it nailed securely. ‘Why, you can’t even loose them.’
‘Maybe the place was shut up after Great-aunt Elspeth died,’ Kit answered, obviously not too concerned.
Sydony turned round, trying to get her bearings. ‘But it’s mostly the rooms facing the rear of the house, as did the landing on the stair, that are completely covered.’
‘Maybe the winds are fierce from that direction,’ Kit said.
‘But there must be closed windows behind them,’ Sydony said. Lifting a hand in front of the shutters, she felt no draught. ‘Why nail them shut?’
‘She probably thought they rattled. You know how old ladies are,’ Kit said, over his shoulder. ‘It doesn’t look like these rooms have been used in some time, so she might well have had them shut up.’ Obviously uninterested, he was already moving on, but Sydony couldn’t rid herself of the notion that something wasn’t right.
Why would anyone nail shutters closed, and only those in certain rooms? She shook her head, turning to follow her brother, but the sensation lingered, fuelling her growing uneasiness about the turn of their fortunes.
When they had finally found suitable rooms, Sydony unpacked some clean linens and made up the beds. Kit was surprisingly helpful, although he jested about pursuing a life in service as an upstairs maid. Though her brother remained cheerful, Sydony knew he must be dismayed at the general condition of the house, which should have been prepared for their arrival by a staff set to greet them.
‘No doubt the solicitor misunderstood our arrival date,’ Sydony said to cheer him, though she wasn’t so sure.
Surrounded by a few of her own possessions, Sydony settled in to sleep with the knowledge that Kit was right in the next room. And yet, the fact that they were the only two residents made the strange house seem preter-naturally quiet, as did their location, far from any neighbours, known or unknown. Only the wind howled its welcome, keeping her awake long into the night and moving into her dreams, where unnatural Gothic settings shifted and transformed into her new home.
The silence woke her. At least that’s how it seemed. Perhaps the foul wind had finally abated. More likely, it was the lack of the usual morning bustle, servants lighting fires and fixing breakfasts, that made Sydony blink confusedly. Here in her new surroundings, all was quiet, except for a faint whistling through the window frames.
For a long moment Sydony lay there as awareness seeped through her. In days past, Rose would be opening the curtains and chiding her to get up and join her father, who would be breakfasting over a book, and everything was as familiar to her as her own reflection. But those days were gone, and as pressure formed behind her eyes at that acknowledgement, Sydony blinked and sat up.
She had Kit and a home and was grateful for both. She even had windows without shutters in this new room of hers, Sydony thought with a smile, and she saw that the morning had dawned bright and clear. The events of the night seemed dreamlike now, a product of weariness and darkness and isolation. She was determined that today would be better, and she hurried through her toilet to go downstairs, only to find Kit already at the work table in the kitchen, eating what was left in the hamper.
‘We need to find some chickens and steal their eggs,’ he said, with his mouth full of cheese, and Sydony felt her heart swell. When he pushed a steaming bowl towards her, she leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek.
‘What’s that for?’ he asked, between forkfuls.
‘Can’t a sister give her brother a nice greeting?’ Sydony asked.
‘You’re just glad that I found some tea,’ Kit said.
‘You know me too well,’ Sydony said, reaching for the bowl. She could do without some things, but not her morning tea.
‘How did you sleep?’ Kit asked, and Sydony hesitated. No doubt her brother had snoozed like the proverbial log and would take personally any complaints that she had not.
‘It is a bit peculiar, being so quiet,’ Sydony said, as tactfully as possible.
‘We’ll get a new staff soon. Then it will sound more like home. And you won’t have to cook for us,’ Kit teased.
‘I can cook quite well, thank you,’ Sydony said, making a face. And it was true. Growing up without a mother, she had often shadowed the servants at their tasks and had learned enough to make do, if necessary. The sudden loss of her mother also had made Sydony aware of how quickly circumstances could change, and she became determined to fend for herself, whether in the kitchen or on horseback or behind the barrel of a pistol.
‘Will we be able to afford enough servants to keep this up?’ Sydony asked, taking in their new home with a wave of her hand.
‘It is larger than I anticipated,’ Kit said. Rising to his feet, he walked to the window as though concentrating on the grounds, not the house. Typical male. ‘Well, we are to inherit some money, too, so I hope we can manage to run the place, as well as tidy it up a bit. We shall know more when the solicitor arrives.’
‘If he arrives,’ Sydony said.
‘I’ve got to take Henry and Clarence to catch the mail coach in Oak’s Hollow, which is where our man has his office, so I’ll stop in and make sure he’s planning on attending to business,’ Kit said.
‘And find out if he has the household goods we shipped ahead,’ Sydony said. ‘I’d hate to have Father’s books go missing.’
Kit nodded, then grabbed up the coat he had slung over a chair and shrugged into it. ‘Maybe you had better come along. I don’t like leaving you here all alone.’
‘Rubbish,’ Sydony said. The answer was automatic, a response she had made countless times before to her brother, and yet she realized that the circumstances were different now. She was alone in a strange, empty house, with nothing but bleak moorland surrounding her.
‘Fine, then,’ Kit said, without glancing her way. ‘I doubt that you’ll have any trouble, but Grandfather’s duelling pistols are up in the room I slept in.’
The offhand comment was not comforting, and Sydony opened her mouth to tell him that she might join him, after all. But he was already slamming the door behind him, leaving her to the dusty stillness. The companionable moment they had shared in their kitchen seemed all too brief, and even the room itself fell into shadow, as if a cloud had passed over the sun.
She could still reach Kit before he left, Sydony knew, and he would not mock her for joining him. However, a lifetime of keeping up with her brother and demanding her own independence made her loathe to give in to feminine fears, even if it meant defiantly staying in a house with enough peculiarities to make a Gothic heroine swoon.
Although Sydony wasn’t the swooning type, she wondered whether she ought not try to catch up with her brother. Pushing back her chair, she slipped on her cloak and stepped outside, intending to call after Kit. She saw him striding toward the stables, but paused at her first real glimpse of her new surroundings.
Instead of neatly clipped lawns and tilled rolling hills, Sydony saw tall grass sadly in need of a trimming and barren moors rising into the distance. With a shudder, she turned round, in search of some pleasant aspect. There had to be a garden somewhere, she told herself, as she stepped along a weedy gravel path that led towards the rear of the house.
She had only taken a few steps when she saw something, a huge mass of dark green that made her pause. ‘What is that?’ she called at Kit, pointing.
‘It’s a maze,’ Kit shouted, with a smile and a wave.
He continued on his way, and Sydony did not stop him. She was too busy looking ahead towards the maze. She’d heard of such things, of course, and had even seen a small one at the pleasure gardens near her old home, but the thought of owning one sent a quiver of delight up her spine. She hurried on until the path ended, then hesitated only briefly before lifting her hem and trudging into the damp grass.