The Dark Viscount

‘I hope you’ll be able to find some decent groomsmen way out here,’ Henry said, looking down at the hat in his hand.

‘You’re welcome to stay on, of course. You and Clarence both,’ Kit said, though Sydony knew they had discussed this before.

‘Thank you, sir, but it just isn’t my home here. I’ll miss the team and all, though.’

‘Of course, we shall take care of them, personally, until we can hire some trustworthy,’ Kit assured him. ‘And you must let us know how you get on at the Fieldings’.’

‘I will, sir.’

Before things turned really maudlin, Sydony cleared her throat. ‘Well, since there seem to be no servants about, I’ll see what I can muster up for our dinner. You and Clarence come on back to the kitchen once the horses are bedded down.’

‘Shall we look for a room for you?’ Kit asked.

‘No, sir. We’ll be just fine out in the stables. There’s a separate area with cots.’

‘Very well. Thank you, Henry,’ Kit said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but it had all been said. Sadly, their groomsmen, their cook and their maids had elected not to move to parts unknown. And right now, Sydony could not blame them. Lest she be tempted to take the mail coach back with Henry and Clarence, she set to work. Throwing her cloak over a chair, she stripped off her gloves and went searching for edibles, while Kit started a fire in the open hearth.

Before long there was a nice blaze going, which put forth both warmth and cheer, though the room itself was not exactly homely. Sydony told herself that a good scrubbing and some bright paint would help, though there was no altering the fact that the house was old, with its own style and quirks. A more pessimistic sort might deem it a medieval horror right out of the most popular novels, but Sydony refused to acknowledge the possibility.

For Kit’s sake, if not her own, she needed to keep such thoughts at bay. Besides, everything would look better in the morning, she told herself as she shook out a cloth and laid it upon a corner of the work table. They would eat here, for, despite her good intentions, she hadn’t the heart to tackle any other room at the moment.

Kit found some lanterns that added more light, which improved the atmosphere, and Sydony was grateful. Not knowing what lay ahead today, she had asked for a packed basket when they stopped for luncheon, so there was cold chicken, salted ham, wedges of cheese, a fat loaf of bread and apples for their supper. Thankfully, at some point water had been piped into the house, and Kit produced a bottle of wine that was most welcome.

But when all four of them were seated, it was a sad little group, everyone well aware of their parting on the morrow. Henry made obvious his disapproval of the whole situation, muttering about a godforsaken place without a soul to even greet them properly.

‘Now, Henry, you are talking about my country estate,’ Kit said, while slicing himself more cheese. ‘Don’t you think I’m suited to be a gentleman farmer?’

‘More suited to be that than a gentleman scholar,’ Sydony said, and they all laughed. But even Sydony’s wit and Kit’s good humour could not entirely relieve the sense of a gallows bird’s last meal that hung over the company.

That mood only grew stronger after the coachman and his boy left for the stables and Kit and Sydony went in search of some beds. It was full dark outside, though the storm had abated, as they made their way back to the hall, its musty smell more pronounced after the relatively odour-free kitchen.

‘Look at this wonderful staircase,’ Kit said, as they approached the steps that led from the ground floor up to the first. It squared off, leading up to an open landing, before turning upwards again, its dark wood carved into intricate patterns that seemed a bit busy to Sydony. However, she was loathe to discourage her brother. Someone had to see the bright side of this experience, and Kit was obviously bursting with some sort of male pride of ownership that failed to move his sister.

When they reached the landing, Sydony lifted her lantern towards the looming darkness. ‘What is this?’ she asked. The glow illuminated heavy wooden planks that appeared to be been nailed across the wall.

‘Maybe they’re covering a broken window,’ Kit said. ‘In a place like this, there might have been a stained glass one that would cost a lot to replace.’

‘But a window in the kitchen is boarded up, as well.’

‘Could be more than one has broken over the years,’ Kit said.

Sydony lifted a finger to touch the raw wood, so out of place among the trappings of a medieval manor house. It seemed that someone had gone to an awful lot of trouble to cover up every inch of what lay beneath, but perhaps that was to keep any air from entering. The house was draughty enough without a gaping hole in the wall.

Upstairs, as they wandered from room to room, Sydony noticed more unusual window coverings, this time heavy wooden interior shutters. ‘The place is closed up tighter than a drum,’ she muttered.

‘Maybe Great-aunt Elspeth had an aversion to light,’ Kit joked.

‘Or perhaps a cyclone came through, blowing out one entire side of the house,’ Sydony said drily.

Oddly enough, it did seem that one side of the house, especially, was battened down, and all the windows facing that direction tightly shuttered. Curious, Sydony tried to open one, only to find it nailed securely. ‘Why, you can’t even loose them.’

‘Maybe the place was shut up after Great-aunt Elspeth died,’ Kit answered, obviously not too concerned.

Sydony turned round, trying to get her bearings. ‘But it’s mostly the rooms facing the rear of the house, as did the landing on the stair, that are completely covered.’

‘Maybe the winds are fierce from that direction,’ Kit said.

‘But there must be closed windows behind them,’ Sydony said. Lifting a hand in front of the shutters, she felt no draught. ‘Why nail them shut?’

‘She probably thought they rattled. You know how old ladies are,’ Kit said, over his shoulder. ‘It doesn’t look like these rooms have been used in some time, so she might well have had them shut up.’ Obviously uninterested, he was already moving on, but Sydony couldn’t rid herself of the notion that something wasn’t right.

Why would anyone nail shutters closed, and only those in certain rooms? She shook her head, turning to follow her brother, but the sensation lingered, fuelling her growing uneasiness about the turn of their fortunes.

When they had finally found suitable rooms, Sydony unpacked some clean linens and made up the beds. Kit was surprisingly helpful, although he jested about pursuing a life in service as an upstairs maid. Though her brother remained cheerful, Sydony knew he must be dismayed at the general condition of the house, which should have been prepared for their arrival by a staff set to greet them.

‘No doubt the solicitor misunderstood our arrival date,’ Sydony said to cheer him, though she wasn’t so sure.

Surrounded by a few of her own possessions, Sydony settled in to sleep with the knowledge that Kit was right in the next room. And yet, the fact that they were the only two residents made the strange house seem preter-naturally quiet, as did their location, far from any neighbours, known or unknown. Only the wind howled its welcome, keeping her awake long into the night and moving into her dreams, where unnatural Gothic settings shifted and transformed into her new home.

The silence woke her. At least that’s how it seemed. Perhaps the foul wind had finally abated. More likely, it was the lack of the usual morning bustle, servants lighting fires and fixing breakfasts, that made Sydony blink confusedly. Here in her new surroundings, all was quiet, except for a faint whistling through the window frames.

For a long moment Sydony lay there as awareness seeped through her. In days past, Rose would be opening the curtains and chiding her to get up and join her father, who would be breakfasting over a book, and everything was as familiar to her as her own reflection. But those days were gone, and as pressure formed behind her eyes at that acknowledgement, Sydony blinked and sat up.

She had Kit and a home and was grateful for both. She even had windows without shutters in this new room of hers, Sydony thought with a smile, and she saw that the morning had dawned bright and clear. The events of the night seemed dreamlike now, a product of weariness and darkness and isolation. She was determined that today would be better, and she hurried through her toilet to go downstairs, only to find Kit already at the work table in the kitchen, eating what was left in the hamper.

‘We need to find some chickens and steal their eggs,’ he said, with his mouth full of cheese, and Sydony felt her heart swell. When he pushed a steaming bowl towards her, she leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

‘What’s that for?’ he asked, between forkfuls.

‘Can’t a sister give her brother a nice greeting?’ Sydony asked.

‘You’re just glad that I found some tea,’ Kit said.

‘You know me too well,’ Sydony said, reaching for the bowl. She could do without some things, but not her morning tea.

‘How did you sleep?’ Kit asked, and Sydony hesitated. No doubt her brother had snoozed like the proverbial log and would take personally any complaints that she had not.

‘It is a bit peculiar, being so quiet,’ Sydony said, as tactfully as possible.

‘We’ll get a new staff soon. Then it will sound more like home. And you won’t have to cook for us,’ Kit teased.

‘I can cook quite well, thank you,’ Sydony said, making a face. And it was true. Growing up without a mother, she had often shadowed the servants at their tasks and had learned enough to make do, if necessary. The sudden loss of her mother also had made Sydony aware of how quickly circumstances could change, and she became determined to fend for herself, whether in the kitchen or on horseback or behind the barrel of a pistol.

‘Will we be able to afford enough servants to keep this up?’ Sydony asked, taking in their new home with a wave of her hand.

‘It is larger than I anticipated,’ Kit said. Rising to his feet, he walked to the window as though concentrating on the grounds, not the house. Typical male. ‘Well, we are to inherit some money, too, so I hope we can manage to run the place, as well as tidy it up a bit. We shall know more when the solicitor arrives.’

‘If he arrives,’ Sydony said.