Page 199 of The Black Trilogy

“Lovely. Will that include the crypt?”

No answer.

The mansion was a maze, the layout illogical and full of unexpected dead ends. And did I mention gloomy?

“Do you have a map?”

“You’ll soon find your way around.”

Really? Even at the end of six months, I could still see myself bumbling about like a blind hamster, desperately hunting for a way out.

Black led me upstairs, where he gave me the choice of sixteen bedrooms, each one expensively decorated and all but two with en-suite bathrooms. They may have been luxurious, but I didn’t need a chandelier or seventeen throw pillows. I chose the plainest, a corner room on the second floor, third if we were speaking American, which looked out on a perfectly manicured kitchen garden and the lawns and woods beyond it. Little did I know I’d look out of that window every night for weeks dreaming of escape.

The bed was a king size, a far cry from my single at home, and I even had a small dressing room. While Black went to make a phone call, I unpacked my suitcase then stood back.

“Isn’t having an entire room for my clothes overkill?” I murmured to myself.

“Don’t worry, you’ll soon fill it.” I turned to find Black had reappeared behind me.

“I don’t like spending money just for the sake of it.”

“You’ll be spending my money, so don’t worry about it. We’ll go into town later. I’ll show you around, and we can stock up on the things you’ll need.”

“Well, if you insist. I’m not going to turn down free stuff.”

“Let’s get brunch first.”

Brunch? Another reminder the flight had landed on a different planet altogether.

As Black led me back through the labyrinth, I boiled it down to the basics. All I really needed to know was where my room was, where the kitchen was, and how to get in and out. Oh yeah, and how to find the gym, because according to Black, I’d be spending a lot of time in there.

When we got to the kitchen, I found Riverley Hall had its own version of Ruth too. She was equally plump and cheerful, but called Mrs. Fairfax.

“Omelette and salad?” she asked.

Black nodded while I grimaced.

“I stick to a healthy diet most of the time,” he said.

“Is that why we have that?” I pointed at a bowl of fruit salad. “I was hoping for chocolate cake.”

“Yes. You’ll have to cut back on your junk food intake from now on.”

That was my first indication of what was to come. It turned out a lack of cake was the least of my worries.

As promised, in the afternoon we headed into Richmond. I picked out some more workout clothes, a few pairs of jeans, and a jumper or two and tried not to feel guilty as Black footed the bill. Strange, because I’d rarely felt remorse when I purloined things back in London, but somehow it was easier to take stuff from strangers.

“You need a couple of nice dresses as well,” Black said. “You may need to accompany me to dinner at some point.”

“I’m not really into dresses.”

He gave me a wry smile. “I’d noticed that, but you have to learn to pretend to be.”

In the upmarket boutique he took me to, the sales girls swarmed around him like demented flies and looked down their snooty noses at me.

“Shop here often, do you? I didn’t imagine you as a sequins-and-tiaras kind of guy.”

“What man doesn’t look good in a cocktail dress?” he answered, deadpan.

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