They drove another ten minutes through a hilly woodland park, then along a sweeping gravel drive, before coming to a halt at the front entrance of the castle. The main wing was recessed around a paved courtyard, Tess saw, and flanked by two octagonal towers. The lichen growing on the granite walls gave the gray stone a slightly rose hue. Clearly older than Bellacourt by a century or two, Falwell Castle was not as splendid or impressive, but still striking.
Miles, one of her two strapping footmen, handed the ladies down, while Fletcher—the former pugilist—ran up to the ornate front door to seek admittance. Both servants had shadowed Tess during the journey. And since Rotham knew her coachman and footmen by name, she suspected he’d charged them with closely protecting her. When asked directly, Spruggs had confirmed her suspicions, saying that the duke had ordered them to take special care of her and her friend, Miss Irwin. Once more, Tess didn’t know whether to be piqued or touched by Rotham’s continued interference on her behalf.
She and Fanny stood for a moment, drinking in the magnificent vista. The sparkling blue-gray expanse of ocean seemed to stretch to the ends of the earth. A soft breeze blew from the sea, amazingly warm for early November.
Tess reluctantly turned away when her attention was claimed by the castle’s massive front door opening. Evidently Rotham’s introductory letter had already arrived, for an elderly couple emerged, bowing and beaming.
&nb
sp; They made themselves known as the Hiddlestons, steward and housekeeper for the castle. Both husband and wife were plump and ruddy-cheeked with a lively, informal air that was quite different from the dignified formality shown by the head retainers at Bellacourt.
Mrs. Hiddleston, apparently, was also far more outspoken. She seemed excited to have a new mistress and claimed to have been preparing for the new duchess’s arrival since yesterday.
“Oh, your grace, do forgive us for not greeting you the very instant you arrived,” the woman gushed. “We were polishing the silver to make ready for you. We had such short notice, you know, but we wish to make you welcome. We never expected his grace to wed, to be truthful—” After a warning glance from Hiddleston, his missus clapped a hand over her mouth. “Not that we mind his marrying, certainly, and not that it is our place to judge his affairs.… Listen to me running on so. You must be weary after your long journey and in need of rest and refreshment. If you will come this way, your grace.…”
Tess liked the Hiddlestons at once, she decided as she and Fanny followed them inside and handed over their bonnets and pelisses.
“I fear we have only a small staff serving here,” the housekeeper chatted on. “The new duke never visits this big pile—well, almost never.… Oh, that was not a criticism, my lady, no indeed. I am sure the duke is exceedingly busy. I only meant there is little need for a multitude of servants with no lord or lady in residence. But yesterday I hired some girls and lads from the village to help out during your visit.”
Over the course of the next two hours, Tess and Fanny were served a hearty tea and then given a lengthy tour of the castle. Falwell was originally built in the 1500s, they were told, but refurbished extensively in the middle of the last century by the current duke’s great-grandfather, who added the battlements and the two flanking towers.
The castle supposedly had over twenty bedchambers, as well as a great hall and portrait gallery, with many of the main rooms decorated with tapestries and paintings and even armor and weapons. The towers had several small chambers each, and were four stories high.
“I understand you also have a large dungeon,” Tess prodded for Fanny’s sake when Mrs. Hiddleston ran out of praise for the living quarters. “We would like to inspect it, if you would be so kind.”
The housekeeper first looked surprised, then made a face. “Well, to be truthful, it is more a monstrous wine cellar, my lady. But of course Hiddleston will gladly show it to you, although you may be offended by so much accumulated dirt. We do not go down there much, except on rare occasions. Are you certain you wish to see it?”
“Quite certain. Miss Irwin is a novelist,” Tess explained, “and so has a particular interest in such things as dungeons. She also has an avid interest in ghosts. Is it true that Falwell is haunted? We would enjoy hearing anything you can tell us.”
Both upper servants frowned, before the housekeeper smiled weakly. “Aye, we have a ghost that is said to be the duke who built the towers during the renovations. By all accounts, his grace came to an untimely end when he fell from the west tower, although some say he was pushed.”
“So the Falwell ghost may be the spirit of the current duke’s murdered ancestor?” Fanny interjected.
Mrs. Hiddleston looked to her husband, who had not been given much chance to get in a word edgewise, and then fell oddly silent.
“We have heard some disturbing noises,” Hiddleston answered for her, “since the beginning of summer, but it is only now and then.”
“What sort of noises?” Tess asked.
“Oh, a few bumps and bangs and whatnot—something like the rattle and clank of chains. But it is likely the wind. And in any event, the castle has been silent for the past fortnight at least.”
His wife clearly looked uncomfortable, perhaps even afraid, but she held her tongue.
Deciding not to push, Tess said they would save a tour of the dungeon for the morrow. For now, she thought she should comply with Rotham’s demand that she let him know they had arrived safely.
Thus, she penned a letter to his town house in London and had Hiddleston post her missive in the village of Fowey.
That evening, she and Fanny dined in a cozy parlor rather than the enormous dining room. And when they retired for bed, Tess chose a bedchamber just down the corridor from her friend, saying she wanted to be close to her guest as an excuse to avoid sleeping in the lord’s chambers.
The first two nights, there was no sign or sound of any ghost. During the days Tess and Fanny settled in the library, which had an inspiring view of the sea cove below the castle. While Fanny wrote on her manuscript, Tess saw to her extensive correspondence; she had brought her large case of files pertaining to her charities. Although she had no official role in any of the organizations except that of chief advocate, she wouldn’t shirk her responsibilities simply because she was two hundred miles away.
Nor would she abandon her work merely because she had married into the aristocracy. She’d seen too much poverty and hopelessness to turn a blind eye now. There were still countless families in need, many to the point of desperation. Women and children and elderly parents especially, who were barely surviving after their men were killed or maimed in nearly two decades of war.
Tess also made an effort to learn about her nearest neighbors, particularly those who would expect a formal call from the new duchess. There were several nobles in the district, plus a dozen families who could be considered gentry, but since she was of higher rank now, she would have to initiate any visits.
Her first meeting would be with the local vicar, Tess decided. And she would have Alice accompany her instead of Fanny. For years Tess had futilely battled society’s strictures regarding ladylike conduct, but she had to agree with Fanny’s assessment—that flaunting their friendship could be detrimental to the very causes she was urgently trying to promote. Her neighbors, including perhaps even a man of the church, would likely be appalled to know she was associating with a lightskirt, even a reformed one.
Tess hoped her friend’s prospects for acceptance would improve shortly. If Fanny could marry Basil, she would automatically gain a measure of respectability. Marriage covered up a multitude of sins with the ton, and associating with the Duchess of Rotham would increase her gentility even more.