hall, their next stop the study.
The door was still closed, which meant the men were probably still working.
She knocked anyway.
“Enter,” Alex called out with ducal authority.
She could not help but smile when she saw him with his jacket off and his expression serious as he made a notation in what appeared to be a ledger book. He still had on his waistcoat that accentuated his broad shoulders and trim torso, and she thought he looked very handsome indeed.
He remained immersed in the ledgers a moment longer, studying them with a sharp-eyed look.
When he finally glanced up, he smiled with genuine warmth upon realizing she had been the one to knock and not the butler. “Did you enjoy your tour?”
She nodded. “Yes, very much.”
He rose to come around to the front of his desk. “Good, then you can show me around later and point out what you particularly liked.”
“All right.” It seemed an odd request since this house was as new to her as it was to him. Well, he had lived here as a boy, but so much must have changed since that time.
Back then, he was looking at Thornwycke through the eyes of a child.
He clearly was not asking for either Mrs. Granger or Mr. Carver to accompany them and serve as guides. “Our cook, Mrs. Crabbe, asked when we would like supper served. She also wanted to know when we would like to take our other meals.”
Alex shrugged. “What is your preference?”
Tulip responded with a shrug of her own. “Oh, it makes no difference to me. Whatever suits you.”
“Newly married and you are already being difficult,” he teased, chuckling lightly. “Very well, how about supper at seven o’clock in the evening. Breakfast at eight o’clock in the morning. And one o’clock for a midday meal?”
She smiled. “Sounds perfect.”
“But it ought to be nothing elaborate for the midday meal these next few weeks because it is likely I’ll be riding out with Mr. Carver every day for the foreseeable future.”
Tulip turned to Mrs. Granger. “Would you please relay this information to Mrs. Crabbe?”
She bobbed a curtsy. “If I am not needed here, I’ll take care of it now.”
Alex dismissed her with a nod.
Once their housekeeper had walked out, Alex drew out one of the chairs beside his desk and motioned for her to take the seat. “Join us, Tulip. I’m sorry I abandoned you, but I was eager to attack these ledgers without delay.”
“Not at all, I know you meant to arrive here days earlier.”
And without a wife, she could have added.
Their need for a hasty wedding had been the reason for his delay.
But was it not better to let the staff believe for now theirs was a proper courtship leading to a well-planned wedding? The truth would eventually come out. By then, she hoped the staff would respect her. “I had a nice chat with Mrs. Granger in the meanwhile.”
“Good.” He motioned for Mr. Carver to resume his seat, too.
But Alex remained standing, casually leaning a hip against the solid desk. He folded his arms across the lovely expanse of his chest and faced her. “What did you think of the house?”
She glanced at the kindly estate manager who was trying to be discreet and not give hint of his feelings about Thornwycke Hall.
“I only saw the main rooms and the upstairs bedchambers, so I cannot speak to its foundations or what work might be needed on the roof and such. I’m sure Mr. Carver has reported on those. ”
“We touched upon it,” Mr. Carver confirmed.
Tulip nodded and continued. “The house could be beautiful if freshened up. I saw very few spots where the rain had seeped in through the walls and needed to be patched. The windows all looked to be sound. No cracks.”
Mr. Carver now spoke up, his expression one of pride.
“I’ve tried my best to maintain this place in good order, not that the last three dukes cared a whit.
Your grandfather cared, however. Despite his…
” He sighed. “Despite his utter lack of propriety in his style of living, he did love this estate. It became more difficult to care for the manor house as his mind grew feeble and he began to gamble recklessly. But until then, despite his eccentric ways, he took excellent care of all his properties.”
Tulip knew of the old duke’s sad decline, for it had been no secret in Burnham that the old duke was losing his marbles.
Her impression of the old duke was that he was an odd mix of intelligence and hedonism.
She had overheard her uncle, William Hester, talking to Mr. Carver about the debauched goings on here.
Wild parties. Women running around half naked on the grounds.
Lewd games. Outrageous wagers placed on the stupidest dares.
No wonder all the next dukes had been wastrels.
How were they ever to grow up decent when the patriarch of their powerful family was openly lecherous, immoral, and indulging in sin?
Of course, their conversations were never meant for her delicate ears.
They would never have discussed the duke’s depravities in front of her or anywhere within her hearing. They never knew she’d had her ear to the door and was listening in on their every word.
How sad that Alex’s mother had walked into a house run like a brothel and gaming hell, unsuspecting of all the embarrassments she would have to endure while her father-in-law ran a libertine household.
Had Alex’s father broken his wife’s heart by openly partaking in those sinful indulgences along with his father and brothers?
How brave of her to escape and make certain her son was kept away from all those bad influences.
“Now tell me what you were not shown,” Alex said.
The question surprised her, but she had quickly caught on to the workings of his mind. He approached everything with an investigative eye, something certainly warranted under these circumstances. “Well, I did not see the tower room. Mrs. Granger said no one has been up there in years.”
Alex arched an eyebrow as he turned to Mr. Carver. “Is that so?”
“Aye, Your Grace. Your grandfather would not allow anyone up there, nor would the subsequent dukes. I think they continued the practice for no other reason than the old duke had done it, so they would, too. It was my intention to ask your permission to inspect it because there must be some upkeep required on the walls by now.” He cleared his throat and cast Tulip a sheepish glance.
“I would not recommend Her Grace joining us until we know what is to be found up there.”
Alex let out a breath as he nodded. “Agreed. Is there a door to the tower wing? Is it kept locked?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Much like Mrs. Granger, he had a belt with several keys on it. “I happen to have the key right here.”
“Good, let’s go up now.”
Tulip’s eyes widened in surprise.
Alex did not waste a moment when in pursuit of answers, did he?
“Is that a good idea?” she asked. “What if you find something upsetting?”
“All the more reason to address it immediately,” he reasoned, which showed how different their minds worked.
She would have put it off until morning because the thought of finding something gruesome as evening approached would have given her tormented dreams. This assumed she would be able to fall asleep at all and not spend the night tossing up her accounts if the tower room proved to be a prison of horrors.
“Stay here, Tulip. We won’t be gone long.” Alex motioned toward the bookshelves that actually had some books on them. “Find yourself something interesting to read.”
“All right.” But she was too agitated to concentrate and had no intention of attempting to do so.
Pacing impatiently is what she was going to do.
But as the minutes passed, she did become curious and decided to browse those bookshelves. The books were mostly guides on farming, no doubt acquired when the old duke still retained some common sense and looked after the ducal properties.
There were also a few books pertaining to the Davenport family history that would be of interest to read.
As she drew several off the shelf, she noticed something tucked behind them.
It turned out to be a journal that belonged to Alex’s grandfather, judging by the dates written at the start of each entry.
He must have kept it hidden behind the other books.
Obviously, it had gone unnoticed all these years because none of the succeeding dukes had ever bothered with reading material.
“Definitely worth a closer look,” Tulip murmured and plucked it off the shelf along with others pertaining to the family’s history.
She had just settled in one of the plump, cushioned chairs beside the hearth when she heard Alex and Mr. Carver talking in the hall.
“What happened?” she asked, hopping to her feet and keeping the journal clutched in her hands as they strode in. “What did you find?”
She was surprised by their quick return.
“Nothing.” Alex smiled, but it felt to her like a forced smile.
She eyed him in confusion. “You found nothing at all?”
“The room was empty. There were scuff marks and patterns of shading on the floor. Also scratches and small holes on the wall. There might have been furniture up there at one time.”
“And?”
“And nothing.” Yet, his eyes were shadowed.
She knew Alex had to suspect something more.
“Do you think someone was kept up there against their will?”
His eyes widened, and then he let out a breath. “Yes, it is possible. Or more likely that one of the earlier duchesses meant to turn it into a sewing room for herself. There’s no reason to believe anything sinister occurred up there. Truly, no evidence of it at all.”
“Even if something had occurred, it would have been ages ago,” Mr. Carver said. “Certainly before the old housekeeper, Mrs. Dodge, came into her position or before Ernfield became head butler.”
“What if it was not all that long ago?” Tulip asked.
Mr. Carver frowned. “You mean, in recent history? Someone would have heard noises up there or cries for help, or odors of decay. I never gave that old tower room a thought, not even once the next dukes began dying in quick succession. In fact, neither Mrs. Granger nor I had the key or ever had permission to go up there. We hunted for it and found it after the last duke died.”
Tulip was surprised. “And you did not think to go up there until now? Why wait?”
He cleared his throat. “There was no sign of activity up there. It wasn’t our place to trespass.”
Of course, the entire staff held their positions at the pleasure of whoever happened to be the current duke. None of them could afford to gain said duke’s displeasure and lose their means of livelihood, all the more dire if they had a family to support.
Perhaps they were terrified of what they might find beyond that tower door.
Or they merely respected the odd quirks of each duke. If Alex’s grandfather wanted no one in the tower room and no one sitting under the willow tree, then so be it as far as the staff was concerned.
No questions asked.
They believed it was their duty to comply with their master’s wishes, even if they were odd.
She let out a shaky breath. “Is there a dungeon in this place?”
Mr. Carver’s expression lightened. “There was, but for the last hundred years it has been used as nothing more sinister than a larder. You’ll find potatoes and an assortment of root vegetables, preserved fruits, dried meats, grains, and the like stored there.
Mrs. Crabbe keeps a tight account of whatever is in there. ”
“Good, perhaps the ghosts will not be so angry then,” she said in jest, but there was a kernel of truth to her remark.
This place felt haunted to her, as though something sinister had happened in the past and needed to come to light.
“There are no ghosts here,” Mr. Carver insisted. “You need not concern yourself, Your Grace. You might hear the wind howling outside your window and echoing through the chimneys, but that is all.”
“I see,” she said.
But if that were all, then why did Alex look troubled?
He sensed something, she was certain of it.
So did she.
Why were cold tingles racing up her spine?