Garden of Shadows (Dark Gardens Series Book 1) by Meara Platt

Author:Meara Platt [Platt, Meara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2016-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

The sun peeked gold above the horizon to signal daybreak as the foursome made their way down the mountain toward the Ashness Inn. Julia rode with Homer, while Charlie was safely tucked in Lord Eastbourne’s arms, the weight of his frail body easily handled by Lord Eastbourne’s enormous black stallion.

Julia’s thoughts were in turmoil.

Though her heart ached, she was glad to leave the vicarage and Borrowdale. The once quiet district of friendly neighbors, crystal lakes, and rolling hills was no longer a place of joy. Indeed, to remain here would be to place a death sentence on Charlie and she would sooner sacrifice her own life than ever see him hurt.

She blinked her eyes against the falling snow and felt the winter’s harsh bite against her cheeks, more signs that mischief was about, for the sun was rising and the sky was turning a gentle blue. These were signs of a clear, late fall day and yet they were riding in the midst of a blizzard. It seemed as though the faerie king was indeed powerful enough to control the forces of nature. If so, how would they ever defeat him?

As the cold and snow persisted, she continued to worry about Charlie. Was he warm enough? Was his breathing steady?

Lord Eastbourne must have sensed her concern, for he held back his mount so that Homer’s slower horse could catch up. “All will be well, Julia. You needn’t fret.”

She wanted to believe him, but something deep within her knew the nightmare was not at an end. He didn’t believe it either, for he was frowning and he wouldn’t be doing that if he really expected the trouble had passed. Still, if there was another battle to be fought, she was glad to have him by her side.

They continued down the mountain. Julia studied every step of their trail and silently bid farewell to the familiar plants and birds, to the gentle brook at the foot of the forest, even to the majestic raven circling Friar’s Crag and shattering the early morning silence with its loud caws.

“Won’t miss that fellow,” Homer muttered, glancing up at the sky as it unleashed more snow to hinder their journey.

“Nor I,” Lord Eastbourne said, studying the raven as it disappeared into the heavy mist surrounding the crag.

Conversation soon turned to the hearty breakfast Lord Eastbourne intended to order for all of them once they reached the inn. As they rode into the courtyard, the innkeeper’s wife bustled out to greet them. “My goodness gracious, Julia! Charlie! You’re an early lot. Why, I’ve just put on the kettle. None of the other guests are awake yet. Aren’t we having the oddest weather? Glad you made it safely here.”

With much fuss and clamor, Mrs. Stevenson settled them in the common room, a cozy hall with dark wood tables and matching wooden benches. One of the servants promptly lit a fire in the enormous hearth and then took their cloaks to dry. As promised, Lord Eastbourne ordered a

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