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Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. RITA BRADSHAW
  3. Acknowledgements
  4. Prologue
  5. PART ONE
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. PART TWO
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. Chapter Ten
  17. Chapter Eleven
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. PART THREE
  23. Chapter Sixteen
  24. Chapter Seventeen
  25. Chapter Eighteen
  26. Chapter Nineteen
  27. Chapter Twenty
  28. Chapter Twenty-One
  29. PART FOUR
  30. Chapter Twenty-Two
  31. Chapter Twenty-Three
  32. Chapter Twenty-Four
  33. Chapter Twenty-Five
  34. PART FIVE
  35. Chapter Twenty-Six
  36. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  37. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  38. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  39. PART SIX
  40. Chapter Thirty
  41. Chapter Thirty-One
  42. Chapter Thirty-Two
  43. Chapter Thirty-Three
  44. Chapter Thirty-Four
  45. Epilogue
  46. Dancing in the Moonlight
  47. Beyond the Veil of Tears
  48. The Colours of Love
  49. Snowflakes in the Wind
  50. A Winter Love Song
  51. Beneath a Frosty Moon
  52. One Snowy Night
  53. The Storm Child
  54. The People’s Friend
  55. The Winter Rose
  56. By Rita Bradshaw

It wasn’t the first time she had spoken in this way and he was aware of the veiled threat behind the words. It didn’t bother him. If he left and she did away with herself that was up to her. He had known for weeks that the allure of her body was waning and he was tired of her demands. If she did but know it she had lasted longer than any of his other women, mainly because living at the inn with all the benefits it afforded had appealed to him for a while. He’d found he liked the freedom of a life on the road but it wasn’t always easy or comfortable.

Mind you, he thought, as he grew hard beneath her ministrations, he might as well make the most of tonight, for who knew how soon he’d next find such an obliging companion between the sheets. Maria allowed him to do anything to her. He’d take advantage of that one last time. She was nothing but a whore at heart, they all were, these women who fell into his lap like ripe plums. Only Rose was different.

Once he’d had time to think rationally after he had disposed of the youth at the mill, he’d come to the conclusion that the lad had been talking rubbish, probably because of sexual frustration. He didn’t believe his Rose had been the miller’s mistress. She was pure, clean. All right, she’d been married, but that was because Davey had rushed her into it before she’d had time to think. She’d been little more than a child and Davey had taken advantage of that. It had all become clear the more he had thought about it. Rose had done her duty as a wife, Betsy was living proof of that, but she was still unawakened sexually and in that sense virginal, even chaste. It would be him who brought her to life, who taught her about the delights of the flesh. They were meant to be together and Rose knew that deep down. But for Vera O’Leary frightening her by threatening to take Betsy, she would have been his years ago. Somewhere she was waiting for him, expecting him to find her. He even heard her calling him at times. He didn’t know what had gone on at the mill but Rose wouldn’t have let another man handle her and he felt the miller’s supposed accident was tied up with that.