The Girl in the Gatehouse by Julie Klassen Read Free Book Online

the funeral, a black band on his sleeve.
    “I know. Hypocritical, no doubt. But society expects it.” He shrugged. “She was not a bad old girl, just had no place marrying my father. Can’t say I am sorry she is gone, but I did not wish her dead. Well, I may have wished it, but rest assured I did nothing to hasten it.”
    “How . . . kind,” Mariah said, making little effort to conceal her sarcasm.
    “And here you are in black, Miss Aubrey. A horrid old gown, I must say. It doesn’t suit you.”
    “I quite agree. But it is all I have for mourning.”
    “Well, do stay far from the great house in those weeds. I will be showing it to potential tenants and I don’t want them seeing you and believing the place haunted.”
    His words held no rancor, and she found the man oddly amusing in spite of herself.
    His face creased into a smile. “Unless you think that would give the place a certain gothic appeal?”
    She was about to return the smile when his words registered. “Tenants? You are not selling Windrush Court?”
    “Selling, no. At least not yet. But with the London townhouse, I have little use for this big place. And a great need for income.”
    “I see.”
    “Speaking of which. My steward tells me you pay not a farthing for the gatehouse. A situation I mean to redress. Nothing personal, my dear Miss Aubrey, you understand. I would say you are an ornament about the place and allow you to stay as you are, but not with black upon your person.” He gave a theatrical shiver.
    “I could change,” she offered meekly.
    One dark brow rose. “Could you, Miss Aubrey? Miss Mariah Aubrey of Milton? For I was speaking of more than the gown.”
    And then it was Mariah’s turn to shiver.

    Captain Matthew Bryant followed a man in livery across the entry hall of Windrush Court, his boot steps sending echoing reports through the high-ceilinged space. Might it all really be his one day?
    He had first gone to Wesley Park, beyond Bourton, the day after he was thrown from his horse. But the elder Wesley had refused to sell or even to let his empty house to a naval captain, muttering complaints about how the navy “allowed men of low birth unnatural distinction.” Matthew still bristled at the thought.
    But from what he had heard, Hugh Prin-Hallsey held no such compunction. He had let it be known he was looking to let his ancestral home. Rumor was he needed the money. And money was one thing Matthew had – naval captain or not. Matthew had already met with Prin-Hallsey’s steward. He hoped today’s meeting would finalize the bargain.
    Ahead of him, the footman opened the door, and Matthew stepped into an impressive paneled library.
    “Captain Bryant,” the footman announced and withdrew.
    Behind the ornate desk sat a gentleman perhaps six or seven years older than himself, with hair nearly black and features showing the first signs of dissipation.
    The gentleman rose. “Hugh Prin-Hallsey. Welcome, Captain.” The two shook hands, and Prin-Hallsey swept his gaze over Matthew’s new civilian clothes, a Carrick coat with several shoulder capes and a simply tied cravat. “Out of uniform already?”
    “Yes. Regulations – I am no longer on official duty nor on my way home. In fact, I have been on shore more than a fortnight.”
    Prin-Hallsey gestured toward a chair and reclaimed his own seat. “Discharged?”
    “Paid off and without a ship at present. So, until another commission is offered me, it is time I find my land legs again.”
    “Have you no family?”
    “I do. My mother and father live in Swindon.” Matthew anticipated seeing his parents with a mixture of fondness and dread. He would wait until he had found a house before he visited again.
    “But you are a bachelor, I take it?”
    Matthew nodded. But hopefully not for long .
    “What use has one man for such a large place?” Prin-Hallsey asked, steepling his fingers.
    Matthew frowned. “What need have you in knowing my motivations, sir?”
    The man