Free Keeping the Castle by Patrice Kindl

One morning when we awoke we found a small stream of water trickling down the hallway in the eastern wing where Mama and I slept.
    We looked at each other and sighed. There could now be no doubt that there was a hole in the roof. I had spoken to the stone mason, and he had told me that a good slate roof such as ours could last for a long time. The damp spots I showed him might be due to a few missing slates, the repair of which would take an hour or two, no more. On the other hand, the entire framework beneath the slates might be rotten, calling for a time-consuming and, above all, expensive undertaking to replace it. In any case, we could not afford even the least costly repair.
    “Do not fret yourself, Mama,” I said. “I will see to it.”
    “But the money—”
    “I will see to it.”
    “Prudence and Charity would never—”
    I smiled, and Mama fell silent.
    We knew better than to ask Prudence and Charity to contribute any money towards the upkeep of this, their only home, though they could readily have afforded it. (I knew this for a fact, as I had taken care to read their last financial statement from London.) We had attempted to shame them into it before, with dismal results. A common saying in our part of the world is, “Eat all, drink all, and pay nowt”—in other words, we are not known for foolish generosity—and my stepsisters are true daughters of Yorkshire. Their position was that they were certain to marry some day, and it would be wrong to deny their future husbands and children even the smallest portion of the fortunes that had been left to them.
    “Perhaps we may be blessed with large families, Stepmama,” Charity explained. “Then only think how we would regret squandering money that might have made provision for younger sons, or for daughters without the means or desire to marry. No, I am sorry, but it is not to be thought of.”
    However, Mama knew that I had contrived to get money out of them before for some important repair or to augment our meager food budget. She did not always approve of the means I used, but had to admit that it was only fair that they pay some small part of their maintenance. Of course, every time I managed to squeeze a few coins out of them, we paid for it by having to listen to endless remarks about how lucky my mother was to have such open-handed, free-spending stepdaughters in her household.
    I would be glad enough to agree with such sentiments if it meant that the roof over our heads would remain whole.
    Their bedroom was on the leeward side of the castle, away from the wind and rain blowing in off the sea, which meant it was dry and secure and they were not affected by the leaky roof. It was necessary to arrange matters so that they would be affected, or they would never stir themselves in the matter.
    It took me some hours searching in the least-inhabited rooms of the castle, as well as in several outbuildings where grain and foodstuffs were stored, to find what I required. I had to lock Fido into the pantry, and I feared that his howls and scratching at the woodwork would give away my plan, but it did not; my stepsisters were making a great noise on the old pianoforte and did not hear. Gently transporting my finds on cushions or old burlap sacks, I made several trips to the bedrooms in the same wing of the building where Prudence and Charity slept, with special attention to their chamber. Once I was satisfied with the west wing, I made certain arrangements to a bedroom on the eastern side.
    Then I sat back and awaited developments.
    At nightfall we retired to our several rooms and soon darkness and silence reigned over the castle. I lay awake with my door open, listening. I did not have long to wait. Shriek upon shriek split the night. I arose, pulled on a robe and lit my candle. Fido leapt to the floor and accompanied me. My mother, much perturbed by the disturbance, cried out to me as I passed her room, “Oh Althea, what dreadful thing can have