The Fall of a Saint by Christine Merrill

Author:Christine Merrill
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-04-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

They mounted the stairs and he fished in his pocket for the key. The lock on the door to this wing was unusually heavy. Judging by the slight scratches in the wood and the shininess of the brass compared to the other doors, it was more recently installed. What could be here that needed to be so tightly contained?

‘I keep my slaughtered brides in the last room, if that is what you are wondering,’ he said with a sigh.

Despite herself, she started.

He sighed again. ‘I am not actually Bluebeard, if that is what you suspect. It is just a nursery, as I said yesterday. I keep it locked because...I had no need of it.’

But the strange pause told her there was more to the story.

He had found the correct key, and it turned smoothly in the lock. It was well oiled, as were the hinges of the door. When he crossed the threshold, he shivered. ‘It is good that you are dressed warmly. There is sometimes a chill in this corridor. We will not linger long here.’

It was an odd statement. In a wool coat, he should be warmer than she. Yet she felt no change in temperature. He had taken a taper from the hall and lit candles as they went, opening doors and explaining the rooms and their purposes.

If he had sought her professional opinion as a woman who had seen more than the usual share of nurseries, this one was every bit as splendid as the ground-floor rooms had been. There was none of the ridiculous ostentation of the duchess wing, nor the maze of interconnected rooms. The nursery wing was laid out quite sensibly. The main room was more pleasant than any she had worked in. In daytime, light would shine through the mullioned windows. She was sure, when she opened them, she would feel a fresh breeze and hear the faint sound of the river a few miles away.

The room would serve as a sitting room for the children and their teacher. She could see the varying doors leading from it lead to a schoolroom, a suite of bedrooms for older children and a proper nursery with cradle for little ones. The last door she opened led to a bedroom and sitting room for the governess.

She could not help the little thrill of satisfaction she felt at the sight of it. It was well appointed and cheerful, and much nicer than anything she might have expected from her last posting. This was the sort of place that suited her, not the grand room of a duchess.

She fought to control the smile as she turned back to him. She was not brought here to tend the children. He would think her quite mad if she requested to move her things to this bedroom. No matter how preferable it might be, it was not meant for her.

The duke stood, his back to her, staring out the window into the darkness. Lightning flashed in the distance and the first streaks of rain marred the glass.

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