Chapter Seven
C hase strode across the entrance hall toward the castle’s wide open front doors, his pulse thumping as hard as his boots on the marble floor. As soon as word had reached him in his study that the carriage had arrived on the estate, he’d come downstairs to greet it…although a dark part of him wanted to grab the first saddle horse in the stable and ride away so he wouldn’t have to face Tessa. He was a bloody coward to want to avoid her.
Worse—he’d been a damnable cad to kiss her.
But he couldn’t help himself. Based on her reaction, neither could she.
The whole incident had left him on edge. But then, he also hadn’t slept last night. He had heard strange noises coming from the empty castle around him, and when he’d gone to the window to peer out at the night, to see for himself how long before dawn peeked over the horizon, he would have sworn he saw figures moving among the coastal fog that blanketed the cliff tops. This time, at least, he wasn’t foolish enough to chase after them. Figments of his troubled mind, that was all.
Still, he was more happy than he wanted to admit that he would have guests at Cuillin, if only to give him someone to blame for the noises and moving shadows. And more than happy to see Tessa again, too, although he knew the time had finally come to beg her forgiveness, and now for more than one reason.
The carriage stopped in front of the wide steps, with the luggage cart arriving shortly after. Suddenly, the castle, which had seemed so dead and empty only an hour before, now sprang to life, with the handful of servants hurrying forward to meet the carriage and tend to the trunks and bags.
Before Chase reached the front door and the tiger could put down the step, the carriage door flew open, and a blur of bobbing braids, straw bonnet, and blue muslin dropped to the ground, then rushed forward. “Chase!”
He steeled himself as the girl flew into him and pulled him down into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Winnie.” For a moment, he feared she might strangle him in her exuberance and carefully removed her arms from around his shoulders. “You’ve grown up.”
“I have,” she declared with all the confidence an eleven-year-old could muster. “You haven’t seen me for years and years, and shame on you for being away for so long!”
“Yes,” a calmer, if not just as problematic, voice echoed behind her. “Shame on you.”
When he met Tessa’s gaze, he couldn’t help but wonder if she were privately scolding him about yesterday’s kiss. So many things to beg forgiveness for…
He fought to keep a shiver of warmth from visibly showing and kept his smile on Winnie. “Welcome to Cuillin Castle, poppet.”
With that tease of the old nickname he had for her, Chase placed a kiss to the top of Winnie’s head and set her away.
“Tessa said you have horses,” Winnie spilled out, unaware of the sudden tension stretching between the two adults. She nearly bounced back outside the house to crane her neck in all directions in the hunt for any sign of stables. “Can I ride them? Oh, Chase, do say yes! It’s been ages since I’ve ridden, and I promise that I’m a good rider. The general taught me during his visits, and on a real horse, not on some tired old pony, either.” She turned to him with pleading eyes. “Do say I can!”
Before Chase could give an answer, she’d raced outside to run bouncing circles around a portly woman who was huffing and puffing her way up from the carriage. His eyes widened as he took in the sight. The woman wore what appeared to be a court gown, complete with a dozen bobbing ostrich feathers in her starched gray hair—or perhaps the entire ostrich—and skirts made of yards and yards of billowing damask.
“That must be Lady Bentley,” he muttered, eyes wide.
“All she could talk about since yesterday afternoon was being the guest of a duke,” Tessa said in a low voice so she wouldn’t be overheard. “I think she sent off a flood of letters to everyone she’d ever met in her life to tell them.”
“She has a dead bird perched on her head,” he returned in the same low voice.
“I couldn’t dissuade her from wearing her best gown and headdress.” She slanted him a narrowed glance. “You owe me.” Then she faked a pleasant smile and announced loudly, “Your Grace, may I introduce you to Lady Bentley? Lady Bentley, the Duke of Greysmere.”
The matron stopped in front of him and lowered into such a deep curtsey that Chase reached for her arm to keep her from toppling over.
“Your Grace.” She beamed, her round face red from the exertion of exiting the carriage. “I cannot begin to tell you how honored I am to be your guest at Cuillin Castle. To think that you have entrusted me with your cousin in guiding her through her season and keeping her from the dangers of society leaves me utterly and completely speechless!”
Chase cast a sideways glance at Tessa.
“You owe me so very much,” she repeated, turning her bonneted head away before Lady Bentley could see her grimace.
Suspecting he would have to add this to his list when he begged her forgiveness, he gave the matron a formal bow and a forced smile. “Welcome to Cuillin Castle, Lady Bentley. It’s a pleasure to have you here.”
She cast a wide-eyed stare past his shoulder and into the oval stair hall, where Robert Adam’s grand staircase curved up toward the reception rooms on the floor above. At that, she truly was speechless.
He gestured toward the housekeeper. “Mrs. Kennings would be happy to give you a tour of the castle and show you up to your rooms.”
“ Rooms ?” Her head whipped back to Chase so fast that he feared her ostrich feathers might be plucked from the force of it. “More than one? Each?”
Chase cleared his throat to cover the sound of Tessa’s smothered laugh. “Well, it is a castle, and all the guestrooms have their own dressing room.” Then he couldn’t resist leaning in and adding in a conspiratorial murmur, “I could give you the entire west wing, if you’d like.” When the woman’s smile began to beam, he added, “But there are rumors that it’s haunted. I think you’re all better off in the east wing with me.”
Lady Bentley’s expression turned befuddled; she clearly didn’t know how to take that.
“His Grace is bamming you, Lady Bentley,” Tessa interjected, saving the woman from having to answer. “There are no ghosts in this castle.” She shot a pointed look in Winnie’s direction, the girl having frozen with keen interest at the sudden turn the conversation had taken, and repeated loudly, “No ghosts at all.”
“No, no ghosts,” he conceded, wishing it were true. The place was full of them. Or perhaps they only haunted him.
“Oh.” Lady Bentley let out a relieved sigh.
“Oh,” Winnie echoed in disappointment.
“But there are horses and fishing ponds, lawns for bowling and pall mall, and an archery range.” He tugged at Winnie’s braid with a teasing smile and a nod toward the butler. “If you need anything at all, just ask Bates. I’ve told him that his first report is to you.”
Her mouth fell open. “Truly?”
“Aye, miss.” Bates gave her a smart salute, which sent her into a fit of delighted giggles. “Shall I take you to the stables to meet our groom Tanner and find a mount for you?”
She tugged at Chase’s arm. “Oh, can I? Please!”
“Of course. This is your home, too, for as long as you stay here,” Chase assured her. “Do whatever you’d like.”
“Within reason,” Tessa corrected sharply. Then muttered beneath her breath, “No need to burn the place down or surrender it to the French.”
Winnie gave her a thwarted look, her hands going to her hips. “You always take the fun out of everything!”
But then she was off again, this time bouncing around Bates and asking him a dozen questions a minute about the castle and what entertainments could be had here.
Chase couldn’t help but smile. Winnie had grown up so much since he’d last seen her, yet she still retained a liveliness that brightened a gray day. Her effervescence and exuberance would bring life back into this place—something he wasn’t certain had ever been here before.
“Don’t worry,” Tessa assured him as they watched the girl scurry outside behind Bates. “She won’t truly burn the place down.”
Too bad. He pressed his fist to the small of his back and directed a welcoming smile at Lady Bentley. “I hope you’ll ask Mrs. Kennings to show you the gardens after she escorts you up to your rooms. Tessa tells me you love flowers.” He bit his tongue to keep his expression stoic even as his eyes darted to her coiffure. “And birds. The head gardener maintains an old aviary that I’d love to have your input on restoring, to make it easier to sell.”
The matron nearly burst from her overly tight stays with pride at being asked for her opinion from a duke, and words of gratitude and assurance of her capabilities poured forth in a stream as Mrs. Kennings led her away.
Chase grimaced. He’d have to give the housekeeper combat pay for this.
Tessa started after them, only for Chase to stop her by taking her arm from behind and steering her toward the blue salon off the entrance hall. “A word, if you would.”
She stiffened against his hand but didn’t pull away. “If I must.”
Suppressing a grimace at her answer, he led her into the grand oval room that was a mirror image of the stair hall and where previous dukes had once held grand parties and balls to show off the castle and their wealth. Now the room was little more than a place for furniture storage, with a dozen chairs pushed up against the walls, leaving the specially made oval carpet in the center of the room bare, and all of them covered with sheets. The same with the pier glasses on the walls and the chandelier dangling from the ceiling. But the drapes on the curving windows and French doors had been left open to let in the light.
She slowly stepped out of his hold to move toward the windows, her attention snagged by the breathtaking sight beyond the glass.
“I had forgotten how enormous the views are from here.” Her voice lowered with a touch of awe. From where she stood, the curved wall of windows and doors did exactly as Robert Adam wanted—gave a sweeping, one-hundred-and-eighty-degree aspect of the length of the cliffs to the east and west. “Well,” she murmured, “if one has to live in a haunted castle, there should at least be views like this to make up for the terror.”
“You should see it in a storm,” he said as he joined her.
“I can imagine.” She rested her palm against the glass, as if wishing for no barrier between her and the outside. “It must be thrilling to experience such power of God.”
Or the devil. He turned to lean a shoulder against the thin stonework between the windows and faced her. “I owe you an apology.”
She slid him a reprimanding glance. “You owe me many apologies.”
“Then let me start with what happened yesterday.”
Returning to the view, she focused her gaze far off on the horizon and said quietly, “You weren’t yourself. Being back here surely overwhelms you at times, and you didn’t know what you were doing.”
“I didn’t mean what happened at the beach.”
“Neither did I.” She dropped her hand away. With a deep breath, she turned to face him and leaned her shoulder against the wall, mirroring his posture. “You weren’t yourself,” she repeated. “You needed comfort, and I was there.” She shrugged her slender shoulders beneath her travel coat. “That’s all.”
It was far more than just that, but there was no point in disagreeing. Let her think the kiss was simply a continuation of what happened on the beach, instead of what it truly was—an irresistible urge to have her in his arms. “It won’t happen again.”
“I should hope not.” She shoved herself away from the wall and walked back into the center of the room, avoiding his eyes as she craned up her neck to look at the chandelier and plaster medallion on the ceiling. “Next time, you might be alone with Lady Bentley, and I would hate to think about the apoplectic shock she’d suffer if you dared to kiss her.”
Despite her teasing, her response felt forced. But he would take it anyway. “So we’re friends again, then?”
“I wouldn’t be here if we weren’t.” She removed her bonnet and dangled it at her side by its ribbons. “But I’ll still do my best to talk you out of leaving again. You’re needed here, Chase. Can’t you see how much Winnie needs you?” She paused before adding, “How much I need you?”
“You don’t need me.” He joined her in the center of the room and frowned down at her. “You’re the most independent, capable woman I’ve ever known.”
She gave a light laugh that echoed through the room, stirring the old place back to life. “Try not to look so aggrieved when you say that, will you? Goodness! You make it sound like a liability instead of a compliment.”
Because it might very well be a liability if she chose the wrong man to marry. “What did Renslow say about your coming to stay here? Did he throw a fit?”
“Of course not. Robert is always understanding and never upset with me.”
A low warning bristled the short hairs at Chase’s nape. Only a damned fool wouldn’t care if Tessa lived beneath the roof of another man. “So Lady Bentley told him he could court you, then?”
She gave a curt nod and a forced smile in answer. “I hope you don’t mind if he calls on me here at the castle.”
“Not at all. I look forward to getting know him better.” He added under his breath, “ Much better.”
Her smile faded, reminding him instantly of Winnie as she repeated her sister’s earlier words, “You always take the fun out of everything.”
“I don’t want you to be hurt,” he admitted. “A mistake about who you marry could ruin the rest of your life.”
“I know that.” Her voice fell impossibly quiet. “Just as I know that not marrying could do the same.”
And if she didn’t… “What do you want from life, Tessa?” he asked. “That is, if you didn’t have to marry. What would you do?”
She paused as if she’d never considered such a thing before. “Well, I can tell you what I wouldn’t do.” She circled the room again, this time pausing to remove the white sheet from one of the mahogany and velvet chairs. “I wouldn’t be one of those women whose entire lives are consumed by society outings and saying the exact right flatterings to the right people to gain favor, by what fork goes with what course or how to dance a perfect minuet, by what dress style is the latest fashion—as if that matters to anyone outside of Mayfair drawing rooms. I want to be one of those people who are leading real attempts to make the world a better place, rather than those who make the world worse by clinging desperately to their own positions of superiority.”
A slow smile tugged at his lips. This was what he liked about her—her candid outspokenness. And what he feared someone like Renslow would come to disdain in a wife.
“A teacher,” she said decisively. She folded the sheet and dropped it onto the chair as if punctuating her admission. “I think I’d be a teacher.” She flung off the next sheet with a flourish. “But not a governess who’s trapped teaching girls useless things like watercolors and flower arranging. I would want to be a real teacher who instructs young girls on maths, rhetoric, sciences, political debates—a real education equal to what young men receive, one equal to what men can learn at places like Eton and Harrow.”
“Some would argue that those subjects are also useless for women,” he countered.
“It’s never useless to teach someone to think and reason for themselves,” she murmured distractedly, pausing as if considering removing the sheets from all the chairs. “Or to stand up for themselves and fight back.”
“Good Lord,” he drawled. “The general raised a reformer.”
Pride glimmered in her eyes. “Thank you for the compliment. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.”
His chest warmed. Having her here at the castle would be a godsend, especially if she kept saying things like that. And yet… “I lied earlier,” he admitted.
“About what?”
“The castle being haunted. There are ghosts here.”
He didn’t mean spirits. He meant memories, regrets, missed opportunities. And those haunted worse than ghouls and spirits.
He could tell from her empathetic expression that she understood exactly what he meant. “Then let’s exorcise them.” She held out her hand. “Starting right now. We can have the drawing rooms sorted and packed away by dinner.”
“Optimist.”
Her lips curled into a smile as he took her hand. He couldn’t help but stare at her mouth, remembering how spicy-sweet she’d tasted, how full of hope and comfort…
God help him, he was in trouble.