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I felt lonely. My father had gone away; and Luke seemed different. He was obsessed by the house, learning all he could about it. He was often in Sebastian's company. I was a little alarmed, for there were times when I caught a slight resentment in him when his gaze fell on Sebastian. I hoped Sebastian was not aware of it.

From Amy I gleaned certain information about the household— quite different from the kind sought by Luke.

I learned about the people who inhabited the house.

There was an army of servants. It was inevitable with a place of that size. Many of them had been there for years, as their parents had before them. Sebastian had said that Rosslyn Manor was like a village, and I saw now how very right he had been.

Besides the grooms, who lived in the stables which were very extensive, there were the servants who lived in the tower and many others who had cottages on the estate, and most of those who worked in the grounds and gardens. There was also the home farm, which supplied most of the household's needs.

It was from Amy that I learned more about Lady Rosslyn.

I often wondered whether I talked too much of this, but the relationship between Amy and myself was not the usual one between mistress and maid, perhaps because of our ages and the fact that I was no more used to this way of life than she was. In any case, it removed any barrier between us that there might have been.

Everyone knew, of course, of the nature of the relationship between the master and mistress of the house. For years they had lived what was referred to as "separate lives." In such a house it was conveniently possible for there to be two separate households, and it had been thus for many years.

"There is talk about it in the kitchens," said Amy. "It has all come up again because you and Master Luke have come here."

"What do they say about that?" I asked.

"That the mistress don't like it and that she knows ... even though she can't speak much, or if she does, it is only Mistress Galloway who knows what she is saying."

Amy was a little hesitant at first, wondering whether she ought to be talking to me thus, just as I asked myself whether, as my father's daughter, I should be having such conversations with a maid.

But, because we were both young and inexperienced in what should and should not be done, the conversations continued.

I was very eager to know about Lady Rosslyn. I felt she had played an important part in my life. It was simple enough to believe that her relations with her husband had led to my father's entanglement with my mother—and, of course, that concerned my very existence. Moreover, I wanted to know, and I did not care enough about the etiquette of behavior if it were going to bar my way to knowledge.

So I learned by degrees that there had always been this aloof relationship between my father and his wife. They each behaved as though the other did not exist, except on those occasions— traditional functions and so on—when they had to appear together. But that was in the past. There would be no more of those now.

For some years now Mistress Galloway had lived with Lady Rosslyn. She was a cousin. They had been brought up together and were like sisters.

It appeared that Mistress Galloway had become a widow and had been left in straitened circumstances. Lady Rosslyn had invited her to come and live at Rosslyn Manor with her, and this she had done. They were close as two peas in a pod, Amy told me, and always had been. Mistress Galloway made a goddess of Lady Rosslyn, thinking nothing but good of her, and she couldn't abide his lordship, because she blamed him for everything.

"For not having children?" I asked. "I thought that was the main trouble between them."

"Mistress Galloway believes that if he had been a good husband to my lady, it would have been different."

"Perhaps if she had been a good wife to him, he would have been," I defended him.

Amy said: "Mayhap neither of them were what they should be. And to get to this pass! And there his lordship was, leading the sort of life lords live in London ... following His Majesty the King, that is." She stopped and hunched her shoulders.

I smiled. "Everyone knows how it stands with the King," I said.

"Well," said Amy, "it seems to be the way of the world. But Mistress Galloway does not like it and she says it is wrong, and so it seems does my lady. But it is a terrible thing that has happened to her, and it is a blessing, they say in the kitchens, that she has Mistress Galloway to look after her. Her ladyship has been good to Mistress Galloway, for they say it would go hard with her if she had no place to go, and then, of course, she has little Francine with her."

"Who is little Francine?" I wanted to know.

"Oh, Mistress Kate, there is much you don't know about this place. But I suppose it's you just coming here, and you being on his side, and little Francine being on hers."

"I should like to hear about little Francine," I said.

"She's Mistress Galloway's granddaughter. She's not been here long. It was good of Lady Rosslyn to let her come, but then I suppose she would, being fond of Mistress Galloway, and a relation too. Little Francine would be connected with Lady Rosslyn. So it is natural, like. So there she is, up in Lady Rosslyn's part, with her grandmother, you see."

"And you say she came here recently?"

"I don't know quite when. Mistress Kate, being new-come myself. Her mother died, you see, and she was left an orphan. And her being what she is ..."

"What is she. Amy?"

"Strange little thing. Not quite natural. They say it was due to her being dropped when she was a little one."

"Dropped?"

"On her head. Some nursemaid, it was. She seemed all right at the time, but there is something about her ..." Amy frowned and looked into the distance, puzzled.

"What is it about her. Amy?"

"I can't rightly say. It is just that she is not quite like other folk, if you get my meaning."

"I don't really, Amy. In what way is she so different from other folk?"

"I cannot rightly say. It is just the way she looks at you and smiles to herself ... and the way she looks about her, as though she can see something you can't."

"Oh. It sounds rather uncomfortable."

"Yes," said Amy thoughtfully. "You might say that. She goes about quiet, like, and suddenly you find she's there, as though she's come from nowhere and is seeing something you can't see. It's creepy, like."

"I understand."

"Her grandmother thinks the world of her. I've seen them together ... it's the way she looks at her."

I said: "I'll watch for Francine."

I did not have long to wait.

I had been a week at Rosslyn Manor but I had not seen my father since my arrival. I gathered that he was often away and that he spent a great deal of time in London. I guessed there was no need for him to stay in the country. James was the most efficient of managers and it certainly suited him to have no interference from the master so that he could do everything his way. I had long guessed that and Christobel had confirmed it.

I believed my father was giving us a chance to settle in before he let us know what he had planned for us.

Every day I rode over to Christobel's house, so I was seeing almost as much of her as I had done in the past.

One day I came back to Rosslyn Manor and, having left my horse in the stables, I made my way up to my room. As I mounted the spiral staircase, I had formed a habit of glancing over my shoulder. I had a feeling that I was being watched, as I often had when I was in the house alone. It was the vastness of the place, that air of brooding antiquity, the constant reminder of a long-past age.

I went into my room and pulled up sharply. A young girl was sitting by the window.

I said: "Hello. Who are you?"