Just then Conrad hobbled by and she knew he
must have overheard. The knowledge embarrassed her,
but only for a moment. It wasn’t as if she’d insulted him.
Merely spoken the truth, and if the truth hurt — well, she
couldn’t be blamed for that.
With the time getting on for midnight, Conrad
escorted the three to their rooms. They had to climb a
staircase that rose into dark regions, the lintels connected
by ornate posts topped by lions’ heads. At the top, a
Victorian grandfather clock ticked out the time broodingly
and faced a long corridor lined by suits of armour, old
landscapes in oils, and lighting so dim that the shadows
appeared to congeal in corners.
‘I would have preferred to accommodate you in
our annexe at the back but I’m afraid it couldn’t be
prepared at such short notice, madam,’ Conrad told Elsa.
He reminded her, with his rolling gait, of a crippled gnome
among all these relics of long-ago things.
‘However, I can offer you our best room. The
gentlemen, I’m sure, won’t mind somewhat smaller but
very comfortable quarters.’
He showed the men to their rooms first, and
accompanied Elsa to hers at the far end of the corridor.
‘As you see, I’ve made it as welcoming as possible,’
he said, pushing open the door and standing aside so Elsa
could enter first.
51