Chapter 3
Nessa followed closely behind the butler – his name was Mr. Carrow – as he led her through the castle.
While Nessa had spent two days staying at the castle, she had seen practically none of the giant mansion, and as she had assumed her time there would be short, she saw no reason for that to change.
How wrong she was …
“This is the morning room.” Mr. Carrow stopped by the large entrance to the room. He did not walk inside but gestured with a sweeping of his hands. “Do you know its purpose?”
Nessa blinked. “The purpose of a morning room?”
“Yes.” He raised a questioning eye at her.
“Yes, I do,” she said with a hint of annoyance. Mr. Carrow had acted in such a way all morning, treating Nessa as little more than a common street urchin who had somehow managed to trick her way into her new role.
“Very well.” He turned and strode away. “This way, thank you.”
She sighed, glanced at the opulent morning room, and hurried after Mr. Carrow.
The last eighteen hours had been akin to finding oneself trapped in the center of a hurricane.
To fight it was fruitless, to try to persuade its direction was pointless, and all one could do was stand perfectly still while praying that things found calm and that one came out the other side in one piece.
She had expected Lord Thornwyck to come to see her.
After being dismissed by him the previous day, Nessa had waited in her room as she went over what had happened and what she would say.
While she had not asked for this, nor did she know why it had happened, she was determined to do right by Lady Honora.
For whatever reason, her previous employer wanted her to work here, and Nessa would do her proud.
It helped, too, that she had nowhere else to go.
That was a depressing and humbling realization, but it made this decision easier to accept. Nessa had spent the past year living in the south with Lady Honora. Before that, she lived with her mother in Ireland.
If she refused this posting, then she would have to return to Ireland, and that would be to a life with no future. After all, was that not why she agreed to be Lady Honora’s companion in the first place?
She could not fathom what might come from this, but for now, it gave Nessa a purpose, and if she were lucky, it might one day give her a home.
“Up ahead is Lord Thornwyck’s study …” Mr. Carrow announced as they walked quickly through the castle.
What Nessa had hoped for was a chance to speak privately to Lord Thornwyck. She knew he must have been shocked by this development, and she wanted to assure him that she had nothing to do with it. She did not wish him to think that he was being tricked or trapped, and she needed to clear the air.
Annoyingly, he did not come to see her.
Mr. Carrow had taken her under his wing yesterday, but only to assign her to her new room. There, he told her to wait until he had time to show her the castle and teach her what she needed to know. And wait she did, all afternoon, and all night … and for a few hours the following morning.
She got the distinct impression that she was not wanted, and while that made her burn with the desire to simply leave, Nessa had to believe that Lady Honora did this for a reason.
I am meant to be here. I just wish I knew why.
“And here we have Lady Verity’s feather room.” Mr. Carrow came to a stop by another room with a large entrance.
Nessa stopped short, eyed the doorway, and blinked. “A feather room? Ought I to know what that is?”
Mr. Carrow smirked. “In this instance, you will be forgiven for your ignorance.” He indicated with his head for her to take a peek inside.
To call the room strange would be an insult to the word.
Nessa peered into the large room and gasped because she had no idea what to expect, even if the name of the room should have given it away. It was, as told, a feather room.
A dozen glass cabinets lined the walls, and in each were dozens, maybe hundreds, of feathers. They were of different colors, plucked from different birds, and they were displayed as if their worth was immeasurable.
“What on earth …” Nessa turned back. “I have never seen anything like this.”
“I doubt that many have.”
“This is Lady Verity’s personal room?” she pried. “To what end? What is its purpose?”
“You will have to ask her,” he said. She raised an eyebrow in question, and he sighed. “If asked, I will deny that I said it. But I would advise you to do your best to remain on Lady Verity’s good side.”
“Is she not very nice?”
“She is esoteric,” Mr. Carrow corrected.
“Unmarried, and as far as I am aware, she has never shown an interest. Her love is this estate, and since the passing of Lady Thornwyck, she has taken on the role of the estate’s headmistress.
She has a way of doing things, and should she think that you mean to interrupt them …
” He clicked his tongue. “Best to do as you are told.”
Nessa nodded along. While she had little to do with Lady Verity, she had noticed a coldness emanating from the woman. Nessa thought it was personal, but perhaps that was just her way.
“But she is close to Lord Thornwyck?”
“Very close,” Mr. Carrow said. “She cares for him; of that, there is no doubt. So, should you do your duty, you have nothing to fear. Shall we continue?”
Nessa gave the room a final glance … it was just so odd! Then she turned away, smiled her willingness, and fell in behind Mr. Carrow.
From there the tour continued.
Thornwyck Estate was a large castle that sat flush in the middle of sweeping moorland as far as the eye could see. The castle itself was built of gray stone, its design one of looming towers and large halls that made it appear bigger than it really was.
It was not warm. It was not welcoming. And as Nessa was shown around, she wondered if that might ever change.
She was shown the library, the drawing room, the various sitting rooms, and the chapel by the covered walk.
She was shown the kitchens, the stairs she was to use, and the gardens – which she was only to use when told.
The tour went on for some time, and while most of it was standard, she committed it all to memory, determined to do her best.
For Lady Honora …
By far the most interesting part of the tour came toward its end. Mr. Carrow was walking down a hallway on the second floor in the western wing, Nessa right behind him, when Lord Thornwyck appeared from around the corner.
She started when she saw him, and a wave of nerves flooded her.
He was just so intimidating. His size was one thing, not to mention his messy hair and rugged beard.
But it was those eyes that undid her completely.
They found her stopped in the hallway; she expected recognition to pass behind them, because surely he wanted to speak to her.
Instead, his stare hardened, swept over her once, and she was struck by the sudden sense that she had done something wrong.
“This way,” Mr. Carrow said to her.
“Ah, My Lord …” Nessa stepped across to block his path. “Might we speak for a moment?”
He stopped walking and frowned at her as if confused. “About?”
“I …” She swallowed, suddenly unsure. “I wished to thank you again and –”
“As I said yesterday, my grandmother is who you ought to thank. I am merely following her wishes.”
She grimaced. “Be that as it may, I wish to assure you that I had nothing to do with her request. Believe me, I am as surprised as you surely are.”
“I am aware,” he said simply. “Unless you mean to suggest that I believe you somehow conspired your way into my service?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Very good then. Is there something else?” He looked at her with those dark eyes. There was still that same sadness in them, and whatever he felt, Nessa was sure it had nothing to do with her.
In fact, she got the distinct sense that she did not occupy his thoughts at all. And while that ought to have been a relief, for some reason, it annoyed her.
And after I spent all evening worrying about what he must think of me!
“Nothing else,” she said with a forced smile. “I just wished to … that is all.”
He looked at her one final time; it was with confusion, as if he did not understand why she had bothered talking to him. And then he walked away, striding down the hall as if she were not there.
“I would advise that you not speak to Lord Thornwyck unless directed,” Mr. Carrow snapped. “I do not know how things were done under Lady Honora, but that is not how we do things here.”
She looked at where the earl had just vanished, caught between annoyance that he had dismissed her with such nonchalance, and anger at herself for caring that he did.
“I am sorry.” She pulled herself away and looked at Mr. Carrow. “Shall we continue?”
He looked at her flatly. “This way, thank you.” Then he turned and strode down the hall.
She hurried after him, cursing herself silently for making a fool of herself, while shoving down that burning sense of helplessness and loneliness because that encounter proved what she had already suspected but knew now for a fact: she really was alone.
***
“How was your first day?” Morag the cook asked as Nessa plonked herself down on a kitchen stool.
It had been a long day, lots of walking, lots of paying attention and committing things to memory without being told the purpose or what exactly she needed to remember. The basic gist appeared to be that everything shown was important, and so best to cram as much into her memory as she could.
Only when early afternoon came did Mr. Carrow dismiss Nessa. He told her to visit the kitchens to eat and then return to her room until she was called upon. Still, she had not been assigned a direct task, and Nessa could not help feeling that this was on purpose.
They do not want me here, and they are not being very subtle about it.