Page 29 of The Wise Daughter

At one point, Nora saw a young scullery maid who looked too exhausted to notice Nora cross the corridor perpendicular to the one she was in. Nora shied away from any flickers of light other than the one coming from her own candle, lest she be found, but there were hardly any others about.

Once she had ventured deep enough into new areas, she found herself in a great gallery with several missing portraits. Gaps in the methodical placement of square and rectangular frames showed where paintings both large and small were missing. Most of the ones that remained were the largest ones.

“This is not the work of a petty thief,” Nora whispered. Such a thief who only sought money would take the closest valuable item and run. This sort of stealing took time and planning. This was the work of someone methodical and careful.

She held her candle up, pausing only a moment to admire a portrait of a young boy. “Are you the young Aaron who did not wish to sit still for his portrait? If so, you were undeniably adorable.”

The face held the same features, softened in boyhood, with curlier, lighter ginger hair that she imagined was so unruly the artist had to tame it on his canvas. She could easily imagine by that reluctant smile how Aaron must have argued with his mother against adorning that frilled collar.

On she walked, testing door handles and making note of unique characteristics of every corridor to remember her way.

Some doors were locked. Others opened to small parlors, superfluous guest rooms, and rooms that were entirely empty.

When she came to one especially ornate door, the hairs on her arms rose.

The door was unlocked. Inside was an expansive, well-furnished bedchamber that smelled of stale air and strange herbs.

The curtains around the bed’s posters were closed, and everything was covered in oversized sheets, probably to protect the furniture from dust. Nora walked around, testing the feel of the sheets between her fingers.

They weren’t as dusty as she might have expected for an unused room.

Just in case, she tiptoed to the bed and peeked behind the bed curtains. Empty.

Gaining confidence, she pulled off the sheet from a writing desk. Inside the drawers were old letters spread without order, a broken pocket watch relieved of its chain, wax for melting into seals, a dried ink stopper, and a mess of quills with broken tips and stripped feathers.

She gathered every letter into a neat stack and held the first letter close to her candle, its thin yellow glow barely shedding enough light to make out the words.

It was a letter to the late duke dated four months ago from Mr. Hansley about repairing the church.

The next letter was from someone Nora didn’t know, matters of business. As was the next and the next.

“Surely, His Former Grace has something here for me to peruse that is not so tiresome.”

She feared they would all be uninteresting and unhelpful until she found a letter from Aaron.

Dear Father,

It’s been three months, and I don’t like it here at all.

The boys all look at me as if I belong in another country, which I might be offended at, but they’re right.

I do! If my last letter wasn’t clear enough, I’m saying so again.

I want to come home! The teachers are stern.

German tangles up my tongue. I want Miss Bloom’s scones, and I miss the rivers and the sea and making sandcastles with you and listening to Mother’s stories.

On the letter went, begging, giving reasons why he should return.

“Poor little Aaron, yearning for home.” Nora’s heart swelled with pity for the young boy who had been sent away. “You don’t sound very grown up here at all.”

Judging by the date at the top of the letter, she guessed he had been maybe ten or eleven. There were several letters penned in his young hand, but as the dates grew closer to present times, the fewer letters there were.

“I wonder why your father kept you away. For your education? For his own privacy?” She could think of any number of reasons. It wasn’t unusual for these great men to send their boys off to school. “But why send you so very far away, I wonder.”

The next letter she read was terse but left a sour taste in her mouth and gave her much to think about.

Derricott,

I want you to know that I’ve burned that stupid letter you sent.

How dare you suggest I’ve taken advantage of you!

You know what sort of man I am. An agreement is an agreement whether or not brandy was in our veins.

I’m not responsible for promises you made under its influence.

You don’t need more time. You need to exercise authority over your son.

Find a way to make him cooperate. I never forget a debt, and I won’t let you forget either.

I trust you’ll see reason.

Bilford

So some awful agreement had been made over too many drinks, and it involved Aaron. Nora needed to learn more about that agreement.

The next letter was from the late duke’s wife. It began as a love letter. Nora nearly put it back in the desk out of respect when a few lines leapt out from the rest.

I am so sorry I could not be the wife you needed me to be. Please understand how much I tried. I am not fit for this life. I simply cannot live up to the expectations that smother me every day, and I cannot bear the thought that I bring shame to you.

Nora’s heart dropped. Poor woman. “Why did you feel so inadequate, my dear duchess?” Despite Nora’s tendency to believe she could accomplish whatever she set her mind to, the duchess’s letter was like a whisper giving voice to newly hatching worries.

What if I bring shame? What if I cannot bear the expectations?

What will Aaron think of me if I fail?

Nora lowered the letter and closed her eyes.

A soft flurry of scuffles sounded across the room similar to those she had heard while walking in the hidden passageway.

Deciding she wasn’t in the mood to be discovered by mice or thieves or any other middle of the night wanderers, she stuffed the letters into her robe to peruse later and began traversing back through the long corridors.

The layers of night that covered the castle confused Nora on the way back, sending her into more wrong turns than she cared to admit.

Her nerves bristled with uncertainty, and before long, she stopped caring about trying to be quiet.

Her blood began to rush through her, sending her down the corridors as quickly as she could go without snuffing out her candle, which was nearly spent.

The relief she felt when she began to recognize the grim faces in portraits was enough to make her ignore their judgments.

Deep, slow breaths calmed her as she reached the stairs that would lead her to her bedchamber, but her breathing refused to calm entirely.

The air was growing strange. A soft buzz of noise she had attributed to her crowded thoughts grew louder.

Cries echoed down the staircase and through the corridor, commands and clipped words becoming clearer the closer she drew.

Dozens of thudding feet stomped, making the floors groan.

Three sweat-streaked men ran past her carrying buckets.

The air, she realized, smelled of burnt things.

Her heart leapt into a sprint.

“What has happened?” she cried, as another servant rushed past. “What is happening?”

A footman Nora recognized stopped mid-run when he saw her. “She’s here! Your Grace, she’s here!” Her candle was down to a nub, but she didn’t need the light to know who was rushing toward her.

In his nightclothes, abandoning all sense of propriety, Aaron threw his arms around her and pulled her into a crushing embrace.

“Nora! Oh, Nora!” He pressed his cheek against her head, her hair strands snagging in his jaw’s stubble. The scent of smoke clung heavily to him. He was damp with sweat. After several breaths, he took her shoulders and stepped back to look her over. “You’re all right? No burns, no injuries?”

“Burns? Injuries?” Her voice quivered. “Why would I have any? What has happened, Aaron?”

“Fire. In your room.” Breathless, he hugged her to his chest again before pulling back and looking her over. “We’ve all been working to put out the fire, but I’ve been fearing the worst.”

“A fire,” she whispered, her thoughts catching up with the words. In my room.

“I never would have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you.” He ran a hand down his face, then looked her over again.

“I promise, there’s nothing the matter with me. Tell me exactly what has happened.”

He needed another long breath before he could speak.

“One of the scullery maids was finishing her tasks late. She smelled smoke but wasn’t sure where it was coming from.

She woke Mrs. Manning who alerted everyone else.

It took a bit of searching to find the source of smoke, but once we did, we’ve been working without ceasing, hauling buckets of water and smothering flames. ”

He took both her hands in his. There were streaks of soot on his forearms and clothes, which she now saw were mirrored on hers from his embraces.

“The smoke made it impossible to see whether you were in there. I tried calling to you, but there was no answer. I went in as far as I could, but it was impossible to see anything with the flames and smoke. I hoped–” He stopped and swallowed.

“I hoped you had escaped, but I thought even if you had, you might be hurt. Once the fire was under control and I didn’t think you were in your room, I went to search for you.

I’ve been returning every so often to check on the state of the fire and to see if you’ve been found.

I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re all right. ”

Though he stood steady, she could feel his hands and arms trembling.

The veins on his forearms and across his brow bulged.

This time, she leaned against his chest of her own accord, wrapping her arms around him, and listened to his heart pounding against his ribs like it wanted to stomp out the fire itself.

“I’m sorry to scare you, Aaron.”

“Where were you, Nora?” His desperate whisper fluttered her hair and tickled her face.

Tears silently spilled down her cheeks. “I was exploring the castle.”

“Exploring?” The word burst from him as if the idea were deceptively amusing.

“I had no idea my absence would lead to something like this. Curse my curiosity!”

“No, don’t apologize!” he chuckled, choking on his words while hugging her tight. “No, Nora, this was not your fault. Bless your curiosity! I don’t want you to be anything other than what you are.”

Of all the things he had said to her, this was the one that seeped into the chambers of her heart like rain into dry earth and threatened to make her love him.

“Even if this was merely an accident, I would only be relieved you are unharmed.”

Her senses prickled at his words. “Even if… Do you mean to say…”

He lifted his head and held her gaze for several seconds. “Tell me, Nora. Can you think of anything that might have inadvertently caused this? I can’t imagine you are the sort of person who is careless around fire.”

Nora already knew the answer. She had already searched her memory for anything and everything she had done in her bedchamber that night before leaving, any detail she might have missed. No candle had been left burning. Nothing was left too close to the fire on the grate. She was always careful.

“No. I can’t think of anything that might have caused this.”

He brought his lips close to her ear. “Nora, I fear this was no accident.”