Love at the Tower Read Free Page A

on earth can he mean?’ she said to herself. ‘How can our own butler not know where the Master of the house is?’
    She took off her coat and handed it to Nanny.
    She did not know if she should run to the library or whether to go upstairs to knock on his bedroom door.
    â€œYou must be so tired, Robina,” suggested Nanny. “Why don’t you go up to your bedroom and I will ask for a tray with some supper to be brought to you.”
    Nanny could plainly see the turmoil raging within her, but she was powerless to help. Sir Herbert had made her promise that she would not say anything about the new arrangements until he had spoken to her himself.
    â€œBut I want to see my Papa!” she answered Nanny with her voice getting shriller.
    â€œYou will see him in the morning,” said Nanny in a soothing tone, but Robina was in no mood to be placated.
    She turned and grabbed Nanny by the shoulders, her fingers digging into her arms.
    â€œWhere is he, Nanny? Do you know? Why won’t anyone tell me where he is?”
    A noise at the top of the stairs made her look up.
    With much hope in her heart that it was her father, she glanced up to see the figure of a woman in evening dress come slowly down the stairs towards her.
    â€œYou must be Robina – welcome home,” mouthed the woman with very little warmth in her voice.
    Robina could only stare in disbelief at the apparition walking towards her.
    The woman was dressed in a green velvet dress in the latest style with large puffed sleeves decorated in black lace and dainty ribbon shoulder straps.
    Around her neck glittered a necklace of enormous emeralds and she wore matching earrings. There was also an obsidian brooch set in gold at the front of her dress that was almost as large as a pullet’s egg.
    Robina’s first impression was that she was terribly overdressed and that, although very beautiful, she was no longer a young woman.
    â€œWho – who are you?” she stammered, unable to take her eyes off the glittering figure who stood only feet away from her.
    â€œYour father will explain everything to you. Now do hurry, he is waiting in the library – he has some news for you I am certain you will want to hear.”
    Robina’s heart hammered in her chest.
    Her mouth felt dry and the prospect of seeing her father suddenly did not seem half as appealing.
    â€œCome along,” said the woman, beckoning for her to follow as she walked towards the library, “we are about to have dinner, rather late, I am afraid, and I know that he wishes to speak with you before it is served.”
    Mutely she allowed herself to be led to the library.
    â€˜Who is this woman who makes me feel a stranger in my own home?’ she pondered, as she entered the library.
    Her father was standing by the desk, looking rather healthier than he had the last time she had seen him. His cheeks had filled out and he had lost the haunted look that had blighted his face.
    â€œRobina, I am so glad you have come home again,” he began, only meeting her eyes for a fleeting moment.
    â€˜There is something not right here,’ she mused and did not know whether to approach him or if she should stay where she was.
    She waited for him to speak, but the silence seemed interminable.
    The strange woman in the evening dress crossed the room and went to her father’s side.
    There was something in the way that she looked up at him – in mute adoration as if he was the centre of her world – that made Robina feel sick to her very stomach.
    Her head spun and she grasped hold of a chair to steady herself. Not only was she feeling tired, but she was disorientated.
    After speaking only French for so long, she was not certain that she really understood just what was happening, as her father continued,
    â€œRobina, my dear, there is something I need to tell you and I do want you to be very happy for me,” he said at last, taking the