Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
“Thank you.”
“His lordship has always had a fondness for the herd,” she murmurs as she glances out of the window.
Alessia nods. “When I was here last time, we saw one on the road. A great stag. It stopped in front of us.”
“You did! Well, I never.” Danny looks shocked.
“Why is that a surprise?”
“Did Maxim not tell you?”
“No.”
“About the legend?”
Alessia shakes her head.
“Och, that boy,” Danny scoffs. “Legend has it that the first countess, Isabel, encountered a stag out in the forest shortly after her wedding to the first earl. The stag spoke to her and told her that if her family cared for the wild herd, then she would be blessed with a long life and many children. And that’s exactly what happened. The Trevethick estate has long been a haven for the deer. They’re seen as a sign of good luck. That’s why the two stags are the support in the family coat of arms. They symbolize protection for the earldom, the estate, and the family, my lady.”
“I did not know this. They are not…um…hunted?”
Danny shakes her head. “No. Not for centuries. They’re humanely culled every other year to keep their numbers sustainable. And the venison is much coveted around here. Keeps the herd strong, and while the herd stands strong, so will the Trevelyans and the Earls of Trevethick.”
Alessia doesn’t know what to say, but a frisson of hope for the future—a future for her and her husband skitters over her skin. After all, the stag they saw when Maxim took them shooting seemed to be welcoming her. She grins at Danny.
“It’s a good omen, my lady. The Trevelyan family is responsible for the wellbeing of the estate, the village, forests, fields, and pastures surrounding it. Their land extends many thousand acres. And they and their kin have kept it together and thriving since the 1600s. Long may they continue.” Danny’s smile reflects her own. “Now, once you’ve had your coffee, I was wondering if you wanted to see the private apartments and the attic—though that floor is mainly for staff and storage.”
“Yes. I’d love that. Thank you, Danny.” Alessia has cherished the housekeeper’s thorough tours of the house. She’s given Alessia a detailed history of each room that’s open—not all are—and its place within the great house. She’s introduced Alessia to most of the staff, who, so far, have been kind and accommodating. Alessia is increasingly in awe of the woman that keeps the entire house running smoothly. And she feels safe in her hands—after all, it was Danny who cared for her after Dante and Ylli’s kidnap attempt.
And it’s obvious she dotes on Maxim, and he on her. She seems more maternal than his own mother…
Alessia!
She tries not to think uncharitably about Rowena, but sometimes it’s impossible. Perhaps, to make up for her unkind thoughts, she can do something to help repair the fissure between her mother-in-law and her husband.
But what?
“And then there’s the all-important decision of moving his lordship into the earl’s bedroom and you into the countess’s room.” Danny distracts Alessia from her thoughts.
“Countess’s room?”
“Yes. You each have your own apartments here.”
Separate bedrooms! Separate apartments!
“Sometimes it’s good to have a bolt hole, my lady,” Danny says as if reading her thoughts.
Bolt hole? Alessia doesn’t understand what that means and does not like the sound of it or the idea of sleeping elsewhere.
Is this what Maxim wants? To sleep without her?
Like the ancient Gheg custom! The thought depresses her immediately.
“Ach, my lady. It’ll not be like that,” Danny says. “I’ll show you once you’ve had your coffee.”
* * *
Michael and I survey the motors in the old stables—these vintage and classic cars were Kit’s pride and joy. I can almost see him, walking toward me in his filthy overalls, his hands covered in grease and smelling of oil and Swarfega. He’d have his cloth cap on, an oily rag protruding from his pocket, and he’d be so fucking happy.
Well, Spare, fancy a spin in this Ferrari?
He loved it here.
He loved his cars.
Me, not so much. However, I didn’t mind the odd spin around the grounds in one of these beasts.
And now I have to decide what to do with them.
“You’re right, Michael. This building would be a much better place for a still. It’s more secure, closer to the house, there’s room for expansion, and these old stables are in better condition than the north pasture barn.”
“Only problem is the cars.”
“I’m going to have to sell them. I have no need for all of these.”
Michael gives me a rueful smile. I know selling them would have broken Kit’s heart, but he’s not here. “I’ll keep the Morgan, and everything else can go. I’ll ask Caroline if she wants any of them, but I doubt it. Cars were Kit’s passion, not hers.”
“Yes, my lord.”
I head back into the house via the boot room while Michael returns to his office. We’ve had a good morning, and I’m ready for lunch. Michael was extolling the virtues of regenerative farming. Apparently, it’s the next step in green agriculture. I’ve vowed to read up on it, to see what the fuss is about.