A Winter's Tale by Trisha Ashley

Author:Trisha Ashley [Trisha Ashley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2008-06-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen: Friendly Relations

My poor husband is no more. Last night he could not get his breath and though I tried everything in my power, he left this life at midnight. At the last, to ease his passing, I whispered to him my good news and he squeezed my hand and smiled.

From the journal of Alys Blezzard, 1581

When I got home I didn’t feel sleepy any more—too full of confused emotions and edgy irritation. So, with reckless extravagance, I rang Lucy from the telephone extension in my room, which made me feel terribly guilty, even if settling the phone bills was now entirely my responsibility. I didn’t stop to calculate the time difference between Winter’s End and Japan either (which I usually get wrong anyway), but luckily she picked up.

‘Lucy, I wish you were here. Can’t you come home?’

‘Maybe…’ she said, showing slight signs of weakening for the very first time, ‘though I’d have to pay for my own ticket if I left before the end of my contract.’

‘I can find the money for that, somehow. I really do need you here to help me.’

‘That’s true—goodness knows what you’ve been doing without me to keep an eye on you!’

‘Nothing really, except getting organised for Operation Save Winter’s End,’ I said, and updated her on the meeting and how my plans had gone down.

She gave gracious approval. ‘But don’t totally alienate that gardener. He’s free, for one thing; and for another, he’s sort of family.’

‘Only by marriage to your great-aunt Ottie…or is that great-great?’

‘Whatever. Seth sounds interesting, though, and you still need him to sort out the bottom terrace, don’t you?’

‘I suppose so,’ I conceded. ‘And he did sort of apologise later…or at least, I think it was meant as an apology—he quoted Shakespeare at me, then helped me take down the parlour curtains. Tomorrow we’ll both have to be polite, because apparently all the family, including Seth, gathers round the table for the Sunday roast. Considering Ottie and Hebe are barely on speaking terms, that must be a riot.’

‘Why aren’t they speaking?’

‘It’s to do with Alys Blezzard’s book.’ I had lowered my voice despite the several inches of solid oak between any eavesdropper and me.

‘Our witchy ancestor? How can they fall out over a book? Anyway, you’ve got it.’

‘Yes, but Hebe’s read it and remembered enough of what Alys said in the foreword to blab to Jack, and now he seems to think there’s a hidden treasure at Winter’s End!’

‘And is there?’ she asked, interested. ‘I thought that bit in the flyleaf was about the recipes, especially the rose ones?’

I had brought Lucy up to know about Alys, as my mother had done with me, making the book an exciting secret between us. I suppose, through the centuries, that was always how it was…

‘Reputedly there are at least three treasures hidden at Winter’s End, including a Saxon hoard somewhere in the grounds. But all old houses have these stories, and generations of Winters have probably sifted every inch—when they weren’t busy rebuilding, panelling or stuccoing.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.