A Beautiful Love by Megan Walker

Author:Megan Walker [Walker, Megan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Love Letter Press
Published: 2019-03-20T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

T he traps were empty the next morning and the next, much to the dismay of Preston and Mr. Hubert. So on their third night of trapping, the gamekeeper tried a simple net trap near the pond. Instead of the predator, they caught Lucifer.

“Forgive me, old friend.” Hubert laughed as he cut the rope, freeing the hissing goose. “You are not who we are looking for.”

“What else can we do?” Preston was teetering on the line between frustration and anger. He knew neither Mr. Hubert nor the gamekeeper was inept. What were they doing wrong?

“It’s been three nights without a sign, Mr. Blake. Perhaps we scared the thing off for good.” Mr. Hubert wrapped the rope from the trap around the length of his arm and shoulder.

“What if we didn’t?” Anger was winning.

“Whatever it is cannot be too great a threat. Nothing is dead, and quite frankly, a lack of tracks is not necessarily a bad sign.” Mr. Hubert bowed. “If the Averys need anything further, I am sure they will direct me.”

Preston raked a hand through his hair. There was nothing further he could do.

He’d made another promise to Caroline he couldn’t keep.

Not that they were on speaking terms anyway. Since dinner three nights ago, she’d appeared for every meal, but vanished directly after, leaving him no time to speak with her alone.

What would he say, anyway? I am sorry for disappointing you again. I’m sorry I cannot be the man you wish me to be. I want to go back to before, but I cannot.

His days at the pond and the evening spent checking on the traps had eased his mind in the sense that he could at least soothe Caroline’s heart in another way.

But he could not argue with Hubert. Romeo and his family were happy. And alive.

Instead of his usual day out of doors, Preston retreated into the house alone, stressed and uneasy. Mother’s voice, mixed with Mrs. Avery’s, carried from the drawing room, so he continued walking. The library down the hall would suffice for a temporary hideaway. He needed a moment to breathe.

Curtains were drawn open at full scale, setting the room ablaze with sunlight. Preston nodded to a maid dusting the shelves and, after retrieving a book on horticulture—every man’s estate needed to look its best, after all— he fell into a chair and tried to relax.

But the sun was too bright. His book was shadowed, and his eyes were pained from the piercing light in his peripheral vision. He closed his eyes and laid his head back. The insides of his eyelids were painted red from the sun, and Preston instinctively thought of fire.

A woman screamed.

Preston jumped up. The sound reverberated in the room, coming from the corner of the library. The maid.

A loud crash sounded, followed by a boom that silenced the screaming. The room moved in circles in Preston’s mind and transformed into a house. A small house with one room.

It was happening all over again. Smoke filled Preston’s nostrils, drying his throat into a desert.

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