Gilded Cage (Dark Gifts #1)(28)

The most startling thing happened the following week. They’d not yet been at Kyneston a month and the four of them were sat down to dinner. Daisy was uncharacteristically glum – even when Mum opened the oven and produced a surprise treat: apple crumble.

‘What’s up, puppy?’ Dad asked.

Daisy sniffed theatrically and wiped her nose with the back of her wrist.

‘I miss Gavar,’ she said, her voice small. ‘I’m going to go and check on Libby.’

And just as Mum put the pudding dish down in front of her, Daisy stood and disappeared upstairs.

The three of them looked at each other, bewildered.

‘Where’s Heir Gavar?’ Mum asked, after a moment.

Abi sighed, and dished herself some dessert.

‘He and Lord Jardine have gone up north,’ she said. ‘To Esterby Castle. It’s the First Debate – you know, when they discuss the Chancellor’s Proposal. There’s one in the autumn, one midwinter, then the Third Debate is here at Kyneston in the spring.

‘Jenner says they usually talk about the Proposals a lot, all the family, but that his dad and Gavar have been tightlipped this year. Silyen’s mixed up in it too, but I don’t get how. Jenner says his father claims the Proposal is so ridiculous it’s not even worth discussing. I don’t think he believes him, though.’

‘Jenner says this, Jenner says that,’ Dad said. ‘Are both my girls going doolally over these Jardine boys?’ His words were teasing, but his face was grim.

‘You watch yourself, young lady,’ Mum said.

Any retort would have kicked off an almighty family shouting match, so Abi bit her lip. Her parents were being absurd. She barely mentioned Jenner.

No, Daisy was the one they should be worried about. Heir Gavar might be charismatic but he was a brute, all swagger and shout, displeased with everyone and everything except his daughter.

And there was something even worse. Estate gossip held that he was responsible for the death of Libby’s mother, Leah. She had been shot accidentally when Gavar was out hunting one night.

Why would Leah have been roaming the grounds after dark? Abi couldn’t construct any convincing scenario.

Which led to one inescapable question: had it really been an accident?

At any rate, it couldn’t be safe for Daisy to spend so much time with Kyneston’s heir. All her initial fear of him had been replaced by a kind of worshipful adoration. But she was only ten, and while she was doing brilliantly minding Libby, surely at some point she’d slip up or make a mistake. Then how would Gavar react? No, it was too risky. Abi would have to see if Jenner could get Daisy assigned to some other task.

With this thought guilt welled up inside Abi again. She was no nearer to getting Luke transferred from Millmoor. The first few times she’d dropped her brother into conversation with Jenner, he had made no comment and she’d thought him simply preoccupied. But on the third occasion he’d turned to her with regret plain in those kind brown eyes.

‘I’m very sorry, Abigail, but there was a good reason why your brother couldn’t come to Kyneston, and that reason still stands. Please don’t ask me again.’

Then he shut himself off, just as he had the day they arrived or when they’d first asked about Libby.

His words were soft, but the refusal hit Abi hard. She had to keep asking. The thought of Luke stuck in Millmoor and at the mercy of people like that brutish guard for another few months was awful. That he might never join them was unthinkable. Luke, being the only boy, might fancy himself his sisters’ protector, but Abi was the eldest. Looking out for her siblings was her responsibility.

Whatever that ‘good reason’ was, she’d have to discover it. Overcome it.

In the meantime, there was Daisy to think about.

The next morning was a Saturday, and though the weather had turned chilly now it was late September, the day was sunny and gorgeous. Abi found her sister changing the baby and suggested a walk in the estate woods. It would be the perfect opportunity to give her a gentle talking-to about her attachment to both Libby and her father.

‘We can show Libby the foliage and kick some leaves around,’ she told her sister. ‘Babies like colour and noise, they stimulate their brains.’

‘Gavar would like that,’ Daisy said approvingly, as Abi tried not to roll her eyes. ‘I’ll go and find her hat and mittens.’

The woods were every bit as beautiful close up as they had appeared from a distance. By the lake was a showy miniature temple. (Follies had become fashionable among the Equals a few centuries ago, because clearly having an enormous house wasn’t ostentatious enough.) Then the trees began, and stretched as far as the eye could see. Kyneston Estate really was as vast as it had seemed that first day.

Abi led the way in beneath the branches, her boots rustling through the deep leaf-fall. Sunlight filtered through the tree canopy, making the already colourful foliage vivid and bright, like stained glass cast by someone who liked only the first half of the rainbow.

‘This one is red,’ said Daisy, stooping to pick up a leaf and presenting it to Libby, who promptly dropped it. ‘And this one is orange.’

Further ahead was a tall, triangular tree that was perfectly yellow. Abi bent to root in the leaf-fall for a nice specimen to show Libby.

Her hand hit something solid yet yielding. Furry.