Bell of Eternity by Martina Boone

Author:Martina Boone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cornwall legends myths, aristocrat romance, cornish contemporary romance, cornwall international love story, sweet clean wholesome romance, womens fiction romance single women
Publisher: Mayfair Publishing

White Fingers

“Gradually white fingers creep

through the curtains,

and they appear to tremble.”

Oscar Wilde

The Picture of Dorian Gray

With the water taxi available for the guests again, the dinner service was light and over quickly. The family ate on the terrace on the far end of the castle overlooking the sea and the headland, where the ruins of the old abbey were outlined by the descending sun. After dinner, they lingered over coffee while the boys and the dog ran off to chase each other with sticks, the way that small boys and large dogs were meant to do.

Emma smiled, watching them, grateful for something to steal her attention from the others. Seated across from Treave with Janet kitty-corner, she’d felt prickly and too exposed through the meal. They’d both watched her too carefully, casting assessing glances at her and Brando from beneath their brows until she’d found herself chatting too brightly. Even now, she babbled in response to Kenver’s effusive gratitude for all her help.

“I loved every minute of it—honestly, I should be thanking you. Getting to see Brando orchestrate the kitchen is fantastic practice, and I already feel a thousand-times more eager to start my own business.”

“All you’re missing is confidence and,” Brando said, cutting into a financier and raising it on his fork, “you should have bushel-loads of that. I’ve eaten financiers in Paris that weren’t half this good.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d been to Paris,” Janet said dourly, casting another glum assessment over the remains of the crab and leek terrine, the salad of pear and Cornish blue cheese, and the confit of pork belly with braised cabbage and black pudding bon bons. “London and Paris and who knows where learning to cook like this, but it took you ten years to come to Cornwall.”

“Which was only because I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome, not because I’ve anything against Cornwall.” Brando sighed. “Look, what Emma and I have done is try to show you it’s possible for you to serve food that pays homage to the area without being the same thing you’d find in every second pub. As it is, you’re giving your dinners away, and wasting time and energy only doing them for the overnight guests.” He waved his arm over at the ruins of the abbey and the tower, at the sunset that was just beginning to lend color to the low-flying clouds. “In a setting like this, with this kind of a meal, you could charge £40.00 a plate and sell out the dinner service every night. A proper dinner service would bring in overnight guests as well—and let you charge more for the rooms.”

“To guests who’ll expect the moon. No, thank you,” Janet said.

“It would mean more business, which means more income for the village—and maybe some in Mowzel as well,” Kenver said hastily, eyeing Janet’s dark expression. “And I can’t remember when I’ve had better food.”

Treave pushed his chair back, the wrought iron sparking against the flagstones. Coming around to Emma’s side of the table, he stopped beside her and offered his hand.

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