She felt that Lady Lynche would not wish to send for a physician for the child unless it was absolutely necessary. And she was certain in her own mind that all that had happened was that, after the long day travelling and the excitement of running about the garden, Dipa had a slight chill.

Intent on her thoughts she realised after a few minutes that she had wandered into a part of The Castle that she had not yet seen.

The nurseries were situated on the third floor in the very centre of the building, right above the great entrance hall on the ground floor, while from The Castle proper two huge wings had been built by successive generations of Lynches who had wanted to beautify and embellish their home.

Carina realised now that she must have wandered into a Tudor wing. The passages were narrow and low and were panelled with exquisite linen-fold oak panelling, but from the silence she guessed that these rooms were empty.

Finding a staircase, she descended, feeling that she had perhaps been impetuous and rather silly to look for Mrs. Barnstaple without any idea of where her room might be situated.

To her relief Carina saw below her a valet wearing the striped yellow and blue waistcoat of Lord Lynche’s livery and carrying in his hand a loaded tray covered with a white cloth.

Not liking to shout and ask him to direct her, she quickened her pace, only to see him to her utter astonishment disappear into what was apparently the wall itself!

He had only been halfway down the flight of stairs and, when in a few seconds, Carina reached the spot where she had last seen him, she thought almost with a sense of terror that she must have seen a ghost.

The man had completely vanished!

“I did see him. I know I saw him,” Carina whispered beneath her breath.

Then the sunshine coming through the window made her almost laugh at her own fantasy. Of course she had seen him! There were no such things as ghosts.

Had she not been certain of that when the legendary ‘Grey Lady’ of Claverly Court never appeared to her, but only to hysterical housemaids or menservants who were to all intents and purposes simpletons?

She stood and stared at the panelling and the memory of secret passages, of priest holes and all the tales she had heard of Royalists being concealed from the Roundheads came rushing to her mind. Of course carved panelling was the perfect place for a concealed door that no one could find unless they knew the exact place to look!

Almost as if she was a child again, Carina felt excited. Supposing she pressed one of the Tudor roses and the panel slipped back, should she enter, or should she hurry away?