Winterly (Dark Creatures Book 1), стр. 51

“Yes, please, Mrs. Skinner,” said Emma, looking at her poor sister hopping surreptitiously from one foot to the other, “and a visit to the powder room, if you please.”

“Of course.”

“Is Miss Winterly home?”

“Miss Winterly and master Valko, will be joining you for supper.”

“Mr. Valko!” said Milli in an aside to Emma as they trailed the housekeeper.

“Don’t excite yourself, Milli, or you might not make it to the water closet.”

Milli snorted and elbowed her sister as they entered through the double doors. “Is Lord Winterly in residence, Mrs. Skinner?”

The housekeeper received their spencer jackets and bonnets with a stony glare. “His lordship is out for the evening.” Satisfied that she had answered Milli’s query sufficiently, the old drudge stored their belongings in the coat room and turned to lead them deeper into the castle, unaware that Milli’s tongue was stuck out behind her.

Emma pinched her sister and tried not to laugh. Mrs. Skinner led them along a stone gallery and Emma drank in as much as the housekeeper’s pace would allow, which was not much, for the lamps in the sconces were veritably medieval and offered very little light. Like the stone flags, and the dreadful housekeeper, the tapestries were manifestly ancient and much of the gold and silver thread had lost its luster, though all was in excellent repair.

After the sisters had seen to certain necessities and repaired their appearances somewhat, Mrs. Skinner conducted them into the great hall and towards a long dining table. There were four places set at one end of the table overlooked by a branch of silver candlesticks. The fireplace was a welcome sight, aglow with heat, for the castle was drafty and the chill of the night had found a way through the stones and into Emma’s bones.

“There is no fire in the drawing room tonight. I trust you will find the dining hall a more comfortable wait while I inform my lady of your arrival.” And with that the housekeeper was gone.

“What a strange old creature,” said Milli hastening to the fireside.

Emma joined her there, marveling up at the gargoyles staring down at them from the eaves. What had they seen and heard in all the centuries spent eavesdropping in the shadows. “It’s all perfectly strange,” said Emma.

They both gave a start as the dining room door suddenly opened to admit Mr. Valko and Victoria.

“You are come at last.” Arms wide, Victoria descended upon them with her usual kisses and smiles. “Come, come, sit down, you must be famished. Valko, you sit beside Milli.”

He affected an obedient bow and guided a blushing Milli to her seat.

A footman, who had stood invisible till now, so still was he, suddenly moved to seat Victoria and Emma. His face was eerie white in the dim light. He’d been in the room all along and Emma had not even known it! Like a wicked monk appearing magically through the wall! Emma bethought herself like a heroine in one of those dark and peculiar German fairy tales by the brothers Grimm. Was she, like Rapunzel, to awaken soon with a belly swollen with child, the work of some midnight prince scaling her window of a nighttime? Her skin puckered, and not from the cold, for the thought was too reminiscent of the incubus in her dream. It was best also to ignore the unwelcome thrill that had surged at the memory of her phantom lover’s carnal kisses, so unlike the chaste version bestowed by the flesh and blood Markus Winterly.

Emma’s face colored, doubtless giving her thoughts away, but her companions continued their conversation, oblivious to her silence and blushes. A delicate china bowl was placed atop her service plate, distracting her, and thereat a ladle of soup was carefully poured within. The spoon was halfway to her mouth when she suddenly froze, and indeed so did the others. That sound…

“Was…was that a wolf?” asked Milli. Her face had gone white as the footman’s.

“I heard it too,” said Emma. “Howling.”

“There are no wolves in England,” said Victoria, but her smile appeared unnatural.

Mr. Valko lowered his spoon into his now empty bowl, the only one whose appetite seemed unaffected by the distant howling resonating through the castle walls. “Only the wind.” But his face too was different somehow, harder. In fact, he was so unlike himself tonight that Emma was sure there was something the matter with him.

Milli must have noticed it too, for she looked much restrained compared to the last time they were together. Neither she nor Victoria touched their soup.

“There it is again,” said Milli, casting a dubious glance at Valko.

It was a very haunting sound indeed, thought Emma. No wonder her sister looked so spooked.

“As I said,”—Valko was glowering across the table at Victoria—“only the wind.”

“Well, my dears, you must be exhausted.” Victoria gestured to the footman who nodded in response and left the room at her silent command. “No doubt, you wish to retire now. I shall have Mrs. Skinner summoned to settle you comfortably in your suites.”

Emma glanced down at her cold soup bowl, still half full, but found she was no longer hungry anyway. Disquietude had replaced her appetite. No wonder Mrs. Skinner was so wasted—it was unequivocally the castle and its haunted moors that induced a body’s abstemiousness.

As though she’d conjured the woman up with thought alone, Mrs. Skinner appeared at the door and waited silently as Valko drew Milli’s chair back, the footman once more attending to Victoria and Emma.

“I trust,” said Victoria, “you will not let the wind disturb your slumber; you are quite safe here, I assure you.”

“So long as you remain indoors at night,” Valko subjoined.

They bid their hostess and her cousin a good night and followed Mrs. Skinner and her feeble candlelight from the great hall. The stone passageway through which they were lead finally opened up into the grand foyer they’d first entered by. It was here that two curving staircases split off into opposite directions, like mirror images of one another, opening up