Imprisoned at Werewolf Keep (Werewolf Keep Trilogy) Read Online Free Page A

secret Phil was hiding that was eating her up alive.
    Whatever the reason for her reluctance, Fidelia was determined to find out what trouble Phil was in, and help her overcome it if she could. She'd been doing just that for years, and it made her feel good to focus on someone else’s problems rather than her own. Phil called Fidelia her guardian angel but, in fact, it was the other way around. All Fidelia had been trying to do all these years was find a way to pay her friend back for her loyalty and protection during those early school days.
    Phil still didn’t know the extent of Fidelia’s helping h and. That is was she who had convinced her parents to make a scholarship available at the Chelsea Ladies Academy that had allowed the newly impoverished Phil to continue her education after her father’s death. And that much of the popularity of Mrs Davenport’s lacework was due to Fidelia’s mother’s influence amongst the Ton. Because of that popularity, Philomena’s mother had been able to earn a sufficient amount to keep a roof over her head. It had not been enough, not nearly enough, as far as Fidelia was concerned. But Mrs Davenport had been fiercely opposed to charity and was suspicious of any money that came her way serendipitously. It had taken very convoluted routes to get her to accept even those few scraps to support herself and her daughter.
    It still angered Fi delia to know that Phil could have lived a better life, if not for her mother’s pride and her father’s unwillingness to support his family. Even now, knowing Captain Davenport had not died in the Crimea, as reported, but had gone on to live a wealthy life, was incredibly galling to Fidelia. How could a man perpetrate such deception on those who loved him most?
    So, if no one else had been willing to put Phil’s welfare first, she had. It was only what her brave and stalwart friend deserved, after all.
    Of course, there had also been a much more pressing matter that drew her here at this time. One she didn’t allow herself to focus on. It turned her blood to ice just thinking about it.
    As the horses came to a halt outside the ancient castle, Fidelia's first impressions of Breckenhill Keep were not favourable. The place was little more than a pile of stones hastily mortared back together after time and war had knocked them down. Although Phil told her the place was no architectural masterpiece, she hadn't fully detailed the shambles it was in.
    Once there had been a full castle wall that surrounded the Keep. What was left of that wall was still visible lower down the moorside. The Keep itself still stood, Norman in design – square, solid and towering. The castellated battlements had long since fallen away or been rounded off by time, but the slits of windows higher up the tower were still visible. It must have been a daunting structure in its day.
    On e ither side of the central tower, generations of lords had made additions – a hodgepodge of styles that bore little similarity to each other except for the material used for the construction. The rough grey stones that littered the moors made perfect building material for such additions.
    If she found her late husband's home dower and forbidding, this Keep was that and more. She couldn't imagine bright and spirited Philomena living in such austere surroundings.
    ‘Not exactly what I was expecting,’ she commented to Maude , her maid and companion.
    The little old woman joined her for a moment at the window and shuddered. ‘No madam, not what you expected at all. It looks like nobody lives here. Could we have got it wrong? Maybe this isn’t Breckenhill Keep.’
    ‘Unfortunately , there can be no mistake. The coachman is local. He knew of the place the moment I told him where I wanted to go.’
    ‘Yes , madam,’ Maude whispered uncertainly, sitting back to await the cessation of movement that would announce their arrival.
    Someone mus t have heard their approach because the front door, a