Shadows at Stonewylde Read Online Free

extraordinary. Most people never find that complete harmony.’
    ‘I know, but remember – Yul has a mistress too.’
    Miranda’s mouth dropped open.
    ‘No, Mum, don’t be silly! I meant Stonewylde – I must share my husband with her! Stonewylde is his life, just as much as I or the girls are. I can’t compete with her and she’s far more demanding than all of us put together. I get what’s left of Yul when she’s had her fill of his time and energy.’
    ‘Well maybe you should be more demanding, Sylvie. Where is he? I’ll go now as I’m sure he’ll be up any minute, won’t he? Try and get him to ease off a bit and spend more time with his family. And Rufus too please, if possible. He’s never had a father and he thinks the world of Yul.’ She stood up and bent to kiss her daughter. ‘You tell him, Sylvie. Not just for Rufus but for you and the girls too. He’s neglecting you and it’s just not necessary – there are plenty of others around to help run the community and he doesn’t have to take it on single-handed. I don’t like to see you all alone up here in the evening.’
    When Miranda had gone, Sylvie left the lamp on just in case Yul did come up, and made her way to bed. It was chilly, and as she slid between the fine linen sheets she shivered with longing. She imagined him yawning, stretching his long limbs, running his hands through his dark curls and giving her that special smile that made her melt inside. He’d hold her in his arms, warming her with his vitality and passion, kissing her hard, brushing her hair from her face, murmuring his love for her … Sylvie sighed. It wasn’t going to happen. He’d have made the bed up in the office, as he often did when he worked late. She wouldn’t see him until he joined them for breakfast, with the girls jumping all over him and the day’s demands already jostling for his attention.
    She turned the bedside light off and lay there alone, gazing out at the moon. It was just visible through the latticed panes, at its zenith now, a small shiny disc. Sylvie suddenly felt unutterably sad. She shut her eyes against the silver reminder of youthful passion and the hot tears that had welled up behind her lids.
    In the study downstairs Yul looked up from the papers spread about him on the old leather-topped desk and rubbed the back of his aching neck. He hadn’t experienced Sylvie’s qualms about using his father’s things at all; in fact he took delight in doing so. He tapped some figures into the computer and printed out a couple more sheets. The illiterate Village boy had gone forever, all traces of him obliterated in this confident, articulate man of the world. At almost twenty-nine, Yul was in his prime and had exceeded his earlier promise. He was as tall and well-muscled as his father had been, fit and powerful. His chiselled face had lost all boyishness and was a study of fine, classical bones and strong planes. Yet the slanted, deep grey eyes still smouldered beneath a tousle of wild black curls.
    Yul nodded as he scanned the sheets of paper; Harold had come up with yet another idea for the company and Yul was sure he was onto something promising. Stonewylde toiletries – rosemary soap, lilac bath oil, watercress face wash – a range of pure and organic products attractively presented in tiny hand-woven wicker baskets. It wasn’t an original idea, but, as ever, Harold had done his research and found there was a huge market for luxury, home-grown toiletries. Harold had such a talent for sniffing out opportunities and Yul had learned that going with his ideas invariably paid off.
    Harold had even located an under-used barn near the Village which could be easily converted into a cottage-style factory to produce the soaps and oils. All Yul needed to do was give him the go-ahead and Harold would set the wheels in motion, organising prototypes and preparing finely-adjusted costings. Best of all, it was women’s work – not taking any labour away