The Wolf of Harrow Hall (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 7) by Christine Pope

the door. My heart lifted, and I hurried to answer the knock, hoping that Lord Greymount would be waiting outside.
    Alas, it was only the steward with the tray that held my evening meal.
    I forced a smile to my lips, even as I stepped aside so he could enter the room. “Thank you, Master Merryk.”
    He offered a smile in return, but something about it appeared rather stiff, as if he only smiled because he knew he must. Because the table where he usually placed the tray was now piled high with books, he had to go over to the dressing table and set my meal down there. “It seems you now have quite enough to keep you occupied, Mistress Sendris.”
    “Ah, yes,” I replied, knowing that a blush spread over my cheeks as I spoke. I could only hope the room wasn’t so brightly lit that he would notice. “His lordship was very generous with his library. I have rather an embarrassment of riches now.”
    “So you do.” He paused for a moment, then said, “You were exploring for a good while, it seems.”
    “An hour or so, yes.” Did the steward disapprove of his master spending time in my company? I supposed that wasn’t outside the bounds of possibility, although Master Merryk had always seemed to be very kind to me. Or was he only kind when he thought there was no chance of a dalliance between Lord Greymount and myself?
    And there is still no chance, I told myself. A bit of time spent in company with someone, and a glance that could have been entirely misinterpreted, is not quite enough reason for you to have any kind of expectations.
    “His dogs are very lovely,” I added, hoping that would be a more neutral topic. After all, his lordship had claimed the dogs as one of the chief reasons for coming to get me and show me something of the castle, although in truth, the tour had stopped short as soon as we reached the library. Did that mean Lord Greymount intended to show me more as time went on?
    Something about Master Merryk’s expression seemed to relax slightly. “Yes, they are, although they are getting as restless as all of us, cooped up day after day while the storm does its work.”
    “And there still is no sign of it stopping?”
    “None that any of us have been able to tell, even those who are stationed in the towers to keep watch. Not one break since it began. It is very strange.”
    So it was. I had certainly never experienced another storm of such ferocity and duration. It was almost enough to make one believe that some kind of evil force did lurk out in the wastelands beyond Harrow Hall, and had sent the snow and the wind and the cold out of some spiteful delight in seeing others suffer.
    Not that we were suffering all that terribly, at least not yet. I had not seen any kind of worry about the castle’s supplies, whether of firewood or foodstuffs, and so I supposed they had had a great deal laid in against the coming of winter. But the castle’s inhabitants had to be consuming food and wood at a far greater rate than originally planned. What if this storm went on and on, and gave no opportunity to replenish those stores?
    Now you are just being foolish. All storms must come to an end eventually. So will this one, and then Lord Greymount’s men will be able to go out to hunt and gather firewood.
    And escort me home, most likely. A little pang went through me at that thought. As much as I did not like being cooped up in this castle for days on end — for I was used to going out into the woods to gather herbs and leaves and bark for my dyes, even in harsh weather — I liked rather less the thought of never seeing Phelan Greymount again.
    My tone perhaps too hearty, I said, “Well, let us hope that we will all awake to a morning of bright sunshine, Master Merryk. Stranger things have happened.”
    He nodded, then took his leave of me and let himself out. I went to the dressing table and sat down, knowing I must eat quickly before everything grew cold. Once again, the meal was quite fine — roasted