Mistress of Misfortune (Dredthorne Hall Book 1): A Gothic Romance by Hazel Hunter

Author:Hazel Hunter [Hunter, Hazel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

With tightly-leashed patience Thorne paced along the edge of the landing as the workmen carefully made their way out of the tower arch. One of them held tucked under his arm a broken, blackened board, which he presented as soon as they reached solid footing.

“Here’s where that wood come from, Colonel,” the carpenter said, showing him the decayed wood. “A strut under the third-floor landing gave way. What fell to the bottom broke off from this. There’s naught holding it up now.”

Thorne took hold of the piece, which felt disagreeably spongy and smelled of mildew. “What caused the support to snap?”

The men looked at each other before the carpenter said, “Likely the rot, sir. The top half of the stairs have begun to sag. Best to keep the servants out of here until we can clear out the punked wood and rebuild the steps.”

He shook his head. “I first need the flooring in the servants’ quarters replaced before the snow arrives. The tower will have to wait.”

So, it had been an accident, Thorne thought as he left the workers to pack up their tools for the day. He went to the kitchen to inform his men, who had gathered there for their evening meal, that they would have to use the center staircase until repairs could be made. It was then that he noticed his steward’s chair at the end of the table stood empty.

“Harshad has not returned from his rounds?” Thorne asked.

The cook started to reply, but just then the sound of a carriage came from the drive. “He has now, Master.”

Outside Thorne felt surprised to see his steward helping Miss Branwen out of the carriage. “Lucetta. Is something the matter? How is Meredith?”

“She was still a little unnerved when we arrived at Starling House, but I think after a good night’s rest she will recover,” Lucetta said.

“I am to tell you that she hopes to see you tomorrow night at Lady Hardiwick’s assembly,” his steward told him.

As Thorne watched, Harshad took from the carriage one case, and then another, and a satchel after that. Lucetta removed a large hat box from the seat and added it to the pile.

Thorne regarded the baggage and then the lady. “I thought you were for home.”

“I no longer have one, sir.” She folded her hands in front of her, her expression strained now as she faced him. “My brother cannot offer me his hospitality and remain the Vicar of Renwick, so I have been forced to leave his house. I wonder if I might impose on your generosity again for a room tonight. I should like to speak with you, and I have no money for accommodations elsewhere.”

“You are always welcome to stay.” Thorne asked Harshad to see to the bags she had brought, and escorted her to his study, where he poured them both a brandy.

“Thank you.” Rather than make the usual feminine fuss over spirits she took a sip and settled back in her chair.

She appeared as exhausted as he felt, Thorne thought.

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