Harlequin Historical December 2021, Box Set 1 of 2 by Louise Allen

Author:Louise Allen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2021-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

Anthony Matthews was not there.

Amy Pritchard took off her gloves and loosened her scarf. Running up the hill from Priestclough village was impossible but she had walked as fast as she could. Nevertheless, the barren, sloping field covered with a sprinkling of December snow was empty. The solitary rowan tree which had been their meeting point for trysts since early summer stood alone in the centre, its lightning-split trunk visible from miles around.

It was hardly surprising. Amy was almost two hours late and the biting Derbyshire winds could chill a man to the bone within a quarter of an hour. She adjusted her hair, put back on her gloves then made her way along the hillside path to Windcross, the house where Anthony was staying with his aunt, Violet Chase.

Ready with a string of apologies and reasons for her lateness, Amy walked through the gates and was hailed by Miss Alberta Gough, Violet Chase’s long-time companion. Miss Gough’s arms were full of holly, which she always fashioned into wreaths.

She peered over the top of the pile at Amy. ‘Miss Pritchard! We didn’t expect to see you today.’

‘I’ve come to speak to Mr Matthews,’ Amy explained.

Miss Gough’s face creased into a frown. She opened the front door and shouted.

‘Violet, Miss Pritchard is here.’

Miss Chase appeared at a stride. She strode everywhere and did everything at the top of her voice. She was a woman in her fifty-seventh year, with steel-grey hair and a habit of dressing in China silks and smoking jackets.

‘Good morning, Miss Pritchard. Your father hasn’t yet accepted my invitation to the Christmas afternoon carols and mulled wine. Have you been sent on his behalf?’

The carol singing took place around an open bonfire in the grounds of Windcross on Christmas afternoon, lasting until dark, with mulled drinks and hot mince pies served. It was the highlight of what little social life Priestclough and the surrounding houses could offer.

‘I am sure my father will gladly accept. However, that’s not why I’m here,’ Amy said. ‘I was supposed to be meeting Mr Matthews at eleven, but my father insisted I transcribe some of the verses he wrote in the middle of last night, and his handwriting was dreadful. It took me far longer than I expected.’

‘When the muse visits she does not care for the legibility of her inspiration,’ Miss Chase said, shaking her head sympathetically. ‘Your father should employ a secretary and not expect you to work all the hours in the twenty-four.’

She turned to Miss Gough who was hovering nearby, looking anxious. ‘Berty, dear, will you go ask Cook to boil the kettle for tea?’

She turned back to Amy. ‘My nephew left for Buxton at half past nine this morning in order to catch the eleven o’clock stage coach to Manchester.’

Amy’s stomach plummeted. ‘He was supposed to be staying until the twenty-second. Did he say why, or when he will be returning?’

Miss Chase pursed her lips. ‘He said he does not plan to return for the foreseeable future.

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