Castle of Secrets by Amanda Grange Page A

he did. He’ll expect a hot meal when he gets back.
But there, it’s not his place to think of my convenience, it’s mine to think of
his.’
    They finished
their meal, and Helena retired for the night. Her footsteps sounded ominously on the stone floor,
pattering like a frightened animal scurrying for shelter, and she thought she
detected the sound of footsteps following her. Her mind worked feverishly,
trying to convince herself that any stray footfalls were merely echoes, but she
quickened her step nonetheless. Then she stopped abruptly, trying to catch
whoever was following her, but there was no extra footfall. The echo was
nothing but her imagination, she told herself, and hurried on.
    The flickering
light of her candle cast strange shadows on the walls, and she jumped at the
sound of a door creaking somewhere below. The castle seemed full of mysteries,
and she longed for the safety of her room.
    She began to
run, hastening up the stairs and along the corridor . . . and then stopped. She
quickly retreated into an open doorway as she saw Miss Parkins at the end of
the corridor, standing just outside her room. The maid’s hand was on the door
knob.
    Helena ’s thoughts began to race.
Was Miss Parkins about to go into her room? Or had she already been inside?
    What was Miss
Parkins really doing at the castle? wondered Helena . How long had she been there? What
lady had she come with? And why did Lord Torkrow allow her to remain?
    She shrank
back as she heard Miss Parkins coming towards her and, afraid of being
discovered, she slipped into an empty room. She snuffed her candle, for a
strange fear had gripped her, and it did not leave her until Miss Parkins had
walked past.
    She waited
until she was sure Miss Parkins had gone before stepping out again. The
corridor was dark, and she had to let her eyes adjust to the gloom before she
could go on. She began to regret having snuffed her candle. Feeling the wall at
her right with one hand, she continued down the corridor and fumbled with her
door knob, then turned it and went in. The fire was glowing in the hearth, and
she quickly lit her candle from the flames, then lit the other candles. She
looked around. Had Miss Parkins entered the room? She could see no signs of it.
Nothing seemed to have been disturbed. But Helena was still not comfortable. If Miss
Parkins had not entered the room, then Helena felt that she had been about to do
so. Why? Had she hoped to find something that would tell her Helena was not Mrs Reynolds? Or
had she had some other reason?
    Whatever the
case, Helena determined to lock her
door every time she left her room in future. She wanted no more unwelcome
visits.
     
    Simon, Lord Torkrow, arrived in York and then made his way to
the office that had sent him Mrs Reynolds. He went in.
    ‘May I help
you?’ asked the man behind the desk.
    ‘You supplied
me with a housekeeper, a Mrs Elizabeth Reynolds. I would like to speak to the
person who interviewed her and recommended her for the post.’
    ‘If I might
have a name?’ enquired the young man.
    ‘Lord
Torkrow.’
    ‘I will
apprise Mr Wantage of your visit,’ said the young man, bobbing into an inner
office and returning a minute later to usher him in.
    ‘Lord Torkrow,
this is a pleasant surprise – an honour, an unexpected honour. I hope all is
well at the Castle? Mrs Reynolds suits, I trust?’
    ‘Did you
interview her?’ asked Simon, taking the seat that was offered to him.
    ‘No, that was
my colleague, Mr Brunson.’
    ‘I would like
to speak with him.’
    ‘I am afraid
he is not here, he was taken ill on Monday with a putrid sore throat, but if I
may be of assistance?’
    ‘You met Mrs
Reynolds?’
    ‘No, I did
not. I read her references, however, and they appeared to be in order. We have
recommended her for positions before, and she has always given satisfaction. I
hope there is nothing wrong?’
    ‘I would like
to speak to Mr Brunson as soon as he is well enough. You will write to