A man like Liam Jenkins didn’t just show up at Thornwood Castle with a vague dream of medieval re-enactments or something.
‘So, which room is yours?’ Liam called back, and Alice scurried to catch him up.
‘Um, I have a box room on the ground floor.’ Near the boiler, and close to the kitchens. It was the warmest place in the castle, and Alice loved it—even if it wasn’t all that much bigger than her office. Small spaces were comforting. There was no space for anything—or anyone—to hide, there.
‘Rose had the master suite, along here, though,’ she added, taking a left turn in the corridor and leading him to a large oak door. ‘We’ve cleared it out already, and it’s made up fresh if you’d like to use it?’ She hoped so. Rose’s suite was one of the few bedrooms in a suitable condition for long-term accommodation. If he said no, Alice had a feeling it would somehow become her job to clear out and do up another room to suit him.
Somehow, a lot of things around Thornwood became Alice’s job, mostly just because it was quicker and easier to take care of things herself than expect anyone else to do it.
Actually, not just around Thornwood. Alice’s rule for living number two was: don’t expect anyone to do anything for you. She figured if they did it was a pleasant surprise. And at least she was never disappointed when they inevitably didn’t.
Technically, Rose had hired her as a fundraiser—to raise money to help keep Thornwood running, without having to open it up for tours. Alice had convinced her that the best way to keep the house open, useful and sort of private was to use it to help the local residents. Rose’s sense of duty had been tickled, and now here they were. Alice raised money—through begging phone calls to donors, or fundraising activities on site—but she also organised the seminars and classes they held, as well as took care of the women. Her salary—small as it was—was paid from the money she raised, so she rarely took more than her room and board, and money for essentials. She was all too aware of the other uses that money could be put to.
Everyone else on site was a volunteer—except for Maud, the cook-slash-housekeeper, who’d been in Rose’s service for decades. Even Heather, who practically ran the place when Alice was busy, did it for nothing. And she had quickly claimed responsibility for taking care of the women who came to them in real trouble, which Alice appreciated. They’d managed to put together a stockpile in the pantry, full of all the essentials women, children and babies might need—especially if they couldn’t go home again. Some just needed enough food to see them through until payday. Others needed clothes, toiletries, nappies, a pay-as-you-go phone with a number no one had—and a way out. Alice was proud that their work meant they could help all of them—or at least get them to the best place for them to find real long-term help. She’d built up great connections with refuges and charities nationwide, and the work they did at Thornwood was well respected. Women came to them now from across the county, not just the local villages.
She just hoped Liam’s sense of duty was as strong as his great-aunt’s.
Opening the door to the suite of rooms, she let Liam walk in first, ignoring the slight pang in her chest she always felt when she saw Rose’s space empty.
Alice couldn’t honestly say that she and Rose had been friends, but she had certainly developed a great deal of respect for the old woman in the time she’d been working at Thornwood. Rose’s beliefs and opinions might have been from a bygone age in lots of ways, but when it came down to the essentials she was practical and—to Alice’s great surprise—compassionate.
Rose could have sold Thornwood for millions twice over, or she could have hired a company to make it into a tourist attraction. But instead she’d hired Alice, and told her to ‘make Thornwood useful again.’ Not in a large, flashy, lucrative way. In a way that served the community, and filled a gap in society. In a way that helped people—women just like Alice had been four years ago. Desperate.
Leaning against the heavy door, she watched Rose’s great-nephew explore the room—running a hand over the antique dresser, sticking his head into the more modern bathroom. Then he crossed to the window and stared out at the gardens beyond.
‘What do you think?’ Alice asked when he didn’t turn back. ‘Will it suit?’
‘Hmm?’ Liam turned back, apparently startled out of his own thoughts. ‘Oh, definitely. The space out there will be perfect for—’ He cut himself off. ‘You meant the rooms. Yeah, they’ll be fine. I don’t imagine I’ll be spending much time in them, anyway.’
Which begged the question—where was he planning on spending his time? And doing what? Because he sure as hell hadn’t been thinking about the bedroom when he’d been looking out of that window. He’d been making plans—plans he clearly had no intention of sharing with her.
And that made Alice very nervous indeed.
‘Ready to show me downstairs?’ Liam flashed her a smile, as if the last few moments hadn’t happened at all.
Alice narrowed her eyes. He was hiding something, that much was clear. But what? And how much harm could it do to everything Alice had built up at Thornwood?
She supposed there was only one way to find out.
She took a deep breath and stretched her face into a bright and happy smile. ‘Absolutely.’
* * *
Liam followed Alice back down endless, labyrinthine corridors, still thinking about the large expanse of forest he’d seen from Rose’s window. It would be perfect for an outdoor pursuits centre. He could see go-karting and paintball, maybe a ropes course. Plenty to keep the kids entertained while the parents took high tea up at the castle, or whatever it was people wanted from a stately home. Regardless, there was plenty of potential there.
Once he’d dealt with the castle’s current residents, of course.
After one last sharp turn in the corridor, they were suddenly spat out into a wide-open landing, leading to a grand double staircase, which joined halfway down to provide steps wider than he was tall. The dark wooden bannisters had been twined with glossy dark green leaves and bright red berries. Below stood an enormous Christmas tree, already strung with lights and glass baubles, the angel on top almost reaching the very top of the stairs. Liam couldn’t imagine how they’d even got it in through the doors.
‘Impressive tree,’ he said, nodding towards it.
Alice gave him a small, tight smile. ‘We like to celebrate life every way we can here. Now, after you?’ She gestured towards the stairs.
Liam frowned. The staircase was clearly wide enough for both of them to descend at the same time, yet Alice hung back in a way she hadn’t before. She was the one who knew her way around, so she’d led the way for most of the tour. What was different now? Was this some sort of prank?
He took the first step gingerly, relieved when it felt perfectly solid and ordinary under his foot.
Behind him, he heard Alice let out a long breath of relief, and knew that this was just another puzzle he’d need to figure out before he could leave Thornwood.
Safely at the bottom, Liam turned to admire the staircase. It would be a grand welcome for guests, a great way to make them feel they really had bought a piece of the English aristocracy experience. Then he blinked, and realised he wasn’t looking at the staircase at all.
He was watching Alice.
She
