Midnight at Mallyncourt by Jennifer Wilde

my hand for years now.”
    â€œIndeed?”
    â€œMy affairs delight him. He admires my spirit, my boldness. And, too, there’s Lettice. He adores her. Marrying you was an act of last minute desperation on Edward’s part. The will shall be made in Lyman’s favor.”
    â€œYou’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
    â€œ Very sure, pet. I’ve been working on the old man for years, waiting. I’ve no intentions of letting it slip out of my hands now. Well, then, I just wanted to make sure we under stand each other, Jenny.”
    â€œI think we understand each other perfectly.”
    â€œMarvelous. Now we can re lax . You must tell me all about Edward. Is he superb in bed? He’s such a cold, formidable creature, so aloof—I’ve often wondered how he’d be as a lover. Quite exciting, I imagine. Do sit down, Jenny dear. Shall I ring for tea? It’s going to be so nice to have someone to chat with. We must plan things, pet. I think we should give a ball in your honor—”
    â€œNo tea, thank you. I think I’ll go on up to my room.”
    â€œYes, of course, you must be exhausted. It’s been a trying day. Well, luv, we’ll get together later. I’m serious about that ball. It’s been a long time since we’ve had any festivity at Mallyncourt, and I’m sure Uncle James will agree to it just to please me, even though he won’t be able to come down himself—”
    I smiled politely. “Good night, Vanessa.”
    â€œâ€™Night, luv,” she said sweetly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
    I took my leave of her, making my way slowly toward the back of the house. Many of the candles had been extinguished, and the hallways were dim. I passed a footman. He nodded, moving on toward the drawing room with his candle snuffer. Reaching the wide back hall, I paused, not quite ready to go back up to my room. I was tense and over-stimulated, and I knew it would be impossible to sleep for some time. The hall was icy, filled with the smells of damp stone and dust and ancient, fraying cloth. The tapestries covering the walls billowed gently with a soft, flapping noise. Candles threw long shadows across the bare stone floor. I decided to go outside for a while. An evening stroll might relax me.
    Finding a door near the west end of the hall, I stepped out onto the veranda. Paved with flagstones, it extended the length of the house in back with swirled brown stone pillars supporting the low roof. Across the stone balustrade I could see the immense back lawn, gilded with moonlight. Dark leaves rustled. A bird warbled sleepily in one of the trees. Leaving the veranda, I strolled across the grass, my satin skirt billowing against my legs. The sky was an ashy gray, and moonlight spilled over the dark clouds building up around the moon. It was a world of black, brown, silver, gray, with only the faintest suggestion of green. Nearing the line of shrubbery at the foot of the lawn, I turned and looked back at the house. Mallyncourt was a towering brown-black mass, shrouded in shadows, with hazy orange-gold squares where candles burned in windows.
    Life-sized marble statues stood at various points along the shrubbery, mellowed with age, more gray than white, sad sentinels with broken bodies and sightless eyes. Finding a white marble bench, I sat down, oblivious to the damp and the icy chill that caressed my bare arms and shoulders. I wondered if Edward was still in the muniments room, going over the estate books and domestic accounts, and I wondered if he was pleased with the way I had handled myself at dinner. I hoped so. For purely professional reasons, I told myself. I had been hired to perform a role, and I intended to perform as skillfully as I was able to. Personal feelings had nothing to do with it. Edward Baker was my employer, as he had so sternly pointed out, and I owed it to him to do my best, no matter how I might