Free Mesmerized by Candace Camp Page A

retorted. “No one needs the full-time services of a maid, least of all me.”
    “Yes, yes, I know your views on the subject. But just this one time? For me?” Kyria smiled persuasively at her. “And think of Joan—she would love a trip, wouldn’t you, Joan?”
    Joan looked faintly surprised but quickly agreed. “Oh, yes, my lady, a trip would be lovely.”
    Olivia sighed and, after a few more token protests, gave up. A maid was unnecessary, and she did not, after all, need to appear any lovelier than she really was, but…she could not help but think with pleasure of how she would look in the made-over dresses and wonder what Lord St. Leger would think of the changes.
    So it was that when she set off the next week for her trip to Lord St. Leger’s estate, she carried in her trunks two stunning gowns made over from Kyria’s stock and a number of her own clothes remade into far prettier frocks, and was accompanied on the train ride by two supposed servants. It was pure vanity, she knew, that she could not help but admire the new look of her travel-durable plain brown gown, now softenedby a collar that framed her throat gracefully and decorated at the shoulder with a jaunty bit of gold braid. Joan had insisted on doing Olivia’s hair this morning, and though she had kept the general style of a bun at the nape of her neck to which Olivia was accustomed, she had somehow made the hair around her face softer and fuller instead of pulled back tightly into a knot. It was strange, Olivia thought, how she could look so much the same and yet so much prettier. She was unaware of how her own inner excitement had added a glow to her cheeks and a sparkle to her brown eyes.
    Her little party was met at the train station in the village by St. Leger’s carriage and coachman. Tom helped the coachman stow their bags, then climbed up to the high seat to ride with him, while Olivia and Joan got inside. The plush seats were comfortable and the carriage well sprung, and Joan soon nodded off as the coach swayed rhythmically along, but Olivia was far too tense and excited to rest. She pushed back the curtain nearest her and looked out at the countryside that rolled by, eager to catch her first glimpse of Blackhope.
    Finally she saw it, its light stone walls glowing almost golden in the rays of the setting sun—a sturdy Norman keep with steep blank outer walls, castellated at the top, and behind them the taller upthrust of the round tower, its stone walls broken only by narrow archer slits in the traditional shape of a cross. She drew in her breath sharply, some deep emotion stabbing into her chest.
    For a moment the image shimmered before her, and then, as she blinked, it was gone.
    Olivia stared in amazement, her heart picking up its beat. The house that lay on the hill in the distance was no ancient castle built for warfare but a sprawling stone mansion of differing levels, obviously added onto and enlarged, its only resemblance to the keep she had seen a moment before the fact that it was built of the same sort of light stone warmed by the dying light of the sun.
    She leaned closer to the window, scarcely able to believe her eyes. She closed her eyes and reopened them slowly. Still the more modern house lay there. There was no ancient Norman keep.
    Olivia sat back, clasping her hands together in her lap. She was glad that Kyria’s maid was not awake to see the doubtless stunned expression on her face. What had she just seen?
    She could picture the castle in her mind’s eye—flags fluttering from the top of the battlements, the drawbridge down and huge gates open. It had been so clear, so real! Olivia leaned over and once again looked out the window. Still no castle sat on the horizon, only the graceful house.
    As they drew nearer the house, she stared at it intently, trying to determine how her eye had somehow been tricked into thinking that she had seen an early Norman castle. She had spent too many years around her great-uncle