Page 33 of Gambling with the Earl
He stalked across the stone-flagged floor towards her, his cruel face screwed up with a mixture of victory and displeasure.
Kitty tried her best to straighten up as the cold of the pillar brought her back to her senses. “I have done nothing wrong,” she declared calmly.
“Oh no,” he sneered. “You hide here and watch me reveal the whereabouts of his lordship’s coin chests and then plead innocence?”
“I am not hiding. I am merely on my way to the kitchen.” Kitty wasn’t wearing her servant’s garb, but she trusted Thomas would not notice. Thank goodness she had left her other belongings upstairs in her chamber. “You, however, were rifling through possessions that do not belong to you.”
He flinched and she saw her wild aim had hit its mark. “You are an impudent chit,” he stated. “I should have you flogged.”
“Why not put that to the earl?” Her voice was brave and strong though inside she quailed. “And I shall tell him that I saw you opening a chest and examining its contents. Mayhap looking for something small that would not be missed.”
Thomas visibly bristled, his small eyes flickering from left to right as he sought a defence. “You shall do no such thing.”
“Nor shall you,” she declared. “I suggest we both get on with our days. I, for one, have work to be doing.”
Holding her head high, Kitty left the support of the pillar and walked towards the kitchen. She was conscious of Lizzie’s straw hat, suddenly heavy on her head. How had Thomas not questioned her? It was too late now for her to leave the castle with the morning tides. She must stay at least until luncheon, which meant she must return to her bedchamber and change her clothes. But now she had set her course towards the lower floor and she couldn’t alter it until Thomas had left the Great Hall.
By the time Kitty reached the kitchen, she was cold with indecision. The morning had lasted more than a day in terms of what she had witnessed. Her head still spun with surprise over the earl’s unsuspected wealth. She wasn’t prepared for the figure of Cook, already busily kneading the bread. Nor for the sound of a bell ringing outside.
“Kitty, thank goodness you’re down early. Answer the door for me, please.”
Kitty nodded her assent and pulled back the heavy bolts from the back door. Outside, bathed in fresh morning light, was a young delivery boy. Kitty blinked in surprise. Deliveries usually came to the castle by boat, but this child had obviously run across the causeway. Worry for his wellbeing clouded her already shattered mind. He must return soon or else risk being cut off.
He thrust a letter towards her. “Take this, please miss.”
She found her voice. “I will,” she said. “You must hurry back.”
But the boy was already running as if a hound were after him, his blond curls bobbing on the back of his tunic. Though small, his legs ate up the ground easily. He would make it, she decided.
What a risk to take for a mere letter. She looked down at the folded paper for a name, but nothing was inscribed. She turned it over in her hands, noting the red candlewax and a seal as familiar to her as her own name.
Her mother’s seal. The letter was from Shoreston. They hadn’t addressed it to her. They’d just hoped she would recognise the seal. And thank goodness she had.
Hands trembling, Kitty ripped open the seal and unfolded the letter. It was from Rosalind. She would know her sister’s careful hand anywhere.
Kitty’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t read it here. There was no one about, but that wouldn’t be the case for long.
Kitty walked quickly across the yard and slipped into the old buttery, leaving the door open for light. The room was cold and full of cobwebs, for it had not been in use for many years. She shuddered to think of the rats and other creatures lurking in the corners, but her desire to read Rosalind’s words eclipsed any squeamishness.
My darling sister,
I write in perverse hope that this missive shall somehow find you. We know not even what name you are living under and beg of you to send word that you are at least safe.
Are you safe, dear Kitty? I cannot think that you are. Not in that dark and cold castle. Not with the Earl of Rossfarne as your lord and master.
I must tell you that he came here just as you left us. A great temper hung around him and Lizzie and I hid in the pantry until we heard him ride off. What he wanted with us we dare not dwell upon, for it seems likely that he came to Shoreston in search of you.
Kitty, my heart threatens to jump out of my chest with worry. You must return to us. I have no need of mother’s jewels so long as my dear sister is with me.
You will be pleased to learn that I have learned new skills in your absence. Lizzie has declared my loaves to be almost as well-risen as your own. You see, I am not some pampered miss with only a dowry to secure her future. I am resourceful and strong, just like you.
Without Father here to drain what is left of our coffers, we are doing well in Shoreston. It is only worry for you that keeps us from being truly happy. Do you remember the Erkines? They slaughtered a pig to celebrate their son coming home and were left with more ham and bacon than they could possibly store. They begged us to take some, merely to prevent the meat from going to waste. And so, we are well-fed and rested, waiting only for your safe return.
Please send word. Soon.
Your loving sister, Rosalind.
Kitty pressed the letter to her heart, wishing she could hold her younger sister so close.
