Free Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1) by Constance O'Banyon Page B

right by this child.”

 
    8
     
    Kassidy had spent four uncomfortable days in an overcrowded public conveyance. She was angry when she stepped down from the coach in the village of Ravenworth. She had very little money, and it would take most of that to pay the wet nurse and for food and lodging. She only hoped she would have enough for the coach fare home.
    With Mrs. Gibbins at her side, Kassidy crossed the street and headed toward the Blue Feather Posting Inn, with the intention of finding a room so she could tidy up before setting off for the castle.
    She looked up at the imposing fortress that dominated the small village, and for the first time, she felt fear lurking at the edge of her mind. But she must not give way to that fear, or she could not fulfill Abigail’s wish. Her strongest emotion, grief, she would give in to later. She must call on all her strength to get her through the next few hours without weeping for Abigail.
    Looking at the steep incline that led to the castle, she considered for the first time that the duke might not be at home. Then her journey would have been in vain. Her gaze moved to the battlement of the castle, and she saw with relief that his flag was flying, proclaiming he was in residence.
    A horrifying thought struck her. Suppose the reason the duke had wanted his identity kept a secret was that he already had a wife. What if he had tricked Abigail into believing he had married her when he really hadn’t? Would he even want to acknowledge the baby?
    How could she place Abigail’s baby in the hands of such a monster?
     
    Raile moved the length of his study, considering how much there was to be done to the castle to make it livable. And there were numerous other responsibilities that went with the dukedom, but had been neglected for many years. At times he wished the title and lands had fallen to Hugh, so he would be free of the burden.
    He sat down at the heavy oak desk, his gaze moving along the dusty bookshelves. The neglect had even extended to this room. Old and valuable books would have to be rebound, or they would crumble to dust. It might even be too late to save some of them.
    When the rap came at the door, he glanced up at Ambrose with annoyance. He had given instructions that he was not to be disturbed.
    “Begging your pardon, your grace,” Ambrose said apologetically, “but there is a young woman at the front door demanding to see you. I told her you were not receiving today, but she insists that she will not leave until she speaks with you.”
    “Did she give her name?”
    “No, your grace, she refused.”
    “Did she give any indication what she wanted?” he asked, irritably.
    “No, your grace. She would not say. But she did ask if you were married or had any children.”
    “I suppose it’s another villager wanting a position,” Raile signed in exasperation. “Have Mrs. Fitzwilliams tend to the woman.”
    “I would not have brought the matter to your grace’s attention, but she seems to be a lady. She’s accompanied by a servant, and an infant, I believe.”
    Raile thought of the paperwork that needed his attention. Since attempting to restore the castle, his days were filled with one crisis after another. If it wasn’t the gardener complaining about blight killing the grass, or the housekeeper insisting she did not have enough help, it was Hugh and his mother. And if that wasn’t enough, the workmen were awaiting their instructions so they could begin their day.
    With resignation, he nodded to Ambrose. “I’ll see her. But make it clear that I have very little time to spend with her.”
     
    With growing trepidation, Kassidy glanced about the imposing great hall with its high, ornate gesso ceilings. The room was enriched with colored glass and mullioned windows. Arras of gold and silk decorated the oak-paneled walls.
    At one time the castle must have been magnificent, but now it seemed to be suffering from neglect. There was a musty smell that pervaded