Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Havisham approaches me. “Miss?”
“Thank you. I’ll have the black tea.”
He pours tea into a china cup with a less detailed etching of the landscape from the teapot. “Milk or sugar?”
“No, thank you.”
Havisham hands the cup to me on a saucer, along with a plate that contains a scone and a small sandwich.
“What is this?” I ask.
“A cream scone and a cucumber sandwich with a bit of watercress.”
“Thank you. I’m sure it will be delicious.”
“Ma’am?” Havisham says to Maddie.
“I think I’ll try the herbal. Thank you.”
The rest of our party chooses the black tea, and when Havisham is done serving, he bows and exits, leaving the trolley.
Ennis takes a bite of his scone, chews, and swallows. “I know you Yanks probably had a large lunch, so I didn’t have Havisham prepare a full tea.”
“What is a full tea?” Maddie asks.
“A very good question, lovely lady. A full afternoon tea consists of cucumber sandwiches, of course, scones with clotted cream, but also something hot and savory, such as a mini quiche, and something sweet, perhaps a cupcake or tart.”
“That sounds great,” Maddie gushes.
“I would love for you to join me here tomorrow for afternoon tea.”
“That’s kind of you,” I say. “Can we, Donny? What’s on our schedule tomorrow?”
“More sightseeing. The first concert isn’t until the day after.”
“Then it’s settled,” Ennis says. “Tea tomorrow here at my house. I promise you a better tea than you’ll get anywhere else in London. Be sure to bring the rest of your companions if they’re available.”
“That sounds exciting, doesn’t it, Brianna?” Maddie says.
“Sure, Maddie.” I give her a weak smile.
As much as I’m trying not to think about Jesse, he keeps creeping into my head. How can’t he? His sister is right next to me.
It’s slowly driving me insane.
We finish our tea, and Brock stands. “Ennis, I need to speak with you in private, if I may.”
“Yes, of course.”
The two of them leave us in the living room with the tea service. Havisham returns and cleans it up.
I look at Donny as a brick hits my gut. Brock is telling Ennis about Patty Watson, who was my grandmother’s best friend in college and Ennis’s girlfriend, until she disappeared. Donny and Brock found some of her bones on our property, and then Uncle Ryan’s birth mother, Wendy Madigan, admitted to being behind the deaths of both Patty Watson and Brendan Murphy’s great-uncle, the original Sean Murphy, who was my grandfather’s best friend.
That woman was evil.
I can’t even imagine what Ennis is going through. She was his one and only love, according to Brock and Rory, who visited him several weeks ago.
“That poor old guy,” Maddie says.
“I can’t believe he never got married,” I say.
“Sometimes you only find it once,” Maddie says. “It’s sad.”
“I think there probably could’ve been someone else for him,” Donny offers. “He just poured himself into making Steel Vineyards the best boutique winery ever and then training Uncle Ryan to take over. That was his life. He certainly doesn’t seem any worse for the wear.”
“No. He does seem happy.” Maddie looks around the room. “This is a beautiful home, after all. And I’m sure your family gave him an excellent retirement package.”
“Oh, we did,” Donny says. “According to Uncle Ryan.”
About twenty minutes later, Brock returns with Ennis. Ennis looks okay. His eyes are a little glassy, but he’s all right.
“I suppose you all know where we’ve been,” he says.
“We do, Ennis,” Donny says. “We just thought it would be best for you to hear it from Brock, someone you’ve met before.”
“You forget. I’ve met all of you before.” He turns to Maddie. “Except you, my dear.”
“True,” Donny says, “but we were just kids.”
Ennis clears his throat. “Thank you for telling me everything. It’s what I suspected, but it’s good to finally have closure after all these years.”
“May I ask you a question?” I say.
“Of course, my dear.”
I draw a breath. “Why didn’t you ever marry, Ennis? I’ve seen pictures of you. You were a handsome young man. You still are.”
It’s not even a lie. Even in his eighties, Ennis Ainsley is still brightly blue-eyed with a sculpted jawline.
“Bree…” Donny begins.
Ennis holds up a hand. “No, it’s all right. It’s a valid question, and I’ve had to answer it many times over the years. I don’t mind answering it again.”
Ennis takes a seat next to me, and he pats my hand. “I think I could’ve found love again if I’d tried. I was young—dashing, as we say over here. And I happened to walk into the cushy job of assistant winemaker at your brand-new winery. Your family is very generous, as you know, so I made very good money, and I lived on the ranch. But…” His gaze darkens, and he tips his chin down. “Life got difficult during those years. Your grandfather got into some dealings he probably shouldn’t have, and your dear grandmother… Well, I watched her spiral downward. None of us knew, at the time, what was wrong. How ill she truly was. She was my last link to Patty, so I watched over her.”