Castle of Secrets by Amanda Grange Read Free Book Online

bridling.
    ‘Did that suit 
Mrs Carlisle?’ she asked.
    ‘What d’you
mean?’
    ‘I mean, did
she ever ask you to take one of her letters, even if his lordship had no
letters to send? Perhaps she had something that needed to go urgently, and
could not wait.’
    ‘What kind of
thing?’ he asked craftily.
    ‘I have no
idea,’ said Helena quellingly. ‘Anything
that might need to be sent in a hurry, and might perhaps require a speedy
answer.’
    ‘No, missus,
there were nothing like that.’
    ‘Did she send
letters often, then?’
    A sly look
crept into his eye, and Helena was sure he knew something she didn’t. It seemed he could
say more if he wanted to.
    ‘No, missus. Once
a week, as a general rule. She weren’t a great letter writer.’
    ‘I see.’ She
paused, to give him a chance to say more, but he remained silent. ‘Very well,
thank you, Dawkins.’
    ‘Thank you, Missus.
Will that be all?’
    ‘No. Not
quite. I need to find out a little more about the castle, to help me with my
duties. Tell me, what other servants work here? There is a butler, I suppose?
And his lordship must have a valet.’
    ‘There’s no
butler. The last one died, and his lordship never replaced him. And his
lordship’s valet left when . . . he don’t have a valet any more. He likes to
see to himself. There’s not many as’ll work in the castle. Servants are hard to
come by.’
    He puffed his
chest out, and she realized that he was taunting her, daring her to interfere
with him, and warning her that, if she did, he might decide not to work there
either.
    ‘Then what
other servants are there in the castle besides you, Mrs Beal, Effie and Miss
Parkins?’
    ‘There ain’t no
more.’
    ‘None? How did
Mrs Carlisle keep the castle clean without any maids to help her?’
    ‘It weren’t
always that way. There were two maids here when Mrs Carlisle worked here. Sally
and Martha, they were. But they wouldn’t stay in the castle.’
    ‘Oh? Why not?’
asked Helena , wondering if he would
tell her more than Mrs Beal had done.
    ‘It was the
stories, Missus. About his lordship.’
    Helena felt her pulse quicken,
but she gave no sign of it.
    ‘What kind of
stories?’ she asked.
    ‘People likes
to talk in a village,’ he said. ‘There’s always been things said about the
Stormcrows.’
    ‘A lot of
nonsense, I expect,’ said Helena encouragingly.
    He gave
another sly smile.
    ‘You, at
least, do not seem to believe them, or you would not still be working here,’
she said, hoping to coax him into saying something further.
    ‘Oh, I’m safe
enough. Nothing’ll happen to me. There’s never anything happened to a man,’ he
said.
    He was toying
with her, trying to unsettle her.
    ‘I’m glad to
hear it. But  surely there hasn’t been anything happening to women, either?’
she asked.
    He said
nothing.
    ‘Why did the
maids leave?’ she prompted him.
    ‘It were on
account of  Mrs Carlisle,’ he said, his desire to talk overcoming his desire to
have her in his power. ‘Disappeared in the dead of night, she did, and Sally
said she heard crying from the east wing, up in the attic, and the following
day, Martha said she heard it, too. “It’s a cat,” I said to them, but they
wouldn’t listen. Gave in their notice and went home.’
    Helena felt a shiver run up her
spine.
    ‘Did you find
it?’ she asked. ‘The cat?’
    ‘Didn’t need
to. The crying stopped, so it must have got out. But it’s better not to go near
the attics, all the same.’
    ‘Oh? Why?’
    ‘Rotting
floorboards, Missus. Dangerous, they are. Could give way at any minute. Anyone
who goes up there could go crashing right through and break their necks.’
    He gave her a
devious look, and the thought flashed through her mind that she would not like
to be alone with Dawkins in the attic.
    She questioned
him further about his fellow servants, but he had nothing to say, other than
that Mrs Beal was a good cook and that Effie was a clumsy thing.
    ‘And