The Secret Woman Read Online Free Page B

and that Aunt Charlotte had no notion of how I was feeling as we drove under the stone gatehouse and looked up at the conical turrets.
    â€œFake!” snapped Aunt Charlotte. It was the biggest insult she could offer.
    I wanted to laugh when I entered that house. The inside of Castle Crediton should have been the inside of the Queen’s House. The Creditons had made a great effort to produce a Tudor interior and had succeeded. There was the big hall with long refectory table on which stood a large pewter bowl. There were firearms on the walls and the inevitable suit of armor at the foot of the staircase. Aunt Charlotte saw only the furniture.
    â€œI supplied the table,” she said. “It came from a castle in Kent.”
    â€œIt looks very well here,” I commented.
    Aunt Charlotte did not answer. The manservant returned to say that Lady Crediton would receive Miss Brett. He looked at me questioningly and Aunt Charlotte said quickly: “You may wait here for a while!” in such a manner as to defy the servant to object.
    So I waited in the hall and I looked at the thick stone walls partially covered with tapestries—lovely French Gobelin type in beautiful blues and stone color. I went up and examined one. It depicted the labors of Hercules. I was studying it intently when a voice behind me said: “Like it?”
    I turned and saw that a man was standing close to me. I was startled. He looked so tall and I wasn’t quite sure what he was thinking of me. The color heightened in my cheeks but I said coolly, “It’s beautiful. Is it really Gobelin?”
    He lifted his shoulders and I noticed the interesting way his eyes seemed to turn up at the corners when his lips did. He was scarcely handsome but with the blond hair bleached by sun at the temples and blue eyes that were rather small and crinkled as though he had lived in brilliant sunlight, his was the sort of face which I felt I would not easily forget.
    â€œI might ask,” he said, “what you are doing here. But I won’t…unless you want to tell me.”
    â€œI’m waiting for my aunt, Miss Brett. She has come to see some furniture. We’re from the Queen’s House,” I said.
    â€œOh, that place!”
    I fancied there was a hint of mockery in his voice and was warm in its defense. “It’s a fascinating house. Queen Elizabeth once slept there.”
    â€œSuch a habit that lady had for sleeping in other people’s houses!”
    â€œWell, she slept in ours, which is more…”
    â€œThan you can say for this one. No, we’re imitation Norman, I admit. But we’re firm and solid and this is the house that will withstand the winds of time. We’re built on a rock.”
    â€œOurs has proved it could do that. But I find it very interesting here.”
    â€œI’m delighted to hear it.”
    â€œDo you live here?”
    â€œWhen I’m ashore. Mostly I’m not.”
    â€œOh…you’re a sailor.”
    â€œHow discerning you are.”
    â€œI’m not really about people. Though I am learning about some things.”
    â€œTapestries?”
    â€œAnd old furniture.”
    â€œGoing to follow in Auntie’s footsteps?”
    â€œNo. No!” I spoke with great vehemence.
    â€œI expect you will. Most of us go where we’re led. And think what you already know about Gobelin tapestry.”
    â€œDid you…go where you were led?”
    He raised his eyes to the ceiling in a manner which, for no reason I could think of, I found very attractive. “I suppose you could say that I did.”
    I was filled with a desire to know more about him. He was just the sort of person I should have expected to meet in Castle Crediton and he excited me as though he were an unusual piece of furniture.
    â€œWhat should I call you?” I asked.
    â€œShould you call me?”
    â€œI mean…I should like to know your