Murkmere by Patricia Elliott Page B

doesn’t know I read them now.”
    “The Master gives you the freedom of the cabinets?” I said wistfully.
    “I keep the key for him. The Master’s rooms are never private; he can’t have any secrets there.” She reached into the pocket
     in her cloak and took out a small brass key, which sparkled in the light as she held it up to me. “He asked me about a book
     yesterday. That’s why I came just now — to look for it. I keep the key in my room, in an old pot. It had chamomile face cream
     in it once. Even if Dog found the keyand guessed what it was for, she’d never dare unlock the cabinets.”
    “I won’t say anything to her, Miss.”
    “A companion should know her mistress’s secrets; that’s why I’m telling you. But if you tell anyone else, like your precious
     Mr. Silas, I’ll cut your throat, do you understand?” Her eyes blazed suddenly and I reeled back. “I’ll know if you do, and
     I keep a knife under my pillow. Remember that.”
    “I won’t say anything, Miss Leah,” I repeated faintly. I’d no doubt she’d carry out her threat.
    She looked bleakly toward the long window where the clouds were darkening, sending shadows into the room. “If only the Master
     would rid himself of Silas.”
    For a moment I felt his white hands on my bodice, and shivered. “You saved me, Miss. I should thank you.”
    She went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “Silas’s father was steward to Mr. Tunstall’s father in the grand days of Murkmere, you
     know; that’s why Mr. Tunstall won’t get rid of Silas now. The old Master even paid for Silas to go to school in the Capital.
     He came back changed, they say. I was a tiny child wanting to play and he’d set butterflies on fire to tease me.”
    She was silent awhile, her face bitter. My own heart was bitter too. I wondered if it would ever recover.
    “That’s when I bit him!” said Leah suddenly. “On the right hand, it was. You notice he writes with his left now?” Her voice
     was gleeful. “The wound went septic. It took so long to heal he had to learn to write all over again, with his lefthand.” She leaned closer and made a face at me. “He tasted of the dung heap!”
    I shuddered; I couldn’t speak for a while, looking at her chuckle to herself. “He asked me to watch you, Miss Leah,” I said
     at last. “It was spying he wanted, in truth.”
    She snorted. “Do you think I don’t know? At least you’re honest.”
    “But isn’t it your guardian’s wish? Isn’t that why Mr. Silas wants it?”
    “Gilbert Tunstall worries about my safety because he loves me. Silas Seed loathes me. I’ve no idea why he spies on me.”
    She began to stride around with her mouth turned down, touching her neck restlessly and easing the collar of her cloak as
     if it choked her. Finally she flung round to stare at the window. “I hate this aerie of my guardian’s, though I’ve never told
     him. There’s all that sky outside, but it’s shut away. I can’t breathe.”
    “A strange place for a library,” I said. I could tell from the sharp glance Leah gave me that she knew exactly what I was
     thinking.
    “The Master wanted to be near the clouds. When I was small he’d come alone and watch them for hours.” She sucked her cheeks
     in. “I know it’s impractical, mad. The cost of strengthening this floor, then constructing the lift, nearly bankrupted the
     estate. All the pieces of the pulley system are welded separately. He cut down some of the Murkmere oaks to build the stairs.”
     She sighed. “But he was determined to do it. He has a strong will.”

    I watched the clouds beyond the glass piling on each other, thick as curdled cream. What strange compulsion would draw a man
     to watch them alone, suspended between heaven and Earth, day after day?
    When I looked back at her, Leah was studying me with her piercing gray eyes, an odd expression on her face.
    “There’s another reason my guardian used to come. There’s something he keeps here.