A Change of Location by Margaret Porter

Author:Margaret Porter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallica Press
Published: 2024-03-13T17:56:59+00:00

Chapter 17

After exploring Montacute House and its formal gardens, they proceeded to South Cadbury. The public pathway led them to a broad, flat hill. The ascent to the long-vanished fort wasn’t difficult, and the reward was a vista of lush woodlands interspersed with ridges and valleys. Hedgerows crisscrossed the meadows, dividing them into squares and rectangles of green wheat or yellow rapeseed flowers.

“I can see why King Arthur chose this spot for his Camelot,” Hannah commented.

“All those centuries ago, the view would’ve been quite different.” Martin turned and pointed. “He’s buried over there, in Glastonbury. Not far from the Tor—that mound in the distance, topped with the tower.”

On their way back to Stanwell, he remembered that he had an errand in Milverston Magna.

“Poppy asked me to go to Holly Cottage and decide what work needs doing before we publicize its availability. I can drop you at the house. I shouldn’t be gone for long.”

Jewel greeted Hannah exuberantly, clearly in need of activity as well as companionship, so she clipped a leash to the dog’s collar and took her into the garden. Beyond the tennis court, they met Poppy and Millie.

“Martin seemed especially chipper when I popped over from my office this morning. He couldn’t stop yawning while he spooned out the coffee grounds, as though he didn’t get much sleep. Care to confess?”

“No.” Although Hannah wouldn’t reveal exactly what had transpired, she said, “If you hadn’t swilled so much beer at The Peacock, I’d be packing my bag. Leaving for Boston.”

“I’m glad you’re not. Mart deserves to be happy.”

“So do you. Why not transfer your allegiance from The Huntsman’s Horn to The Peacock? Let Jack decide if your age difference matters. Any man would be glad to be fancied by a younger woman who looks like you.”

“Thanks.” Threading Millie’s leash through her fingers, Poppy added, “Caring for Mart as much as I do, I feel a responsibility to enlighten you about his previous relationships. Unless you don’t care to hear.”

“I’m not sure,” Hannah hedged. Poppy’s candor, her most consistent feature, could be a blessing or a curse.

“He went through a weird, wild child phase. Dyed his hair purple and wore leather trousers and a bicycle chain round his neck. When he and his mates went clubbing in London, their vibe scared away the society girls. Nobody knew his Uncle Rufus had executed a deed of gift, making him legal owner of this place and the castle up north and the London properties.”

“Something to do with avoiding inheritance tax, he said.”

“Exactly. After Eton, Mart went to his father’s Oxford college. When Isobel got sick he left, wanting to be with her during her treatment. After she recovered and moved to La Rochelle, he took off for Italy and explored a bit of Asia. He came back to England because the marquess was failing. For a while he was enrolled in the agricultural college, taking courses in land management and rural affairs. So did I. But unlike yours truly, he didn’t complete a degree.

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