Deborah Simmons - The Dark Viscount

‘Kit!’ Sydony sputtered in shock, while her brother laughed at her outrage. But Barto didn’t join in the play. Apparently, he was too dignified to engage in such silliness, because he looked annoyed, if not affronted, by their amusement. But he said nothing further on the history of the house, and Sydony was glad when the conversation veered in another direction.

She couldn’t help wondering just what Barto had discovered, but even if there were some sort of story to the house, what could they do about it? They could not sell, except at a great loss, so they must live here and make the best of it.

And they did have the maze, Sydony thought as she remembered the mysterious labyrinth that Aunt Elspeth had so disliked. Suddenly, Sydony wondered if the hired man’s aversion to exterior jobs had any relation to the overgrown hedges behind the house. At the thought, she drew in a sharp breath, and was glad to see that her brother was too deep in conversation with Barto to notice. Of course, if she suggested such a thing, Kit would say her imagination was running wild, a result of reading too many Gothic novels. But didn’t they always have a dark, mysterious villain?

Sydony glanced surreptitiously at Barto. Handsome, cool and stiffly polite, he was too elegant and collected to qualify. No doubt, he would be at ease even in the finest circles, which made her wonder what was he doing in their dining hall. Why did he insist on staying? And why would a nobleman concern himself with another’s servants at all, let alone question them about the house he was visiting?

Sydony frowned, unable to piece together the puzzle that was Viscount Hawthorne, but she had the feeling, just as she’d had with the solicitor, that there was something their old friend wasn’t saying.

Although it was late by the time Sydony heard Kit come to bed, she drew him into her room for a private conversation, their first real chance to talk since he had left the house this morning. Pulling him over to a seat by the windows, she listened as he spoke enthusiastically about his plans for the property and Barto’s suggestions. But at the mention of the new viscount, Sydony studied her brother closely.

‘Don’t you think it odd that he arrived here immediately after we did when he hasn’t approached us for years?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Kit said. Leaning back in the upholstered chair, he crossed his arms behind his head and stretched out his long legs. ‘He’s been busy. And you heard him—his mother had only just informed him of our move.’

‘But common courtesy requires that a visitor, especially an uninvited one, wait until their hosts are settled into the new residence.’

Kit grinned. ‘I’m afraid that men don’t think along those lines. And since when are you a stickler for etiquette?’

‘I’m not,’ Sydony said. ‘But Viscount Hawthorne should be, given his vaunted position in society.’

‘He’s human, Syd, just like he’s always been,’ Kit countered.

‘And how would we know what he is now or has been over these past years? We saw little enough of him once he went off to Eton, to be among his own.’

Kit snorted. ‘He had no choice, Syd. He wasn’t blessed with a father who held the public school system in contempt, like we were. I was lucky to be tutored at home, rather than be tormented by older boys and sadistic men with little or no interest in teaching.’

Sydony glanced at him sharply. ‘What? Is that what Barto endured? Did he tell you so?’

Kit shrugged, obviously unwilling to share a confidence. ‘It’s what everyone endures and why Father took our studies upon himself.’

‘Beyond his own love of scholarship,’ Sydony noted, with a smile. She was grateful for their father’s habits, which had given her the opportunity to learn more than most females.

‘I suppose that you saw him more often than I did,’ Sydony mused.

‘Who? Barto?’ Kit asked.

Sydony nodded, but Kit only shrugged again. She knew that they had sought each other’s company often enough when younger, devising ways to exclude her. And they probably had continued the practice long after she stopped chasing after them.

‘When I did chance upon him, he seemed so much older. Harder,’ Sydony mused.

‘He was always more mature,’ Kit said. ‘From birth he had the responsibility of nobility hanging over his head. That vast estate and the people it supports were always destined to be his, and it weighed upon him.’

Sydony looked up in surprise once more, but Kit appeared uncomfortable. ‘I hardly saw him in the later years, either,’ he added.

Sydony frowned. ‘Yes, I imagine he had other pursuits.’ They had heard of wild times in London and his mother’s concern for his future. But now she wondered just how much of it was true.

Again, Kit snorted. ‘Well, they seem to have done him no harm.’

Sydony refused to admit that Barto bore no ill effects from any sordid adventures. ‘No, they appear only have made him more arrogant.’

‘Lud, Syd, what have you got against the fellow? He’s always had his duty hanging over him, and he never seemed pleased about the prospect.’

‘He looks eager enough now to play the lord.’

Kit threw up his hands in exasperation and stood.

‘I just think his sudden desire to visit is odd, that’s all,’ Sydony said.

‘You think everything is odd,’ her brother called over his shoulder.

‘If I do, it’s because…every thing here is,’ Sydony whispered, though Kit was already closing the door.

She nearly called him back, but the knowledge that he was weary after their long day kept her silent. With his exit, the night drew in around her, and Sydony felt a sudden pang of loneliness. She tried to dismiss it as she prepared for bed, for, were she at her former home, she would still be by herself. No one would be joining her here in the darkness.

Yet her father had always been available, like as not nodding over a book in his study at all hours. The servants were well liked and of long standing, though she would not have disturbed their rest. And there were her friends and neighbours, who sometimes shared extended visits. Of course, Molly was married now, as was Eliza, but Sydony had remained close to them until the move. Theirs was a small set, not polished or grand in the manner of Viscount Hawthorne’s London circle.

Thoughts of her unwanted guest made Sydony feel even more bereft, for she found herself missing the boy she had once known, replaced now by a stiff and arrogant nobleman. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she remembered his earlier taunt about Sherwood Forest.

Not only was she far from her home and all that was familiar, but this stranger was ruining treasured memories of her childhood. Crawling into bed, Sydony turned on her side and finally let herself weep for all that was lost.

During the long hours until morning Sydony tossed and turned through distressing dreams in which huge hedges walled her in and Barto stood by, doing nothing to help her. She woke up gasping for breath, having buried herself under the covers, but she swung out of bed, determined to avoid another night of such torment.

Today she would satisfy her curiosity about the maze, once and for all. The mysterious greenery couldn’t haunt her sleep if she faced it in the daylight. She had the ring of keys from the solicitor, as well as a workman to remove the shutters that barred her view. Either way, she was going to see the source of her curiosity, and, by doing so, put it to rest.

Sydony’s heart picked up its pace as she headed down to the dining hall, eager to tackle the secret of the labyrinth. Hurrying into the room, Sydony startled Kit by demanding the keys without preamble. Caught with a mouthful of breakfast, he pointed soundlessly toward the library, where she found her brother had piled the papers that Mr Sparrowhawk had given him.