The Virtuoso Read Online Free

she’d started her menses that morning, and every month—every useless, benighted month—that occasion filled her with sadness. When she had been married, the sadness made more sense, as it signaled yet another failure to provide Francis his heir.
    She poured the boiling water into her porcelain pot, added the tea strainer, assembled a tea tray that included strawberries, bread, and butter, and took her repast to the back porch. Marmalade had arranged himself on the bottom step, taking advantage of the heat retained in the wood both behind and beneath him. As she sipped her tea, Ellen set her chair to rocking and tried not to set her thoughts to remembering, but the evening was peaceful, beautiful, sweet—and lonely.
    Tonight, Ellen decided, she would wander in the wood, searching for herbs, or perhaps, just searching for a little peace.
    ***
    â€œA bit of work needed,” Darius remarked, glancing around at the overgrown track. The front gate to the Markham estate, with stone griffons rampant on the gate posts and the wrought iron sagging, lent an ominous touch to the entryway.
    â€œA bit,” Val conceded. “But then, if the drive is not navigable, I will have to concern myself less with uninvited company.”
    â€œAre you planning on becoming eccentric?” Darius inquired as he steered his gelding past a pothole. “Or will it just overcome you gradually, like the vines obscuring Sleeping Beauty’s castle?”
    â€œWe’ll have to wait and see. For the present, I rather like all the rhododendrons.”
    Darius peered at the foliage. “They have misplaced their self-restraint.”
    The drive was lined with towering oaks that created a dense canopy of greenery overhead. The understory had been taken over by the rhododendrons, and it being the proper season, they were awash in blooms. In the lengthening shadows, the pink, purple, and white flowers stood out luminously against the dark foliage and shifting dapples of sun.
    Val rode on in silence until the manor house itself stood before him.
    â€œOh dear,” Darius said softly, “and that is an understatement.”
    The house lay north-south in orientation, so the full impact of the westering sun hit the entire façade. The southern wing and the center section were unkempt and dilapidated. Shutters hung crookedly, windows were missing panes, porch bricks had come off and tumbled to the grass.
    The northern wing, however, was a complete shambles. The slate roof was visibly sagging near the soffit in the front corner, three of the chimneys were on their way to becoming piles of mortar, the north-facing porch was listing hard to port, and as Val watched, bats flew out of the missing attic windows.
    â€œWell, come on.” Val swung off his chestnut. “The light won’t last forever, and I’ve a mind to look around.”
    For Val, there was an incongruous sense of pleasure just looking at the place. Last year when he’d been ostensibly looking for property to purchase, he’d needed a key to gain access. This year, any number of broken ground-floor windows afforded the same privilege. Many a boy had obviously tested his aim against mullioned panes without thought to the cost of replacing them. Still, as Val gazed upon the wreck fate had dumped in his lap, he had the thought: She’s waited for me .
    In the mellow evening sunbeams, the house held on to a kind of dignity, despite disrepair, neglect, and abandonment. The native stone blended beautifully with the surrounding wood, while patches of wildflowers splashed color in unlikely spots around the yard. Opportunistic saplings were encroaching, but a liberal use of imagination put the former serenity and appeal of the place within sight.
    â€œThe stables aren’t bad at all,” Darius said as he caught up with Val at the back of the house.
    â€œA silver lining for which the horses will no doubt be grateful.” Val’s gaze