“We’re a small village here. Are you sure I cannot help? I am Dr Grayson Day, at your service.” He bowed, removed his bowler hat, and offered a hand in greeting.
If this was to be her new home, perhaps she could try to make a friend, or even just an acquaintance. If she imagined him one of her father’s boring business associates, it didn’t seem quite so scary to converse with him. It might be to her advantage to know a doctor, especially if she ran out of tonic.
“I am Miss Dawn Uxbridge, and I have been offered the position of restoring the gardens at Ravenswing Manor.” Dawn took his hand in a brief and gentle handshake. As a polite child, she had been used to speaking only when addressed by an adult, and it soothed her nerves to fall back on what she knew – answering the question put to her.
“Really?” His eyebrows shot up higher. “Very forward thinking of Lord Seton to employ a young woman.”
Dawn swallowed but her tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her dry mouth. She could only hope Lord Seton was indeed forward thinking, or very nearsighted. Perhaps he would prove to be so old that he was blind. Then the only problem would be her feminine voice. It might be too much to wish he were both blind and deaf.
“I was employed on my merits,” she murmured. That sounded so much better than admitting her deception. The village policeman might haul her away on the earl’s command. She would then face deportation to the colonies as a fraudster, and Australia had a horribly hot and dry climate not at all suited to gardening.
The doctor winked. “Well, Hector has probably been sent to collect you. He won’t be too far away.”
The porter emerged from the office and handed a parcel to the doctor. He thanked the man, glanced at the label, and then tucked it under his arm.
“Ah. Here comes Hector now.” Dr Day pointed to the large specimen who rounded the corner. He waved at the man and called out, “I have found the earl’s new gardener, Hector.”
Hector appeared more undertaker than loyal retainer. He had a tall, sparse frame and overly long arms that made Dawn imagine a daddy longlegs spider transformed to human form and not yet in control of its new limbs. His pale complexion enhanced the grim set of his narrow mouth. A bowler hat was pulled low over his ears and concealed most of his head, with no sign of any hair sticking out underneath.
“You’re a woman.” Hector stopped and glared at her from under grey, bushy brows. These were an unruly hedge neglected for some years. His eyes were a dark brown that reminded her of cocoa.
Dawn clutched the orchid a little tighter and wished it provided a more substantial barrier from the ominous presence before her. She swallowed and tried to piece together an adequate response to his statement. Mentally she scoured the pages of the Ladies’ Etiquette Handbook, but she couldn’t find a reply designed for incensed cadavers. In the pressure of the moment, she blurted out, “Yes, and I have been a woman for some time.”
The brown eyes narrowed, and then a marvellous transformation was wrought over his face. He grinned and revealed he was missing his front teeth. “Has been a woman for some time,” he repeated, slapped Dr Day on the back, and then he burst into laughter.
“I’ll leave you in Hector’s capable hands, Miss Uxbridge.” Dr Day bent his head and then placed his bowler back on his hair. Then he leaned in and whispered, “You’ll do fine. Don’t be afraid to speak your mind, and don’t let Jasper bully you. He is rather used to getting his way.”
Jasper, Dawn whispered the name to herself. At her murmured invocation, the raven cawed and took flight from the station office.
Hector was still chuckling to himself as he picked up the suitcase with one hand and the carpetbag with his other. “This way, miss.”
Not far away, an open gig waited. One grey horse pulled it and another sat in the back. Dawn’s feet paused as she stared at the shaggy creature the size of a pony. Hector placed the luggage in the back.
Dawn kept hold of the orchid. She pointed to the enormous animal. “Who is that?”
Hector patted the beast on the head and ruffled his ears. “This is Mouse. He’s a wolfhound, and he was most insistent that he come meet you. Most odd. He doesn’t usually like strangers, but when I said I was coming to fetch you, he jumped in the cart and refused to budge.”
“Mouse? He doesn’t seem mouse-like.” Dawn glanced sideways at the canine.
His shaggy coat was the colour of a stormy sky. A bright pink tongue lolled in his mouth, and clear, brown eyes regarded her with curious intelligence from behind a mop of fur that flopped over his face.
“He was supposed to be called Moose, but the young master spelled his name wrong. These hounds have minds of their own. You don’t say no to Mouse when he decides something, and it seems he’s decided on you.” Hector chuckled as he took her hand and helped her into the gig.
The dog shuffled closer, keeping its head low as though he didn’t want to intimidate Dawn with his size. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be acquired by a wolfhound. Did that mean he wanted her to chew on at night, like a small child would worry at a teddy bear’s ears? When she held out a hand, the dog sniffed her glove and then pressed his face into her palm.
“Hello, Mouse. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” She stroked his long muzzle and the dog licked her glove. Did that mean she was acceptable, or tasty?
The ride through the descending mist to the manor was a blur of large trees and bumpy roads. Dawn didn’t see any sign of town, but Hector gestured back over his shoulder when she enquired. She took that to mean it was in the opposite direction. She had never ventured so far north, and there was a chill bite to the spring evening. Mist rolled down from the surrounding hills and blanketed the valley.
Despite Hector’s grim appearance, there was quite a chatterbox underneath his hat. Dawn was relieved, as it removed the pressure on her to engage in conversation. She had only to listen as Hector kept up a steady commentary on everything from the weather to Mouse’s latest antics. He also advised her not to be frightened of the master and that he growled more than he bit.
So far everyone she met had warned her about Lord Seton, and it only increased her anxiety. At least now she and the orchid could hide behind Mouse – he would be more than adequate as a shield.
Before long, they turned off the main road and passed through enormous gates that soared to twelve feet on either side of them. Copper vines twisted around the bars as they climbed and flowered over the gates. Among the leaves hid two ravens, their wings spread as though about to take flight. Two stone pillars anchored the gates on each side. Atop each pillar sat a squat, winged creature. Long claws curled around the edge of the pillar, and each spread wing had another claw at the tip. One peered one way, and the other stared in the opposite direction as though they were sentries for the big house.
“What are those creatures?” She pointed to the hideous ornaments as they passed.
“Gargoyles.” Hector touched the brim of his bowler as they passed below the stone guardians.
Watchers report to stone masters. Her mother’s words whispered through her mind.
Dawn shivered and turned her attention to the approach. To some it might appear to be only a tree-lined driveway, but a thinking designer would include even this part in their overall plan. A quick glimpse of the house through the trees teased the visitor, and then it disappeared with the curve of the drive. The visitor was left wanting more, trying to remember what they saw.
At last they turned another corner and the trees stepped back to reveal the house. The central part of the house was only two storeys. Four-storeyed towers flanked the main building and were set at an angle. Overall, the manor reminded Dawn of the architectural equivalent of the squat winged characters at the entranceway.
Hector drove the cart around the side and pulled the horse to a halt in front of a double-height barn with its doors wide open.