The Tied Man by Tabitha McGowan Read Free Book Online

would like you to join her for a late formal dinner tonight.  A welcome to the Hall, if you like.’  I must have looked particularly miserable, because Henry gave me an encouraging smile.  ‘It’s not all that bad, you know.  A couple of glasses of wine and a decent meal inside you, you’ll feel better in no time.’
    A lifestyle I thought long-buried resurfaced like a bloated corpse on the surface of the oil-black water.  ‘Whatever.’
    *****
    ‘I know it seems terribly odd to begin with, but you’ll get used to the ‘candles and no leccy’ thing in no time, I promise you,’ Henry cheerily informed me as he escorted me to my room. He held an oil lamp aloft and shadows danced and flickered on the margins of my sight. 
    Albermarle Hall catered for guests who liked their heritage obvious.  After a long walk down endless panelled, tapestried corridors I had a depressing feeling that I knew what my room would be like: great swags of chintz, and every square inch covered in pewter tankards and even more stuffed dead things. 
    Henry opened the door to my room and I stepped inside, already wincing.  I tentatively opened one eye to see a Tudor facsimile of my Santa Marita bedroom in all its minimalist glory. 
    French windows hung with sweeps of ivory voile looked out onto the lake, ready to flood the vast chamber with morning sun from first light, and ancient waxed floorboards emanated subtle aromas of beeswax and lemon oil and led my eye to a bed that made my own look like some sorry workhouse truckle:  the vast white sheets seemed to glow in the lamplight and more than anything I wanted to dive onto the bank of perfectly arranged cushions and pillows and sleep for a month.  The only thing I would need to remove was a ridiculous teddy bear wearing a sweater in Albermarle colours, perched on top of the centre cushion.
    ‘It’s to your liking, then?’
    I was too exhausted to bitch.  ‘It’s beautiful. Someone’s gone to a great deal of effort.  Was this you?’
    The man flushed with a pleasure that suggested praise was a rare thing.  He was already on my side.  ‘Well, I did have a little help.’
    ‘And those roses are incredible.’ I walked across the room to touch one delicate, milky petal.  A dozen stems, some still in tight bud and others already blooming into softly fragranced splendour, stood in a crystal vase on the mahogany dresser.
    ‘Ah, can’t take the credit for them, I’m afraid.  They were grown here on the island, though.  We have a very talented young gardener.  Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll bring the rest of your luggage to your room, shall I?  Then you can grab yourself a nice hot bath and relax before dinner.’  He paused in the doorway, suddenly embarrassed.   ‘Um, I know this is rather awkward Ms Bresson, but Lady Albermarle likes me to have a quick peep in our guests’ cases, just in case they’ve accidentally brought anything with them that might be against the ethos of the island.  Would you mind awfully if I checked through your things before you unpack?’
    I was harshly reminded that this was no holiday. ‘Do I have a choice?’
    ‘Well, some people prefer Coyle to…’
    ‘No.  I’d rather you did.’
    ‘Very good.’ Henry gave a deferential nod.  ‘Dinner in an hour?’ 
    ‘Fine.’  I waited until he had left, then dropped onto the bed and swore in English, French and Spanish until I ran out of words.
    *****
    To my disappointment the cavernous bathroom didn’t have a shower, but it did have a magnificent Victorian roll-top bath that could have doubled as a swimming pool.  I filled it almost to the brim and submerged myself in near-boiling water until I felt the warmth begin to return to my aching, chilled body. 
    I exhaled and let myself sink to the bottom until my head hit cast iron with a muffled thud.  I counted to a hundred and eighty before my lungs began to complain and I had to resurface: this had been one of the exercises that