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Chapters (44)
  1. Table of Contents
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Chapter Nine
  14. Chapter Ten
  15. Chapter Eleven
  16. Chapter Twelve
  17. Chapter Thirteen
  18. Chapter Fourteen
  19. Chapter Fifteen
  20. Chapter Sixteen
  21. Chapter Seventeen
  22. Chapter Eighteen
  23. Chapter Nineteen
  24. Chapter Twenty
  25. Chapter Twenty-One
  26. Chapter Twenty-Two
  27. Chapter Twenty-Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-Four
  29. Chapter Twenty-Five
  30. Chapter Twenty-Six
  31. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-One
  36. Chapter Thirty-Two
  37. Chapter Thirty-Three
  38. Chapter Thirty-Four
  39. Chapter Thirty-Five
  40. Chapter Thirty-Six
  41. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  42. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  43. A word about the author...
  44. Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

Hugh rose to his feet. “Remember you are in my house,” he growled through clenched teeth. He grasped the back of the chair, knuckles white against the polished mahogany. “I will not have that man in my house or near to members of this family. If you, sister, choose to speak further with Mr. Muldrow, I must insist you cut short this Christmas holiday. Perhaps you have a friend to whom you may wish to pay a visit.”

Leaving his mother and sister open-mouthed, Hugh stalked from the room, turning at the door to remark, “Obey me, Selena, and you may remain here as long as you wish. I will leave you to decide. Good evening, Mama.”

He glared so fiercely at James, who moved to close the door that the footman stopped dead, allowing Hugh to pull the heavy oak together with a resounding and satisfactory thud.

There was no sign of any other servant nearby. Understanding that discretion was usually wise during moments of family dissent, both James and the butler found employment discreetly downstairs, behind the baize door. Hugh passed unmolested through the house. He needed to be alone. He strode up stairs and along corridors, desperate to relieve today’s riot of feelings with a spell of solitary peace and quiet.

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Once back at the Hall, Philomena fought to stay calm. I won’t think about him. Instead, she planned the evening’s trip to the East Wing. This was her chance. John was tired from a day in the fresh air and happy to play quietly with Alice. No one would notice Philomena’s absence for half an hour. Alice, relieved of full responsibility in the nursery, assured Philomena she could easily manage the boy for an hour or two. She seemed happy to remain in the cosy nursery for a while longer and avoid other, harder duties downstairs.

Philomena took a lamp and checked the wick and the oil level. She had no wish to be plunged into sudden darkness in the east wing. All was well. Casting a final glance at John, playing happily, she slipped out of the nursery and set off along the corridor that traversed the length of the house.

Rows of closed doors, blank and intimidating, lined the passage. Determined to ignore foolish fears so early in the adventure, Philomena tried a handle, curious to see inside the room. The handle turned easily and opened without a sound. There was little to see but outlines of heavy oak furniture shrouded in dustsheets. The room lay silent, with a depressed air of desolation, as though lonely from a lack of visitors.