Secret Fear (eBook)

Barbara Cartland (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025
351 Seiten
Barbara Cartland eBooks Ltd (Verlag)
978-1-78867-845-2 (ISBN)

Infos

When the Marquis of Meridale returns to his castle after many years away, numerous surprises await him. This castle has fallen into rack and ruin and there is an atmosphere of fear surrounding it and everyone in it.

Another surprise was Arabella, a wispy, outspoken girl who had been sent to Meridale Castle to be a companion to Lady Beulah. But Arabella was as baffling as well as beautiful.  Why did she shrink from his touch? Why did she never speak of her past? And what was the dark secret that explained the aura of dread in his once-happy home?

As the answers start to unravel, Arabella finds herself locked in a web of deceit and intrigue. And as they are plunged into terrifying danger, does the Marquis have the key to win her love, and free her from her secret fear?

Textauszug

Two

Arabella lay sleepless in a small four-poster bed with a frilled canopy. She was tired, but her brain kept turning over and over the events of the day, and after a time she gave up the pretence of trying to sleep. She had been exhausted by the time Miss Harrison had sent for a housemaid to put Beulah to bed, but now she felt wide awake.

“You had best run along too, little girl,” Miss Harrison had said, but Arabella had known it was not because the Governess thought of her as a child that she was so solicitous, but because she was planning to entertain the Head Housemaid – Miss Fellows. An unopened bottle of brandy had been taken from the cupboard and was set ready with two cut-crystal glasses on a table together with a pack of playing cards.

Arabella had not been in the castle for more than a few hours before she realised that Miss Harrison had taken upon herself the role of Mistress. The servants hurried to obey her commands, and Arabella noticed that a number of very elegant pieces of furniture had found their way to the schoolroom.

After luncheon at midday, Beulah was put to rest in her small bedroom, which led off the schoolroom, on the opposite side to a large room occupied by Miss Harrison. Beulah slept by herself, except for her kittens, which had a basket at the foot of the bed.

“She won’t be separated from them,” Miss Harrison explained lazily, when Beulah cried for her pets and Arabella asked if she was to collect them. It was obvious that Miss Harrison was prepared to take the line of least resistance where her charge was concerned. Anything was allowed so long as it did not interfere with her own comfort.

It was not difficult for Arabella to understand Doctor Simpson’s anxiety that Beulah should have someone to play with, and if possible to instruct her. Miss Harrison did neither. She never spoke to the child except to tell her to come to the table or go to bed, and she seemed completely indifferent as to what Beulah did with her time or whether anyone or anything contributed to her happiness.

Miss Fellows was a thin, spiteful-looking woman, who seemed to have nothing better to do than to sit in an armchair as close to Miss Harrison as she could, so that they could gossip with each other hour after hour. They spent most of the morning in that position and after lunch was finished – an enormous, well-cooked meal, served by two footmen – Miss Harrison settled herself comfortably on a day-bed with a number of cushions behind her head and a fur rug over her feet. In addition to the large amount of wine she had imbibed at lunch, one of the footmen set a decanter of brandy on the small table beside her.

Knowing that Miss Harrison was not interested in her movements Arabella slipped away, but instead of going to her own chamber, she went down the stairs towards the main rooms of the castle. The Grand Staircase with its carved banisters was impressive and the walls were hung with gilt-framed family portraits. It was difficult for her to see the glories of the salon because the furniture was disguised with Holland covers and the wooden shutters were closed and bolted over the long windows. But the room smelt musty and damp, and Arabella felt depressed as she closed the door behind her.

An adjacent room seemed less interesting and Arabella passed on until she opened two large double doors.

Then she stood still and gasped. She had found the library!

There were shelves of books from floor to ceiling. Books bound in leather, which made the wall a kaleidoscope of colour even in the dim light. Arabella ran to the windows, drew back the closed curtains, and flung wide the latticed casements to let in the air and sunshine.

Books! Books! More books than she had ever seen and more than she could hope to read in a lifetime. Books! And she was certain there would be nobody in the castle to say, “Reading is not for women!”, as her stepfather had said so often, invariably adding, “No man wants a damned brainbox for a wife”.

There was the smell of very old leather in the library and there was dust everywhere. The books on the shelves were thick with it. As Arabella touched them with her fingers, she promised that she would clean and care for them, restoring them to the proud beauty they had once known.

The high ceiling was painted with mythical figures of gods and goddesses, and over the mantelshelf there was a huge mirror with a carved and gilded wood frame, in which the books were reflected. Arabella gave a little sigh of utter happiness. Here she could go on educating herself. Here she could continue to read the classics. She had been instructed in Greek and Latin by the Vicar of their little village. He was an erudite man with a deep love of knowledge, and he taught well. Her father had insisted that, as he had no son, she should have a boy’s education.

“Why should women always be treated as fools?” he had asked.

“I am no scholar,” her mother answered. “Do you consider me a fool?”

He laughed at that and putting his fingers under her chin, turned her face up to his.

“It’s only when they are as beautiful as you, my love, that they have no need of brains,” he said softly. “Arabella will never rival you, so let us give her something else to rely on besides a pretty face.”

Her mother had accepted her husband’s decision as she accepted everything he wanted. But when she had married again, Sir Lawrence had quickly put a stop to what he called “those damn-fool lessons”.

“Teach the chit sewing,” he said harshly. “It’s comfort her husband will want – if she ever gets one – not arguments.”

The old Vicar had been dismayed.

“If only you were a boy, you would have won many honours at a university,”

“If only I were a boy!” Arabella repeated. “Don’t you know how much I loathe being female? I hate to be ordered about, controlled, commanded, and forced to obey another’s wishes.”

“My child, you must accept God’s will in these matters,” the Vicar said quietly, but his eyes were sad, and she knew he understood how much she suffered.

And now unexpectedly, and when she least had thought it possible, the door of knowledge was opened to her once more. Books! She threw her arms wide as if she must embrace all of them. Her eyes were shining as she took one book after another from the shelves, until finally she chose three to take back to her room.

Suddenly she realised that she had been a long time in the library. Quickly she turned to the window, closed the casements and drew the curtains again. Then she walked back towards the Great Hall. She had just reached the foot of the Grand Staircase when a young housemaid, her cheeks pink and her white mobcap askew, came hurrying along the corridor.

“Ah, there you are, Miss Arabella!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “I’ve been a’running round a’looking for you everywhere. I thought you must have hid yourself.”

“I was looking round the castle,” Arabella explained. “Does Miss Harrison want me?”

“No, not her,” the housemaid replied. “She be asleep until she rings for her tea. Has it like a lady she does. No, ’tis Miss Matherson who wants to see you.”

“Miss Matherson?” Arabella queried. “Who is she?”

“Come this way, Miss,” the housemaid said, leading the way up the stairs. “She’ll be a’wondering why I’ve been so long a’finding you.”

“Who is Miss Matherson?” Arabella repeated. “And has she a position here?”

The young housemaid looked up the stairs nervously as if she thought someone might be listening. Then lowering her voice she replied,

“’Tis a bit difficult to explain to you, Miss. Miss Matherson used to be personal lady’s maid to the late Marchioness, His Lordship’s mother, afore she died, and for a short time after Her Ladyship’s death she ran the castle. Then there be trouble.”

“What sort of trouble?” Arabella asked curiously.

The housemaid looked embarrassed.

“’Tis not for I to say, Miss, and not to a child, like yourself, but I knows there were trouble.”

“It is difficult for me,” Arabella said gently, “to come to the castle not knowing who anyone is, or what authority they have. I am sure you can understand.”

The young housemaid – she could not have been more than sixteen, younger in reality than Arabella – gave her an impish grin.

“I knows how you feels,” she said confidentially. “It seemed very strange here when I first comes to the castle nigh on five years past. Miss Harrison now, she be the head of the castle, in His Lordship’s absence. Her gives the orders and Miss Fellows carries them out. They hates Miss Matherson and they have done everything to be rid of her. But she wouldn’t budge, not her! And no one can dismiss her save His Lordship and as he never comes home, her stays.”

“So what happens?” Arabella asked.

“Miss Matherson has withdrawn,” the girl replied almost triumphantly, as if it had been a tactical victory. “She has her own rooms and her doesn’t speak with Miss Harrison or Miss Fellows. We waits on her and she makes us keep things up to scratch. We daren’t disobey her, however much Miss Fellows says we should.”

“It all sounds very uncomfortable,” Arabella commented.

“It be funny at times,” the young housemaid replied with a giggle. “’Tis my belief there be something queer a’going on, but it don’t do to ask questions. I gets a fair wage, and plenty to eat. Not much to complain about, and there be half-dozen girls in the village willing to come here if I should leave. The work ain’t hard.”

“I can see that,”...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 1.5.2025
• Reihe/Serie: The Eternal Collection
• Reihe/Serie: The Eternal Collection
• Verlagsort: Hatfield
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Historische Romane
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• Schlagworte: Emily Bronte style romance • Jane Austen style romance • regency romance filled with secrets
• ISBN-10: 1-78867-845-1 / 1788678451
• ISBN-13: 978-1-78867-845-2 / 9781788678452