Pendragon (Sherbrooke Brides 7)

“Do what?”

Madeleine only shrugged.

Meggie said, “Pendragon is a beautiful old castle. It deserves to be cared for. I am now mistress here. It will be beautiful once again, just like your room.”

“There is little sun. It won’t matter.”

“It seems to matter to you, at least in here. Please tell me, ma’am, what is going on here?”

Madeleine looked up for a moment, her eyes focused not on the present, but somewhere in the past, and they weren’t good memories. She said at last, “I like the two heads of the coin—one light, the other dark. It is alternately satisfying and mysterious.”

“Or perhaps you mean a Janus head?”

Madeleine merely cocked her head to one side. Her black hair with its rich white strands was very shiny today. She looked lovely. Hers was the cast from which Thomas’s face was molded, except, Meggie believed, his face more pure, the lines more stark, more finely chiseled. There was no wildness in his dark eyes, except when he was kissing her.

“No,” Madeleine said, shaking her head. “Not Janus. A Janus head has two faces—one evil, one good. But with light and darkness, there is both good and evil in both, don’t you think?”

“Things are never that simple, ma’am.”

“Naturally they are. No, I don’t wish there to be evil at Pendragon, but evil comes in all shapes and forms, doesn’t it? No, I wish to have both light and darkness and I have achieved it. Leave things alone.”

Meggie sighed and sat down on a spindle-legged chair from early in this new century, one with what looked like lion’s paws with long toenails filed to sharp points, and said slowly, “No, I will not leave things as they are. Pendragon is now my responsibility and I won’t let it continue to molder. If you do not wish to help me, I pray you will keep still. I do not wish Thomas to be at odds with his mother.”

“He would be at odds with you, not me.”

“The women,” Meggie said, looking out those crystal-clear windows onto lush gardens beyond that were badly in need of a gardener, “are working well. Men will come in to rehang the chandelier. All the draperies will be replaced as well as most of the furnishings. Pendragon will look like it did three hundred years ago right after it was rebuilt, only better. It will be done.”

“I have but to tell Mrs. Black to send them back to the village”—Madeleine snapped her fingers—“and it will be done.”

Just you try it, Meggie wanted to tell her, but instead, she said with all goodwill and exquisite calm, “Mrs. Black is very happy that Pendragon is being tidied up, those were her words. She may be almost blind, but I fancy she’s smelled the neglect, felt it with her housekeeper’s special touch. She has even given her own cleaning solutions to everyone. She’s supervising all the help with a fine eye, albeit a blind one.”

“Someone should stop you.”

Meggie said, “Someone tried last night. Are you really certain it wasn’t you, ma’am?”

“No, I was sleeping, dreaming beautiful dreams. Actually, Lord Kipper was in one of them.”

Meggie wasn’t about to touch that, at least not now. She said, “Your son wanted me to marry him. He didn’t know my dowry was so magnificent until he actually spoke to my father when he asked for my hand.”

“Men, including my son, always manage to sniff these things out. That’s exactly what he did—married you to get his hands on all that lovely money of yours. And now he has it. What are you saying, Miss—Mrs.? You now want to accuse my son of hitting you on the head in the middle of the night so he can be rid of you since he now has your dowry?”

“Oh no. There is one thing I am very sure of. Thomas is as honorable as my father, as are my uncles. I would never have married him otherwise. No, ma’am. Your son will protect me. He cares for me.” Not love, Meggie thought, he hadn’t yet said a word about love. On the other hand, she hadn’t either. She said, “I have come to realize that there is a lot going on here that I don’t understand. Perhaps after you dreamed of Lord Kipper, you moved along to dream you struck me on the head last night? You perhaps dreamed it was you who tried to stop me?”

“I don’t want you dead, you little idiot, either dreaming or awake. There weren’t any dreams after Lord Kipper. You’re a fool, Meggie Sherbrooke.”

“My name is Meggie Malcombe. Goodness, I hadn’t thought about the alliteration before. It sounds rather nice to say, doesn’t it? Just imagine, I’m now Meggie Malcombe.”

“No, it sounds ridiculous.”

“Let’s just say that you did

indeed dream that you hit me. Tell me then, why would you want to hurt me? To make me less foolish?”

“If I had hit you, I would have done it right. I have no idea who struck you. It was probably Mrs. Black. I told you she wants things left the way they are. Aye, she’s the one who wants to stop you in your tracks.”

What did that mean, she would have done it right? Madeleine would have hit her hard enough to kill her?

“Go away. This is none of your affair.”