Page 50 of Winterset
“I would not say they areruined.”I smiled at a particularly good rendering of a rose. “Onlyaltered. Here.” I handed him the book. “See for yourself. The sketches are quite impressive.”
Charlie flipped through the pages and frowned. I understood why too; books like these in my library were expensive. A treasure that only a privileged few could afford to own. And Charlie loved the written word.
“Impressive indeed, but books are not meant to be drawn in but read. And these, I’m sorry to say, are quite unreadable.”
“I can still read the words despite the sketches atop them,” I insisted, and he raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t take effort, but itispossible.” Even if it were not, though, I could not bring myself to be bothered by these sketches. They were a window into a lady’s soul whom I would never know.
“First, your hats, and now, your books.” Charlie shook his head. “You are taking this surprisingly well, Granger.”
“I should tell you something, Charlie,” I confessed. “I fear you will think me mad.”
Charlie looked up at me, listening.
“Last night,” I began slowly, “I saw a ghost. Miss Lockwood’s ghost.”
Charlie raised a disbelieving eyebrow. I couldn’t blame him; I scarcely believed it myself.
“I know how it sounds. Ghosts don’t exist, and yet Isawher, Charlie. She was floating right here in this very library.” I pointed at the bookshelves near where the ladder was placed.
“Perhaps you only dreamed about her?” Charlie said.
“Perhaps,” I said. “But I don’t think so.”
Charlie’s brow furrowed. “In that case, I worry what else of yours will be ruined before this day is done.”
“Well,” I said, stepping down the ladder and checking my pocket watch, “my reputation if I miss church.”
Charlie handed me the top hat he’d found with an apologetic expression.
Nothing was wrong with it, per se. It was in good condition and notveryout of style, but it was brown,and my clothing was black.
“People will think I employ a blind man to serve as my valet.” I laughed lightly.
“Well, it is either this or one of my caps,” Charlie said with a shrug.
“This will have to do, then.” I plopped the topper on my head, and we walked to the door.
We entered the churchyard only a few minutes before the service was to begin. Thankfully, Lord Markham was still standing in the courtyard. I stopped to greet him, and Charlie continued inside to join the other servants in attendance.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” Lord Markham said.
“Yes, well, I ran into some trouble this morning with my wardrobe. It’s quite a long and altogether boring story.”
“I doubt that entirely.” He eyed my hat with a smirk.
As soon as we walked inside, I removed my hat, careful to make sure my hair fell at the right angle to conceal my wound, and held it low at my side as we entered the chapel.
It was a small but adequately sized chapel with twenty pews on either side of a broad aisle, each filled with parishioners.
All their eyes were on me.
As the second son of an earl, I was accustomed to being noticed, if not seen; usually, when people looked at me, though, they were really only lookingaroundmefor a glimpse of Father or Damon. Today, however, they were lookingatme; matchmaking mothers and their doe-eyed daughters took my measure as if to determine my worth.
Perhaps Iwouldhave my choice of young ladies to court here.
I could only hope they’d not seen the sorry state I’d let Winterset fall into.
We continued down the aisle to Lord Markham’s pew in the front row. Once we were seated, the vicar took his place at the podium.
