Free Fascination -and- Charmed by Stella Cameron

of servants quite out of hand. They have—have—mutinied!”
    “Mama. We are not at sea.” Although from the
    violent winds that battered the windows, they might as well be. Grace turned her eyes determinedly from the dark menace beyond the glass. “I have no position in this household. Which is exactly what I wish to discuss with you.”
    “I should think so.”
    This was not getting in the slightest bit easier. “I have made an error. A grave, grave error.” Wind had frightened her since she was a little girl, and nowhere had it ever sounded so furious as here.
    “I’m glad you finally see things my way.”
    “Coming here was a mistake.” There, she had finally said what had to be said.
    “An error?” Mama sat more upright on the chaise and let her fan drop open. “What can you be saying?”
    Grace trailed around the beautiful little drawing room on the floor below her bedchamber. Her mother was right in saying that, although the castle appeared in perfect repair, it was sadly in need of a very good cleaning. Beautiful things met the eye wherever one looked, and despite an oppressive abundance of armor and weapons and rather nasty stuffed animals in spots, Grace thought that for a castle—not that she’d ever been in a castle before—Kirkcaldy was remarkably tasteful.
    “Grace, answer me at once.”
    “I like this drawing room better than the old marquess’s, don’t you?”
    “Yes. Stop avoiding my questions, my girl. And stop suggesting that you should have done other than accept Mr. Innes’s marvelous offer.” Mama closed the fan and pointed it at Grace. “You are twenty-four years old. Twenty-four. Had you been a son, the picture would have been entirely different. As a son you would have cared for me after my dear Ichabod died, and I should never have had a moment’s worry. Not a moment! But you are not a son
    and you are on the verge of becoming an old maid. If I were to allow you to do so, what would become of us then, I ask you? What?”
    “We should have to learn to live within our means,” Grace said quietly.
    “Oh!” Mama fell back against the cushions. “Oh, I cannot believe I am hearing this. Our means? Our means, you say? What means, you little sapskull?”
    “Papa left—”
    “Your sainted papa left enough to keep me in a modest manner for the rest of my life—should that be very short—and to provide for you until marriage—a very early marriage. Need I remind you that you have caused my dearest Ichabod’s plans to be completely inadequate.”
    Grace shook her head. Mama was wrong to berate her for not being a son, but it was true that keeping two on what should have supported one for the past few years must have put a great strain on Mama’s inheritance.
    “I’m glad you see the error of your thinking, Grace Charlotte. Kindly cause me no more frights like that.”
    “I did not intend to frighten you.”
    “Well, you did. And it is your duty to make sure that my wishes are met in this great wreck of a place.”
    “It is not a wreck,” Grace mumbled. “And I am not in a position to order the servants about.”
    “You soon will be,” Mama declared. “Where is Mr. McWallop? I sent for him ten minutes since. Really, the tea things have not been removed, and it is already well past the dinner hour. I feel quite faint from hunger.”
    Grace did not say that she thought it possible the maid Mama had sent—with a good tongue whipping—to bring Mr. McWallop had never delivered the message.
    “Ring the bell.”
    “Very well. But—” A fresh and mighty blast of wind slammed the building and whined its way upward between towers and turrets. Grace flinched, and flinched again.
    “Oh, do get over that silliness, Grace,” Mama said, then tutted. “You think me very harsh, and perhaps I am. But I have suffered a great deal, and I’m not as well as I once was. Ring the bell and come here to me, child.”
    Grace did as she was told and allowed her mother to pull her