Page 11 of Secrets of Capell Manor
“I… don’t know,” Ridley said hesitantly.
But Devlin was sure Ridley lied. “What did Lady Rosalind say in response?”
“Milady. She’s no mouse, you know. She stood right up and called him a drunk sot and told him he’d have plenty of money if he didn’t drink so much and piss it right in the chamber pot,” Ridley said proudly.
“I don’t guess Lord Edmond took this well?”
“He sure didn’t. He reached right across the table and slapped her hard across the face. I got so angry. I started to reach for a knife, I did, but Benton said he would handle it and pushed me toward the kitchen. He said to get Kaylyn and Luella and go hide and not to come back until Benton said it was all right to do so.”
“What did you do?”
Ridley’s eyes grew wider and his freckles stood out in sharp contrast to his pale face. “I ran to the kitchen and told the girls we had to hide. And that’s what we did. We hid. We hid until Benton said it was safe to come out.”
“And when was this?” Devlin asked.
“It was late. The girls and I had fallen asleep. Benton came and woke us, and we went straight to our rooms and crawled in bed.”
“Did you have to take the girls and hide very often, Ridley?”
“More often than I’d like. But we had the perfect hiding spot. We only had to wait until the old lord passed out, and then it was safe to come out,” he explained matter-of-factly. “I only wish milady would have hidden with us.”
“And what of Lady Rosalind? Did you see her before you went to your room?”
“No, no, I didn’t. The girls sleep upstairs, and I sleep down here in a room off the kitchen. She wasn’t in the kitchen or great hall when I went down, but she was up in her chamber, I’m sure.”
Devlin thought for a moment and began to see a clearer picture of what life was like here at Capell Manor—and it was not a pleasing picture at all.
“Ridley, that will be all. You can return to your chores.”
It seemed to Devlin that Lord Edmond was losing money and turned his angst toward Lady Rosalind. His blood boiled at the thought of Rosalind being struck by her guardian. But what did he mean when he said she would have to earn her keep? Titled ladies did not work, not as servants, nannies, or anything else; that would be scandalous.
But the children were orphans. They lived here only because the lord had allowed it, so why did he? So far he had learned nothing of Edmond’s character that would suggest he would support two orphaned peasant children.
There was much to think about, but Ridley appeared and told him Mr. Danby had arrived back and was unsaddling his horse in the stable.
Oh good. Maybe Alden learned more than I have today.
Benton met him with his cloak at the door. Devlin donned the garment and walked out into the brisk, damp air.
The sun was shining, but its rays did little to cast warmth into his body. He looked at the manor house that once stood proud but now looked tired and neglected. Edmond didn’t spend money on the upkeep of his home, that much was certain.
The sprawling manor consisted of two levels and then a third-level attic space that at one time would have housed servants. Brown vines crept up the weathered stone walls and into the cracks where the stone crumbled away. Perhaps in the summer, when the vines were green and full, they hid the crevices and faults in the masonry. Capell Manor boasted several glass windows, and those on the main floors were clean and clear, but those on the third were covered with grime, and one was broken.
Then his gaze panned left and right, and he assessed Edmond’s lands. The fields were level to rolling, and a forest of hardwoods bordered the estate to the north. There was potential here for a prosperous estate. If he needed money, why had Edmond never cultivated the land?
A well-worn path led to the stable. Young Ridley wrestled a large saddle off Alden’s horse.
Alden stepped up to help the boy, but he muttered, “I’ve got it.” And just as he appeared to topple with the weight of the gear, he righted himself and dragged the saddle over to a rack, placing it there. He returned to the horse and began brushing its white hide with a soft brush.
“The boy has a way with the horses,” Alden said as Devlin approached.
“Young Ridley seems to be a hard worker,” Devlin acknowledged. “But grooming doesn’t prove he’s a good horseman.”
Alden shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But that demon of a horse of yours enjoyed a good groom and several treats just before you walked up.”
Devlin stared in disbelief at his friend, but he didn’t come out to speak about Ridley or horses for that matter. “Tell me. Did you find anything useful?” he questioned with a clipped tone.
“Not much,” Alden replied.
