Page 65 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

She rocked as their lips parted, and he set her tenderly back on her feet and held her until she had her balance. Then he released her. Never again, her mind said. She would never kiss him again.

‘I’ll go first,’ he said. ‘You wait here until you’re ready.’

‘Yes,’ she said. It was all she could manage.

‘Oh, Nina,’ he said, by way of goodbye. And was gone.

Nina stood staring at nothing, waiting for life to start up again. Whatever sort of life it would be for her now.

Dawn comes early at the end of May. After a largely sleepless night, Giles got up and put on his dressing-gown, went to sit in the window and watch the long light slip across the night-chilled grass. His mind was full of Nina, like a song and a river of tears intermingled. But when the first blackbird fluted, tentatively, then strongly, his thoughts hardened. He knew what he had to do. His feelings changed nothing. He must put her from his mind and never think of her again.

Crooks came in, surprised to see where he was sitting. ‘Is everything all right, my lord?’ he asked anxiously.

‘Is anything all right?’ Giles replied bitterly. ‘Will it ever be again?’

‘My lord?’

‘How does one go about proposing, Crooks? To a very young lady barely out of the schoolroom?’

Crooks settled his weight carefully, as though he feared that somewhere down the line his master might swing at him. ‘Well, my lord,’ he said, ‘there are forms and precedents.’

‘I knew you would know,’ Giles said, but not as though it were a compliment.

Crooks blinked, but continued, ‘It would probably be tactful, my lord, given the financial circumstances, for you to approach the young lady’s father first, and ask permission to address her. Less embarrassing than gaining her approval only to have her parent forbid the match.’

Giles stared at his manservant in a way that would have unnerved a lesser man. ‘Tell me, Crooks,’ he said at last, ‘does everyone in Town know about my “financial circumstances”? I suppose they’re all talking about it.’

‘Oh, no, my lord,’ Crooks said, and seemed surprised at the question. ‘I imagine one or two intimate friends of his late lordship might have had some inkling, but even if they did, they would never speak of it. And no-one else would have any way of knowing. I am sure society in general knows nothing.’

‘Hmm,’ said Giles. Then, abruptly, ‘Miss Bayfield is the one. I suppose you knew that?’

Crooks did not say, either way. ‘A very nice, modest young lady,’ was his comment. ‘And pretty,’ he added, as an afterthought.

Giles shrugged that away. ‘And rich.’

‘So I believe, my lord.’

‘Her parents – do you think they know I’m in Queer Street?’

Crooks winced at the expression, but said, ‘I’m sure not, my lord. Sir John and Lady Bayfield, they’re people of fashion, and received everywhere, but not what I would call in the first rank.’

Giles frowned. ‘Then how come they were invited to Dene Park as house guests? And for such an important weekend, with the King expected?’

Crooks cleared his throat nervously. ‘Er – I believe, my lord, that it may have had something to do with her ladyship … Lady Manningtree.’

‘Good God! My aunt arranged it?’

‘She is, as you know, an old friend of Lady Wroughton, my lord, and her maid, Cecile, happened to mention to me that her ladyship took tea with Lady Wroughton just before the invitations arrived.’

‘That proves nothing,’ Giles said, still frowning.

‘Indeed not, my lord,’ Crooks agreed. Which was a well-trained servant’s way of saying the opposite.

‘But how could she know?’ Giles muttered. ‘I didn’t know myself until—’

Crooks cleared his throat. ‘I believe,’ he said, looking carefully into the distance, ‘that there was – ah – a process of elimination, my lord. That certain other possibilities had been, as it were, crossed off. That is to say …’

Giles rescued him. ‘Thank you, Crooks. Hot water now, if you please.’