hill where the imposing Wycliffe Castle was located.
While Oliver tried to keep up with Lord Henley’s swift pace , he had to force himself not to crane his neck and look around wide-eyed and with a gaping mouth at the spectacular interior of the castle.
Some parts of Wycliffe Castle were more than 500 years old , and only God knew how old the foundation was. It looked like almost nothing had changed at all during the last hundred years or so , and Oliver was pleased to notice that so far he had not seen a trace of the horrible modernization frenzy that swept through England and seemed to be the ugly hallmark of the 19th century. In fact, the castle seemed to be frozen in a different time with its dark furniture and heavy woven tapestry wall hangings that – although they definit e ly had seen better days and were badly in need of both gentle and lovin g renovation, not to mention dusting – were still breathtakingly remarkable.
This is going to be a fantastic summer, Oliver mused as he walked along the faintly lit corridors, the uneasiness of the interview already fading away. And I have not even seen the old library yet! Oliver silently added to himself.
Because it was neither the architectural wonders nor the splendid interior of Wycliffe Castle that had drawn young Mr Oliver Sanders away from his history studies at the University of Oxford – it was the famous book collection at Wycliffe Castle library that had lured Oliver away to these remote parts of Hampshire.
That, in combination with Oliver suddenly finding himself in a rather tight financial situation, had finally persuad ed him to apply for a simple teaching position over the summer – a job that was truly well beneath his station as a scholar, in Oliver’s opinion.
However, when it had become clear to Oliver that he would not receive a renewal of his scholarship from The Queen’s College to finish his long-overdue thesis in History of the Middle Ages, he realized he was faced with a delicate problem.
Oliver came from an average middleclass family , and he did not want to borrow money from his parents –or worse , admit that he had failed to get the scholarship! – and therefore , applying for the job as a private teacher during the summer at Wycliffe Castle had suddenly seemed like a good solution, even though he generally loathed tutoring. In fact, Oliver used to look down on u niversity scholars who sold themselves and their hard-earned knowledge in an attempt to teach less intelligent noble - born sons.
Ah, well. Moral and high standards were undoubtedly only entitled to those who could afford them , Oliver had finally reasoned when he had heard about the opportunity to become a tutor at Wycliffe Castle to one of Lord Henley’s sons. Oliver needed the money to cover the next university fee, but more importantly , he was most eager to see the famous Wycliffe Castle old library, which normally was closed to anyone except the members of the Henley family. In the end , Oliver had found it rather impossible to decline the rare opportunity of getting access to the unique Wycliffe book collection, even if it did include swallowing his pride and submi tting to teaching a most likely daft and spoiled upper-class boy.
Lord Henley had been rather vague regarding why his son had left Eton, a prestigious boarding school for boys just outside Winsor ; however , Oliver had assumed that it was because his son had been unable to keep up with his studies or due to problems with his health. Perhaps the boy was not so sharp as his fellow classmates , or perhaps he had poor nerves, Oliver had reasoned . H e had kept his thoughts to himself , of course.
Eton College had a reputation of not only being snobbish and ridiculously expensive, but also for being rather unforgiving regarding the high studying pressure. Weak students were unmercifully weeded out, or so Oliver had heard.
They stopped in front of a pair of double doors in dark oak , and Lord Henley opened