A Kiss in the Dark Read Free

left.
    Lady deCourcy was so vexed, she had to ask the butler for directions a second time, for she had not heard a word of his first explanation. Fortunately the route was simple. Just turn left off the main drive and continue down the stone road to the second turning. The first obviously led to the cottage. She took the first turning.
     

Chapter Two
     
    She soon found herself cut off from the graceful park of the castle, where Repton had designed a winding stream to flow through artful rises and valleys, complete with “side screens” and “distances.” Nature had been left to run riot here, creating a tangled web of wild bushes and nettles with ivy creeping around their feet. She knew the cottage was built into the cliff midway down a rocky incline. Over treetops she could see its shingled roof, which appeared to be in perfect repair. She continued following the road until she reached the cottage, built on a plateau of rock, with a staircase carved into the stone leading to the beach. As there was no sign of life about the place, she alit from her high-perch phaeton to investigate.
    Upon close examination she discovered a dozen new delights to entrance her. The whole cottage was made of cedar shingles, weathered to silver by the elements. A frieze of carved woodwork below the roofline displayed tulips and hearts. The same theme was picked up in the painted window shutters. The windows, leaded in the shape of diamonds, twinkled in the sunlight. They were not particularly small windows, either.
    A refreshing breeze blew off the sea. Another railed balcony coming off the main floor had not been visible from the duke’s yacht. On it sat a delicate wrought iron table and chairs in a leafy design, speaking of intimate tea parties. An English garden grew in profusion, with sweet peas and roses clambering over the facade from a bed of ivy, campanulas, gentians, and wild strawberries. Ruby fruit glowed like jewels amid the greenery.
    She mounted the steps to the veranda and peered in the window into the main drawing room. Across the room a stone fireplace with a hanging pot looked just like the sketches in her fairy tales. Brass-fronted firedogs gleamed in the sunlight. There was a cozy-looking stuffed sofa with a table fronting it. On the table sat a wine bottle and two glasses. The cottage was in occasional use, then. Odd the servants had not cleaned up the mess. Where were they? As she pondered this mystery, a shadow fell across the sofa. A man was there! She scampered down from the porch into her high-perch phaeton and proceeded to the dower house.
    This edifice was all that Lady Dauntry had claimed, and more. It was nothing less than a mansion done in the same honey-colored brick as the castle, with its own stable and kitchen garden. Lady deCourcy was welcomed at the doorway by a stout, bustling housekeeper who introduced herself as Mrs. Armstrong, “But everyone calls me Tory, for Victoria is my name and I have been called Tory forever.” The first impression was of red, white, and blue, like the flag. Her hair, pulled into such a tight knob that it gave her eyes an Oriental cast, was white. Her face wasas red and round as a radish, and her eyes and gown were blue, the latter mostly covered by a starched white apron.
    “I’ll just put on the kettle while you have a look around,” she said, and bustled off to the kitchen.
    Cressida looked about the house, where the servants had been  busy with turpentine and beeswax. The woodwork glowed. There was not a mote of dust to be seen anywhere. A quick tour showed her a lofty Blue Saloon with a view of the sea beyond the front windows, a dining room that would seat a dozen, a small library, and large study. She climbed the broad, stately staircase to discover eight handsome bedchambers. Every new elegance made her more determined to remove to the cozy little cottage.
    She was tired of elegance; she wanted to rusticate like Marie Antoinette at the Petit Trianon, perhaps buy