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"Someone is here," she exclaimed.
The sound, a sly, scuttling, ratlike scrabble, was repeated. Carlton leaped up and made a dash for a far comer of the room. A brief scuffle ensued; then Carlton pulled the wriggling form of the young Duke from behind the window draperies.
"How long have you been there?" he inquired in a conversational tone.
The calm voice had its effect on Henry; he stopped thrashing around and hung limp from Carlton's fist, which was clamped on his shoulder.
"All evening. You've been long enough about it, I must say."
"How many times have I told you…" The Duchess closed her mouth without finishing the sentence. She shook her head. "What a sad little snoop you are, Henry. Go to bed. Roger, call one of the servants – that wretched Victor – someone to take the boy away."
So Henry was handed over to a burly footman who promised to deliver him to his own room.
"You aren't faaaaair." His long howl echoed along the corridor.
They sat again. But there was no message, no mobility of the furniture – nothing – though they remained until the room grew cold and Maria
The Duchess was disappointed but not distressed by their failure. She attributed it to the influence of a hostile mind. She referred, of course., to the vicar; but Maria
CHAPTER TEN
"I do not suppose," Carlton said, "that you are any sort of horsewoman, Miss Ransom."
"Why should you suppose that? I dote on riding."
They were sitting at the breakfast table, together with M. Victor, who remained resolutely in his chair nibbling on petrified toast, even though Carlton ignored him completely after the first curt greeting.
"Will you join me in a hearty gallop, then?" Carlton inquired.
Maria
M. Victor choked on a crumb and turned crimson in the face before he got his breath back. Finally he managed to gasp, "Honored… I had hoped, indeed," and a few other phrases indicative of pleasure – and surprise. Maria
To her a
"After luncheon, then. You ca
Maria
At Victor's suggestion she changed her fresh muslin gown for something more practical. The uninhabited parts of the castle were dusty and unheated.
At first Maria
Most of the pictures were old, the newer portraits having been scattered through the other rooms. Some were so ancient that the features of the fifteenth- and sixteenth-century Devenbrooks could scarcely he made out. Victor had not exaggerated when he boasted of knowing the family legends. Many were tales of desperate deeds and desperate men, dark rumors of revenge, treachery, and murder.
They came to a full-length portrait of a woman, or rather a sort of Scottish Fury; a voluminous plaid draped her stately form, her dark hair writhed around her head as if blown by a gale, and in her upraised hand she held a trunkless head. Gouts of painted blood dripped from this ghastly trophy, whose eyes were fixed in a horrid stare.
"Good heavens," Maria
"The fourth Duchess, nee Lady Flora MacMonihan," said Victor. "Known before her marriage as the Iron Maiden of Monihan. The reference is to an antique device of torture -"
"I have heard of it." Averting her eyes, Maria
"Don't you want to hear about the lady? The head is of her former lover, Angus MacGonigal, who had a
"No wonder." Maria
"Ah, they were barbaric times, to be sure. Not like -"
"Sir!" Maria
" 'Tis begging your pardon I am. The place is chilly and I thought -"
"You thought wrong. I have seen enough." She turned and started back the way they had come. With an agile leap Victor barred her path.
" 'Tis shorter by the way I'll be showing you. Ah, now, don't pout at me, that's a darling; I'll be behaving myself after this."
His ma
They passed through the heavy oak door at the end of the Portrait Gallery. Victor shut it carefully behind them and proceeded along a stone-flagged corridor lighted only by narrow slits high in the wall.
" 'Twas the passage to the old kitchens and scullery. Indeed but the food must have been icy cold before it reached the Banqueting Hall."
He continued to chatter, interspersing bits of historical information with courteous warnings about broken flagstones and other impediments to walking. The darkness imperceptibly thickened as they went on, but Maria
"Come, now, it's private we are, and no one to see us at all, at all. Give us a little kiss to start, me darling, and then we'll -"
Momentarily Maria
He let out a howl of pain and relaxed his hold. Maria
"Wait." The tutor's voice, close behind her, made her turn quickly. She was no longer afraid, for a hearty scream would undoubtedly fetch help. What a contemptible-looking creature he was, nursing his cheek with one hand, his shoulders bowed and his eyes narrowed.
"Stand back," she said. "I don't want you near me."
"And no doubt you'll be off to Her Grace and tell her what happened."
"No doubt."
Victor made a sudden move. Maria