The Scarlet Wench Read Online Free Page B

she’d acknowledged before he’d died. His handsomeness had matched an intelligence she’d admired, but his obsessive work ethic had left her cold. She was as conscientious as the next person, but even when they’d managed time together, she’d felt his mind wandering, his intensity elsewhere. Their so-called engagement hadn’t merited a ring, and he’d resisted taking her to Cornwall to meet his parents. At times she had felt there was some mystery surrounding them he hadn’t shared, but Paul had said they were country folk and blamed his work commitments. He’d insisted he’d get around to introducing them at some point.
    She’d missed out on so much, she thought, a brief hormonal wave hitting her and making her tear up. He’d had the bad grace to go off on a business trip for the Ministry of Defense and die in a plane crash before she could formally break their engagement, she thought unreasonably, then shook herself. Paul had found a way to haunt her thoughts forever. She’d found out three weeks after his memorial service that she was pregnant.
      She roused herself from her daydream and scrutinized the baby that was Paul’s legacy. His small head tilted to one side, his breathing regular. She checked her watch. She’d been here longer than anticipated, dwelling in the past. Simon would be on his way to the lodge, and she needed to get Sean back for his lunch and to help with the check-ins of the new arrivals.
      The steep downhill walk back would let her work up a good sweat after a stop at the post office. She left the church and paused outside on the path as she heard the crying once again. Walking nearer the graveyard, she came to an abrupt stop.
      Centuries-old yew trees stood there. Underneath one, an elderly man lay stretched out across its roots on his stomach. Nora set the buggy brake and was about to run and help him when she realized the keening sounds were cries of grief. She stopped herself from flying to his side.
      The man’s cries echoed in the churchyard; his hands clawed into the dirt. The noise fell away to a pitiful moaning. Obviously he thought his outpouring had been conducted in private. Nora turned silently away and passed through the gate to the street before the man could see she’d been a witness to his despair.

Chapter Three

    “As you talk of her she sounds enchanting.”
    Ruth: Act I , Scene 1

    11:45 AM

    Simon Ramsey opened the Volvo door and turned sideways in the seat to stretch his long legs outside. The train from Carlisle via Oxenholme was late; what else was new with British Rail? His mobile beeped a message, and he read that the electrician had finished the upgrades needed for the hot stage lights. With luck, this might be the first of many productions held at Ramsey Lodge.
      He might as well use this brief respite to do something useful. He checked the Notes app and scrolled down the list of ideas he’d made for Nora’s illustrations after reading her story text. He’d completed the cover and several other specific pages they’d agreed on featuring the church, but he still needed an image for the ferry ride from Sawrey.
      His fingers itched to get back to work. The Oxford gallery that showed his landscapes had been on to him for a while about a fresh round, and he would start those after he finished Nora’s book. More income for the flagging coffers, he rued.
      Simon knew Nora would keep his confidence about the state of his financial affairs and he was trying hard not to dwell on it. Even though he’d agreed to share in the prop rental, the nice fee they’d receive for hosting Grayson Lange’s Traveling Theatre Troupe would more than balance that out. His take of the tickets made up for closing their weekend dinner service to the public with a little left over. If sales continued to be brisk, it would all be profit for the lodge. Plus, the marketing and free publicity at someone else’s expense would draw attention to them and drive in new