The Daring of Della Dupree by Natasha Lowe

Author:Natasha Lowe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster/Paula Wiseman Books
Published: 2020-08-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

In Which Ivan Draws a Picture

NOT WANTING TO GO BACK downstairs, Della tiptoed along the corridor, deciding to wait around until Tom Foolery left his room. She had time to spare. The cleaning was done, and it seemed unlikely that anyone would come looking for her.

Right at the end of the passage was a door, and Della opened it as quietly as possible, deciding to hide in there so she wouldn’t be discovered loitering in the hallway. She slipped inside, startled to find Ivan sitting on a stool by the window. He had a piece of paper spread across his knees and appeared to be sketching. Wood shavings were scattered around his feet, and a number of carvings were clustered on the deep stone sill of the narrow window.

“What are you doing up here?” Della whispered. “You gave me a shock.”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I’ve been cleaning the castle.” She held up her hand. “Since I cut my finger, Mrs. Chambers said I didn’t have to be around knives.”

Ivan grinned. “So you were exploring?”

“Sort of,” Della confessed.

“Well, I’m hiding,” Ivan admitted. “From my father. I’m supposed to be out there practicing my jousting, and I don’t want to do it. So this is where I come to escape. Here or the river.”

“You like to draw as well as carve?” Della asked, walking across the room.

Ivan shrugged. “I enjoy it. I’m not sure how good I am.”

Della pointed at a canvas that was propped on the floor facing the wall. “Is that one of yours?”

“Oh, no.” Ivan shook his head. “Definitely not. We don’t look at him anymore.”

“Him? It’s your father?” Della said, turning the picture around and seeing the red, bearded face of Lord Hepworth.

“That’s not my father. It’s his brother, James. His twin.”

“And we don’t look at him because…?”

“Because he tried to run a sword through my father and take the castle for himself.”

“Not very brotherly behavior,” Della murmured, looking at the portrait with its thick layers of paint.

“He was born second, which means he didn’t inherit the main estate. That goes to the oldest son. When my grandfather died, James, my uncle, got a pig farm that the family owns in the Highlands of Scotland, and my father got Castle Hepworth and twenty thousand acres of land, including all the surrounding villages.”

“Well, I have to admit that doesn’t seem very fair.”

Ivan gave her a strange look. “It’s the law, Della. And not only did he try to slay my father, he threatened to burn the castle and Potts Bottom to the ground.”

Della turned the picture back against the wall. “Okay, I agree. Not a nice man.”

“Where exactly are you from?” Ivan asked, giving her a quizzical look. “I’m not sure what it is about you, but you say things in a different way.”

“It’s a long story,” Della sighed, walking over to stand by the window. She didn’t look at Ivan as she spoke, because it was hard to lie and make eye contact. “The short

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