Free Trondelaine Castle by April Lynn Kihlstrom

marriage. Well,
at least Sylvia was herself innocent of such plots.
Though he had no doubt that she would marry him if
he asked her. He was in sufficiently good spirits that an
air of virtuous satisfaction swept over him and he
determined to continue working even though it was
afternoon and he usually went riding at this time. Nor
did he begrudge a pleasant smile to Wendy as she sat at
her desk. Although, confound it, she needn’t have
looked so surprised!
    But she was surprised. Though hopefully it meant he
would be human again. She wondered what Lord
Richard’s servants thought of these abrupt shifts of
mood. Well, no doubt they were accustomed to him. Feeling somewhat more relaxed now, Wendy found
herself working more quickly and efficiently. Which
also improved her mood.

    That evening, Wendy wore the Indian print
plum-colored dress, with her hair loose and curling
over her shoulders. Lord Richard started when he saw
her.
    “Forgive me,” he apologized smoothly, “it is simply
that you present quite a different picture in that dress
than my mother did. I should never have suggested it as
an evening dress, but I am quite happy Mrs. Peters did
so. It suits you very well.”
    “Th-thank you,” she stammered.
    Following the usual ritual, she sat while Lord
Richard brought her a glass of sherry. He was amiable
enough until, a short while later, the soup was being
served. “If it weren’t for your presence here,” he said, “I
should be at the theater this evening.”
    Spoon halted in midair, Wendy gazed at him with
dismay. “Oh, I am sorry, Lord Richard.”
    “Well, you shouldn’t be!” he retorted with an
irritation undiminished by the knowledge he was being
unreasonably rude. “But it is only one more change you
have caused in my habits.”
    Eating to cover her embarrassment, Wendy was
silent. She had no idea what she ought to do or say. The
silence only irritated Lord Richard further. “Never
mind,” he said, “I want to talk to you about tomorrow.
We will be dining very early and I’ll have a tray sent to
your room so you needn’t dress for it. Then I must
request that you remain in your room so that you do
not distract the tourists. They’re on a strict schedule.
Charles will have one of the servants collect your baggage from the driver and deliver it to your room. Is
that quite clear?”

    “Yes, sir.”
    “Good. You will also avoid annoying the servants
with special requests tomorrow as they will be
unusually busy in preparation for the tour group.”
    Wendy sat frozen, trying to control her temper. In
the end, she succeeded and merely nodded coolly to
Lord Richard. She reminded herself that boorishness
on his part was no excuse for similar behavior on hers.
Charles, standing at the sideboard, missed none of the
exchange. He did feel the master was being rather
unreasonable to the young lady who was really bearing
up rather well… considering. It was a pity gossip was
beneath the dignity of the head servant. He would have
so enjoyed discussing this with Mrs. Peters.
    Lord Richard’s angry voice broke across his
thoughts. “Charles! More wine!”

It was Friday evening and Wendy had just finished
dinner. A rather distracted Gwen came to collect the
tray. “They’ll be here soon, Miss Pratt,” the maid said.
“The master said to remind you to keep to your room.”
    Wendy smiled in amusement. “I will. Though if he
were really worried, he should have told you to take my
crutches!”
    Gwen smiled in return. “He’s always a little nervous
when the tourists come. Afraid they’ll break something, he is.”
    She left hurriedly, knowing she must be back in the
kitchen before the tourists arrived. Wendy leaned back
in her chair, holding an open novel, missing the music
that they usually listened to in the evening. Without any trouble, she could picture Lord Richard standing
on the terrace outside the great hall, waiting.

    He would be