Page 73 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #1)

Kitty sensed friendship coming from this tall, rather gaunt maid. ‘Could you choose something for me to wear tonight? I’m not sure how formal it will be.’

‘Gladly, my lady,’ Rose said, pleased. It was nice when new people didn’t throw their weight around straight off. Boded well for a happy adjustment. ‘I can do your hair for you as well, if you like. I’m accustomed to doing ladies’ hair.’

First of all James sought out Crooks. Certain things had to be settled. ‘Don’t think you’re going to walk back in as his lordship’s valet,’ he said brutally, cornering Crooks in the valets’ room.

Crooks looked up from ironing Mr Sebastian’s white tie – the valets’ room had its own ironing board.

‘I’ll thank you not to speak to me in that tone of voice,’ he said, temporising.

He had been thinking for two days about the situation, unsure whether he wanted to go back to his old duties.

He was comfortable with Mr Sebastian, who didn’t need much looking after, which gave him more free time.

And less responsibility. On the other hand, there was the question of status.

He didn’t want James lording it over him; and the other servants would think less of him if he meekly stepped aside.

‘I’ll use any tone I like,’ said James. ‘The fact of the matter is I ’m his lordship’s valet.’

‘Temporary,’ said Crooks. ‘For the journey overseas, that’s all.’

‘Says you! You weren’t up to it. You were making mistakes all over the place, remember? I stepped in and saved your bacon. Lord knows what’d’ve happened if you’d gone abroad with them. You’d never have coped.’

‘I will always cope with whatever is required of me,’ Crooks said, striving for dignity.

James put on his most scornful face. ‘Oh, yes? And what would have happened in Capri, if I hadn’t been there? You couldn’t have done what I did.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Of course you don’t. But I’ll tell you.

I saved her ladyship’s life, that’s all.

She’d have drowned if it hadn’t been for me – now then!

D’you think you could’ve thrown yourself into the sea and swum to her rescue?

I don’t think so! His lordship’d’ve been a widower by now if I hadn’t taken over from you.

So don’t think he’s going to take you back after that.

You just be grateful you’ve still got a job. ’

‘I don’t – I didn’t—’ Crooks quavered. James had somehow made him feel that her ladyship almost drowning was his fault, when he hadn’t even been there. ‘How did it happen? How did she—?’

‘Never mind. You’ll hear. I’ll tell it all tonight downstairs. You stay out of my way and you’ll be all right. I’m in good with Mr Sebastian – I’ll put in a good word for you.’

‘Thank you,’ Crooks said automatically, and James had whirled away before he could think straight.

‘I don’t need a good word from you,’ he said, annoyed with himself.

How was it that James always got him in a tizzy?

An over-hot smell alerted him just in time to the fact that the iron he was holding was still resting on the white tie. Damn that man!

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.’

‘Well, if you want to look for a new lady’s maid, I think you’ll have to go to a London agency.’

‘Oh, no, I’m happy with Rose, at least for now.’

‘Very well,’ Giles said, and turned away. Markham and Adeane were waiting for him in the library. A volume of work had built up for him during his absence.

‘Wait – Giles! I have something else to ask you,’ Kitty said.

He turned back with barely controlled impatience. ‘What is it now?’ he asked, managing at the last moment to modify his tone and not snap at her.

‘This room,’ she said. ‘Well, I’ve noticed that it’s next to your dressing-room.’

White Chinese didn’t have a dressing-room. ‘You want to swap with me? I don’t really care, you can have Blue if you prefer.’

‘I don’t want to swap. What I thought was, if we moved that console we could make a door through into your dressing-room. And then you could come through into my room without having to go out into the corridor.’

She looked at him hopefully, and watched as the implication sank in.

Giles felt a quickening. He had been too busy since they’d got back to think about it – and being at the Castle had thrown him into a bachelor state of mind: it was something to do with his mother’s presence and dominance, which made changing anything, including his own status, unthinkable.

But now he did think about it, a warmth flooded his lower body.

His little pagan , he thought. Since that outburst on Capri, he had realised how much of a pagan lived inside that quiet creature.

Yes, it would be good to visit her again – and to do it without the danger of running into a staring servant.

‘That’s not a bad idea,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure how much work would be needed – these old houses were pretty solidly built. We could have the estate carpenter in to have a look. Yes, I think it’s a good plan,’ he concluded, turning away. ‘Better run it past my mother first, though.’

Kitty watched him walk out, and felt that with those last words he had doomed it.

Miss Taylor met James on the stairs as he was taking them two at a time, going up with a clean shirt over his arm. He was surprised to find himself halted by a skinny but powerful claw.

‘What?’ he demanded crossly.

She stared at him like an inimical owl. ‘Think a lot of yourself, don’t you? Think you’re very clever.’

‘I am very clever,’ he said.

‘Last I heard, you were still James, not Mr Hook. His lordship’s not confirmed you as valet, has he?’

James was going to argue that names don’t matter, but of course they did. But the best form of defence was always attack. He painted a sneer over his lips. ‘Still pining for old Crooky, are you? I reckon there was more going on between you two than met the eye.’

‘Mr Crooks is a gentleman’s gentleman. You’re not any sort of gentleman. I’ve seen it before,’ she went on, looking him over as if he were a rather inferior piece of meat. ‘You can put a necktie on a pig and call it “sir”, but it’s still a pig.’

James bristled. ‘You want to watch who you’re calling names,’ he growled. ‘People that cross me always regret it.’

She was unmoved. ‘I’ve seen upstarts like you come and go, but I’m still here. I know all the tricks your sort get up to. Just remember, Mr Still-a-Footman James, I’m watching you. I’ll always be watching you.’ And she went on down the stairs.

For an instant he felt a powerful urge to give her a shove and watch her tumble down.

Break her skinny, ugly neck! he thought.

How dare she threaten him? How dare she?

Pig, eh? He’d show her who the pig was! She thought she knew all the tricks, but she didn’t.

There were a good few of his own he had up his sleeve.

Pig! He’d get her back for that. He’d make her sorry.

Have to bide my time , he thought. Wait for the right opportunity .

But it would come – and when it did, she wouldn’t be expecting it.

He could wait. He was good at waiting. And he was good at hating.

Pleased with the rhyme, he went on up the stairs.