to send a servant in a matter concerning him. When I arrive, my neighbours, they are good to me, they say, “We will go to the next castle ourselves to spare you the travelling. Your commission, it will be done in half the time and with less jostling to you of your old bones.” And so it goes. One visits another and they each of them travel only a short way to the next castle. I encourage them by saying, “You are welcome to my castle. I have with me a new bride!”’ he said with a twinkle in his eye. ‘You had small hospitality yesterday but today it will be not the same. You will like my neighbours, I think. Some of them are family and all of them are friends. They will entertain you and make up for the castle’s darkness with their humour and conversation. And they will like you. You are an ornament to my home. It is many years since such loveliness has been inside the castle. You are comfortable here, may I hope? You have everything you need?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘If there is anything I can do to make your stay more agreeable you must say, “Count! I will have this!”’
‘There is one thing,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Only say its name.’
‘There is no mirror in my room.’
He became as still as a heron. At last his hands moved and he said, ‘Alas! I have no mirrors. I have been a widower for very long, you understand, and a man with no pretensions to beauty, he does not seek to fill his home with these things. Ask anything of me but this.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Elizabeth hurriedly, hoping she had not wounded him. ‘Thank you, there is nothing else I need.’
‘I am glad of it. The castle, it is ancient and not made for today, it is made for the old times, when my ancestors they needed a fortress from war, but I have made it my home.’
Elizabeth felt uncomfortable for a moment, wondering if he could have heard her comments on the castle’s upkeep, but then dismissed the notion as impossible.
As they continued to talk, she felt herself growing more at peace with her surroundings. The Count spoke deprecatingly of the castle, but it was clear he loved it as his home, and Elizabeth began to view it with new eyes.
‘The portraits are good, do you not think?’ asked the Count, looking up at the picture she had been examining. ‘Of them, at least, I need not be ashamed. They were painted by a local artist, a man with much talent. That one in particular is a favourite of mine. The artist has caught the fabric well. See the lace!’
‘Who are they?’ asked Elizabeth. ‘The men in the portrait?’
‘The first is of my sire, the first Polidori,’ he said, pointing to the man on the left. ‘It is from him I inherit the castle. And the one on the right is a Darcy.’
‘Yes, I thought it must be. The family resemblance is striking,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Oui, though I think that Darcy is slimmer than the man in the portrait. And more handsome, n’est-ce pas?’
He dropped into French with the ease of the English aristocracy, and Elizabeth was glad he had not lapsed into his own native tongue, which, although it bore some resemblance to French, was one she did not recognise.
‘When was it painted?’ she asked.
‘Over a hundred years ago, in 1686. Times, they were very different then. The castle was full of light and laughter. Much has changed.’ He seemed to be lost in a reverie and Elizabeth did not like to disturb him, but at last he roused himself and said, ‘But we cannot live in the past. We must accept what we have in the present, and that is not so bad, with a visit from friends to look forward to. My housekeeper, she will be doing what she can to improve the castle’s appearance in honour of my valued guests. If it will not discommode you greatly, will you take your meal at noontide in your room and remain there until we eat at six o’clock? We keep early hours at the castle. I believe, in England, you call them country hours.’
Elizabeth said that it would not discommode her at all and the Count excused himself. She soon followed him from the room, feeling more cheerful than she had done since arriving at the castle.
She found Annie in her room, pressing her evening gowns