noting, as he did, that the youngster’s narrow face was pinched with cold and drained of all colour. My fault, he chided himself, regretting even more than ever his thoughtlessness of earlier that morning.
‘Thank you, Ned,’ Richard murmured, staring up into Edward’s face through his steady, slate-grey eyes. His eldest brother was six feet four, broad of chest, very strong and athletic. His brilliant eyes were as blue as the speedwells that grew in the summer meadows, and his thick hair was a stunning burnished red-gold. To Richard, and every woman who met him, Edward Deravenel was the handsomest man alive, with a warm, outgoing and endearing personality. He was affable, inordinately friendly, and blessed with a beguiling natural charm that captivated everyone. Richard loved him more than anyone else in the family, was completely devoted to him, and he would be all of Edward’s life.
‘Inside the house as fast as you can,’ Edward cried, giving Richard an affectionate push towards the side door, which led to the mud room. ‘And you, too, George, my lad. No dawdling around this morning.’
The two boys did his bidding, and as Edward followed them at a quick pace he called out to one of the stable lads, ‘The horses have been ridden hard this morning, Ernie. They need your very best rub-down, and put the heavy wool blankets on them before you give them water and feed.’
‘Aye, Master Edward,’ Ernie shouted back, glancing at him. He and the other stable lad took the reins of the three horses and led them across the yard in the direction of the stables and the sheltered stalls where the tack room was also located.
Once Edward and his brothers entered the mud room they felt the warmth of the house surrounding them. Shedding their black-and-white checked caps and thick woollen Inverness capes and hanging them up, they scraped their riding boots free of dirt. A moment later they all went down the corridor at the back of the house, heading toward the Long Hall at its centre.
‘I shall ask Cook to make us a small snack and hot tea,’ Edward informed them, an arm on each of their shoulders. ‘Perhaps she’ll be able to rustle up some of those delicious Cornish pasties of hers.’
‘Oooh, I hope so,’ George exclaimed, and added, ‘And sausage rolls as well. I’m very hungry.’
‘And what about you?’ Edward asked, glancing down at Richard. ‘Aren’t you ravenous?’
‘I will enjoy the hot tea,’ Richard answered, smiling up at his brother. ‘But I’m not really very hungry, Ned.’
‘We’ll see about that when you smell some of Cook’s tidbits. You know how they make your mouth water,’ Edward said and shepherded his brothers into the Morning Room.
The boys raced over to the huge fire roaring in the grate, stood warming their hands, glad at last to be thawing out. After doing exactly the same thing, Edward swung around and went back to the door. ‘I’m going to have a word with Cook. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’ Closing the door behind him, he left them to their own devices.
Mrs Latham, the cook at Ravenscar, glanced up expectantly when the door to her kitchen opened. Instantly her mouth broke into smiles. ‘Why, good mornin’, Master Edward!’ Her surprise and pleasure were evident.
‘Hello, Mrs Latham,’ he responded in his usual polite manner, giving her one of his most beguiling smiles. ‘I’ve come to beg a small favour. I know how busy you are on Tuesdays, but would it be possible for you to make a large pot of tea and something to eat for us? The boys are famished after their ride on the cliffs.’
‘By gum, I bet they are!’ She wiped her big, capable hands on a tea towel and strode across to the long oak table standing in the middle of the huge kitchen. ‘I’ve just been baking a few things—’ She broke off, waved a hand in front of her morning’s work and added, ‘Pork pies, fishcakes, Cornish pasties, sausage rolls and savoury tarts. Take a look, and take your pick, Master Edward.’
‘How splendid,’ he said, grinning at her. ‘A veritable feast, Cook. But then you’re the best in the world. No one has your remarkable skill in the kitchen, no one.’
‘Oh, get along with yer, sir. It’s a real flatterer yer are.’ This was said with a hint of pride at his compliment. Straightening her back, she added, ‘I knows yer all like the Cornish pasties, and Master George is ever so fond of my sausage rolls. I’ll get a tray ready for yer, sir, and send young Polly with it in a tick, once I’ve made the pot of tea. Does that suit, Master Edward?’
‘It does indeed, Cook. I can’t wait to sample some of this fare, it smells delicious. Thank you so much, I do appreciate it.’
‘My pleasure,’ she called after him, watching him walk over to the door.
Swinging his head, he grinned at her, waved and was gone.
Mrs Latham stared at the door for a moment, her eyes filled with admiration for him. Edward Deravenel was blessed with the most pleasant nature as well as those staggering good looks. She couldn’t help wondering how many hearts he would break in his lifetime. Scores, no doubt. At eighteen he already had women falling at his feet. Spoil him, that they will, she thought, clucking to herself, turning to the ovens. Aye, they’ll all spoil him rotten, give him whatever he wants, and that’s not always a good thing for a man. No, it’s not. I’ve seen many a toff like him ruined by women, more’s the pity.
She swung around as the door opened again and muttered, ‘There yer are, young Polly. I was just wondering where yer’d got to—’ Cook broke off and clucked again. ‘Bump in ter Master Edward, did yer, lass?’
The parlour maid nodded and blushed. ‘He’s ever so nice ter me, Cook.’
Mrs Latham shook her head and sighed, but made no further reference to Edward. Instead she continued, ‘Set a large tray, please Polly. I’m preparing a mornin’ snack for Master Edward and his brothers. When it’s ready yer can take it ter the Morning Room.’
‘Yes, Cook.’
After crossing the Long Hall, Edward made his way back to the Morning Room where he had left his brothers. He was lost in thought, contemplating his return to university. Today was Tuesday, January the fifth; in two days he would travel to London and go up to Oxford that weekend. He was looking forward to returning and especially pleased that he would be reunited with his best friend and boon companion of many years, Will Hasling, who was also an undergraduate.
His attention suddenly became focused on the end of the corridor. He had just caught a fleeting glimpse of a dark skirt and jacket, a froth of white at the neck, a well-coiffed blonde head. And then there had been the click of a door closing.
He hurried forward, passing the Morning Room, not stopping until he reached the last room at the end of the corridor. Pausing at the door which had just closed, he listened intently. There were no voices, only the sound of someone moving around, the rustle of papers. Tapping lightly on the door, he did not wait to be summoned inside. He simply walked in.
The woman in the room stared at him, obviously startled.
Edward closed the door, leaned against it. ‘Hello, Alice.’
The woman took a deep breath, then exhaled. After a moment
