Gideon didn’t smile back. Was she teasing him? No one teased him.
Not anymore.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why? Are you a duchess?”
“Goodness, no. I’m just a housemaid.” She laughed, a light, tinkling sound, but then seemed to think better of it, and bit her lip. “Your housekeeper, Mrs. Briggs offered me a position as a housemaid. I’ve come on the stage from London today to take up the post.”
Gideon’s gaze moved over her as he considered this. She didn’t look much like a housemaid to him. She was taller than he’d first thought, but slight, with narrow shoulders, a long, delicate neck, and enormous dark eyes in a pale oval face. She was young, too. Too young to be teasing a murderous marquess. Didn’t the girl have any sense at all?
“If you came to Darlington Castle to take up a post as a housemaid, then why haven’t you made your presence known to Mrs. Briggs? I fail to see what you’re doing out here in the dark.” Gideon frowned as he recalled the splash he’d heard as he approached. “What are you doing out here in the dark?”
Color rose in her pale cheeks. “Nothing of any import, my lord.”
Gideon’s lips tightened. She didn’t sound much like a housemaid, either, unless they’d become a great deal more impertinent than they used to be. He glanced down, then bent to retrieve the handful of stones she’d dropped when he’d startled her. He rose and opened his hand to show her. “Nothing?”
She blew out a breath. “I was, er…throwing stones into the lake.”
Gideon stared at her. “I can’t think of a single reason why you’d be doing that, when you must be aware Mrs. Briggs is awaiting your arrival.”
“I wanted to see if I could tell how deep it is.” She lifted one slender shoulder in a shrug.
“Six fathoms at its deepest point, though I’ve no idea why it should matter to you.”
She blinked at his curt tone. “I…it doesn’t matter, my lord. I was simply curious.”
He closed his fingers around the stones in his fist. “Curiosity isn’t a desirable quality in a housemaid.”
“No, I suppose not. I didn’t think of that.” She frowned, considering it, but then her face brightened. “I’ve got excellent aim. Perhaps that might prove a useful skill?”
Gideon didn’t like strangers, or impertinent servants, or surprises, but to his great annoyance, he found himself asking, “For what, precisely?”
“I should think it would come in handy for any number of tasks, like…” She paused, her brow wrinkling. “Wait, I know! For slapping cobwebs from the corners with a broom! This castle looks as if it’s dripping in cobwebs.”
“You’re too slight to be a proper servant.” Her thin, white wrists looked as if they’d snap under the weight of a broom. “I doubt you could lift a coal scuttle without toppling over.”
Gideon didn’t usually concern himself with the sturdiness of his housemaids, nor was he in the habit of questioning Mrs. Briggs’s judgment, but he was curious to hear what she’d say in reply, and it had been a long, long time since he’d been curious about anything.
Her smile faded. “I’m stronger than I look, my lord.”
Gideon grunted, thinking whatever she lacked in strength she’d likely make up for in ingenuity, but he didn’t say so. It sounded too much like a compliment. “Mrs. Briggs didn’t say a word to me about a new housemaid arriving today.”
He didn’t mention he’d hardly exchanged a dozen words with Mrs. Briggs since he’d arrived from London this afternoon. There hadn’t been time. He’d been impatient to begin a search of the grounds, and Mrs. Briggs, who hadn’t been expecting him to return to Kent until next week, was up to her neck in wedding preparations.
He’d intended to remain in London with Miss Honeywell for another week, but his friend Lord Haslemere, who’d spent most of the winter rusticating at his country estate in Surrey, had heard the rumors about the White Lady and sent Gideon a note, warning him a ghost was prowling about his castle, and calling him back to Kent.
“I assure you, Mrs. Briggs is expecting me today, my lord.” Miss Gilchrist’s chin hitched up. She was doing her best to brazen it out, but she was beginning to look as if she’d rather plunge into Darlington Lake than spend another moment with him.
Gideon couldn’t blame her, really. Housemaid or not, no young woman wanted to be trapped alone in the dark between the Murderous Marquess and his enormous, haunted castle.
“Mrs. Briggs is expecting someone.” He doubted it was this peculiar young woman who didn’t look or speak like any servant he’d ever seen, and who’d appeared out of nowhere to throw stones into his lake. Still, she was here, and Mrs. Briggs needed the help. “Very well, Miss Gilchrist.” Gideon beckoned her forward with a sigh. “Come with me.”
“Yes, my lord.” She took up the traveling case at her feet, and followed him through the arched doorway on one side of the courtyard and into the long, narrow entrance hall.
“This way,” he said, when she paused to take in the timbered ceiling and carved wood paneling on the walls. He led her down a corridor off the entry hall to his study, which was tucked into a back corner of the castle.
“Sit down.” Gideon waved her to a chair near his massive carved mahogany desk, then crossed the room to pull the bell and summon Mrs. Briggs.
He seated himself behind the desk and rested his elbows on the arms of his chair. Neither of them said a word as they waited, each staring at the other until Mrs. Briggs tapped her knuckles against the door. “Yes, Lord Darlington?”
“Mrs. Briggs. Come in, please. Cecilia Gilchrist, the new housemaid, has arrived.”
“Yes, of course. With one thing and another, I nearly forgot.” Mrs. Briggs hurried across the room and held out her hand to Cecilia. “My goodness, you’re a tiny bit of a thing, aren’t you? Welcome, welcome. I’m Mrs. Briggs, the housekeeper.”
Miss Gilchrist rose and dipped into a hasty curtsy. “How do you do, Mrs. Briggs?”
“Very well, very well indeed. Sit down, child.”
Miss Gilchrist sat down.
“I’m relieved you’re here at last,” Mrs. Briggs went on. “I expected you an hour ago. I thought perhaps you’d changed your mind about accepting the post when…” Mrs. Briggs trailed off, and an awkward silence descended.
There was only one reason Miss Gilchrist would have changed her mind about the post. Mrs. Briggs had told him their last prospective housemaid had arrived in Edenbridge, heard the rumors about the Darlington Castle ghost, and turned right back around, leaving that same day.