Read Online Jo Beverley by Forbidden Magic - Free Book Online Page B

shiver.
    â€œThree?” Owain asked, indicating the three narrow beds lined along one wall.
    â€œLeft over from my father’s time. He had two brothers. We’re great ones for tradition, we Torrances. This is the boys’ room, and this,” he said, flinging open the door to a room across the corridor, “is the girls’. Just two beds, for my two aunts. No mattresses.”
    â€œSo I would hope. And no, I don’t think we can get some before tomorrow night.”
    â€œWith money, anything is possible.”
    Owain wrote a note in his book, knowing what Sax said was true. “The Gillinghams probably have their own and could bring them.”
    â€œBuy them new.” Sax was into another room—the schoolroom, containing a long table with six chairs around it.
    Originally, Owain supposed, half a century or more ago, the seating had been for five students and a governess or tutor. There was no sign of how Sax and histeacher had fit into this room, though the fading map on the wall surely went back fifteen years, not fifty.
    He found these rooms eerie, as if generations of children had wandered away, leaving shadows. Two ancient embroidered samplers hung beside the more recent map. A wooden globe sat beneath the window with pins stuck into various spots. Six battered tin inkpots were lined up on an open shelf. A few faded volumes tilted on bookshelves.
    But it had been just two children who’d left—fifteen years ago. The three-year-old girl had died with her parents in that carriage accident, and the boy, at ten, had been taken away to be raised by his maternal grandmother, the Duchess of Daingerfield.
    For the first time, Owain truly sensed the devastation of that event. The duchess had even dismissed the nurse who’d been with Sax since birth—Nanny Bullock.
    Sax was running his fingers down the battered spines of the books. “I didn’t know these were still here. I have new and better copies downstairs.”
    Owain doubted that better was true in any sense that mattered.
    â€œI suppose we’ll have to hire a governess, or perhaps a tutor.” Sax turned to survey the room. “That’s not urgent. Do you think this will do when warm and freshened up a bit?”
    The slight hint of uncertainty was almost heartbreaking. Sax could take on an unknown wife sure that he could handle her, but children were another matter. He was carelessly fond of youngsters, but his own true childhood had been cut cruelly short.
    Owain began to worry about the new countess’s brothers and sisters as well as about her. Sax was generous, but so unpredictable. “The young ones could perhaps be given some say in the refurbishing of this area.”
    â€œGood idea.”
    With the Torrance traditions in mind, Owain asked, “Will they be allowed to do as they wish?”
    â€œWithin reason. Why not?” There was one more door off the corridor, and Sax glanced in. “Thought so. Room for the schoolroom maids. I assume my impoverishedbride isn’t bringing any. See if any of the staff want the job.”
    â€œPick the ones you want to do it.”
    â€œVolunteers are always better. And the boys would probably like a manservant. But we’ll observe the proprieties and have him sleep elsewhere.” He then retraced his steps, gently closing each door on the past.
    He ran back downstairs with his usual energy, candle flames streaming. He paused at his bedroom door. “Shame, really.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œTo be so celibate on my last night of freedom. But I suppose it’ll be good practice.”
    â€œFor marriage? Hardly.”
    â€œAh, but your doubts have infected me.” He blew out one of the three candles. “My bride will shrink away, which will shrink me.” He blew out the second. “It’s going to be a labor of Hercules to fill those seven beds with offspring of my own.” He opened his door, and Owain