Chapters (71)
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Part Two
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Part Three
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Part Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Part Five
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
Yesterday he had traveled to Shipley and spent the night in an inn. The owner, Mrs. Craven, had told him to take the lower stretch of moorland, following the wide gravel path. This path would take him to the highest part of Fairley village where there were no houses, only several paths branching off.
“Just stay on the wide path,” Mrs. Craven had warned him. “It gets very misty around those particular moors. Ye don’t want to get lost.” He had noted everything she had told him; others had alerted him about the fog.
It seemed to Blackie that it got chillier as he walked along at a steady pace, and at one moment he put down the sack he was carrying, pulled off his cap and took off his scarf. After tying the scarf around his head, he replaced the cap and turned up the collar of his coat, feeling warmer almost at once.
Within twenty minutes, he found himself in clouds of mist and had to peer ahead to make out where he was. He really couldn’t see anything, but his boots crunching on gravel reassured him he was on the wide path. It was not long after that he realized the crunching sound had stopped. Damn, he thought, I’m off the path. How did that happen? I’m lost!
This thought took hold as he walked on. He wasn’t sure what to do. A moment or two later, his dilemma was solved. Peering ahead, he saw another person farther along the path. Man or woman? He wasn’t sure. He plunged ahead, calling out, “Wait! Please wait! Wait for me.”
Suddenly the mist lifted slightly, and as he rushed forward he realized it was a young woman in a long, worn-out coat, wrapped in shawls and with a scarf around her head.
She had hidden behind an outcropping of rocks, and looked terrified. “Get away!” she yelled. “Ye looks like a monster.”
“I’m not a monster,” he shot back. “Don’t be afeard, little colleen. I’m just a man who’s lost, looking to get to Fairley Hall.”
“Fairley Hall!” she exclaimed, edging out from behind the rocks. “Why do ye want ter go there?” She peered at the man, intrigued now.
Realizing he had caught her interest, and that she sounded less afraid, he moved toward her. “Let me tell ye.”
“Get back!” she shouted. “Don’t move!”
“I’m going ter Fairley Hall ter do some repairs,” Blackie explained, gently now.
“Where did ye meet the Squire?” she asked cautiously, every inch of her alert.