Page 118 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

Dory was sorting out her work basket for the next day. ‘I’m back,’ James said, from the doorway.

‘So I see,’ Dory said, not looking up.

‘Been in foreign parts. Got lots to tell,’ he said enticingly.

‘I expect I’ll hear about it sooner or later,’ she said indifferently.

He took a couple of steps closer. ‘Did you miss me, then?’

Now she looked up. Luckily, the basket was between her and him. ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘Why on earth should I?’

‘I thought you fancied me,’ he said. He reached out to stroke her forearm, but without her seeming to move, it wasn’t where it had been and he missed.

‘Of course I don’t,’ she said. And she didn’t say it emphatically, or spitefully. She didn’t seem to be trying to hurt his feelings, which made it all the more hurtful.

He pulled on his dignity. ‘Your loss,’ he said, and went away.

‘I don’t think so,’ she said softly, taking out a shirt and turning it over to see where it was torn.

He hadn’t noticed before, but Tilda had a bit of a moustache. Because it was gingery, like her hair, it only showed up in a certain light.

Still and all. ‘Did you miss me, then?’ he said insinuatingly.

She went scarlet, and her mouth opened, but no words emerged.

‘I been in foreign parts. Want to hear all about it?’

She nodded.

‘Say it, then. Say “please”.’

‘Please,’ she managed, her eyes fixed on his face.

‘Outside, then. By the dustbins. I’ve got something for you, if you’re a good girl.’

She was about to ask what it was, then thought she knew. And it wasn’t being a good girl that got it for you. But with James she was like a rabbit before a stoat. She had no will of her own.

The White Chinese Room had white panelling, picked out in gold, a green marble fireplace with a huge gilded mirror above it, a green and white Chinese carpet, and white damask bed hangings with gold tassels. On the mantelpiece was a collection of white jade Chinese figures, and the occasional tables and chairs were in Chinese bamboo from the Regency period. Giles thought them rather hideous, but it was certainly much pleasanter than the Tapestry Room.

‘It’s smaller, though,’ he said.

‘But much less dark,’ Kitty said anxiously. ‘And those pictures of dead animals …’

‘We could have them moved,’ he said.

‘I’d sooner have this room,’ she said. ‘If you think it would be all right.’

‘My dear, have whichever room you want,’ he said.

‘Um – but your mother … She chose the Tapestry Room for me.’

‘Isn’t that the one with the really bad mattress?’ Giles dredged up a memory – hadn’t Richard slept there once?

Kitty’s lips tightened a moment. If he had visited her in bed, he would know. But his bedroom was down the corridor from hers, and he had not come to her, though they’d been at home five days. ‘It is really bad,’ was all she said. ‘Like sleeping on rocks.’

‘Well, ask Rose to tell Mrs Webster you want to move,’ Giles said, and seeing doubt in Kitty’s face, added impatiently, ‘My mother won’t care, Kitty. She just put you in Tapestry because it’s the largest. How is Rose working out?’

‘She’s good,’ Kitty said. ‘I like her.’