Dawn's Promise (Silent Wings #1)

“Did you require Dr Day to come back here?” While Dawn loved the isolated spot, she wondered if it was different for those born and raised here. Did they seek adventure elsewhere, and how did the Seton family keep their extraordinary longevity secret?

Jasper leaned back and let the reins go slack as he turned to her. “No, he has always been free to make his own decisions. Grayson graduated top of his class and with the highest honours. He could have made his fortune in private practice in London, and yet he chose to return here. Something calls him back to Alysblud.”

Dawn might not have any worldly experience, but even she could make a good guess at what kept the handsome doctor in the rural area. “Perhaps one day he will find whatever that is.”

Jasper frowned and opened his mouth when the road up ahead cleared. The horse walked on of its own accord and the curricle jerked. He grabbed the reins and the moment was lost. Jasper pulled the horse to a halt by the village square, not far from where the blacksmith’s hammer rang out on an anvil.

A young boy ran from out the barn doors and took the horse’s reins. “I’ll look after him, Lord Seton.”

“Good lad,” Jasper called as he jumped to the ground and went around the curricle to give Dawn a hand down from the high seat.

“Let’s start with the general store. They should have what you need. While we are here, I have a letter to dispatch to your solicitor, Mr Stevens.” He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow.

Dawn glanced around. Villagers smiled as they passed and then bent their heads together, and twitters of conversation raced around the square.

“You are causing gossip.” Dawn tugged on her hand, but he held it fast.

He leaned closer and whispered by her ear, “Let them talk, and they had better get used to seeing us together. Whatever makes you think I intend to let you go?”

When he said things like that, it made her stomach flip-flop like a fish hauled out of the water. Part of her wanted him to hold onto her, but another tiny part wanted to make her own decisions without the pressure such public displays put on her.

It was a short walk to the general store and the cool embrace of the room within. High ceilings seem to hold an endless procession of rows. Each row was crammed with numerous different products in tins, jars, and packets. The higher shelves were accessed by a narrow wooden ladder on castors.

A long counter with a glass front ran the length of one side. A middle-aged woman in a crisp white apron smiled on seeing Jasper. Her dark hair showed streaks of grey, and a happy life showed in the crinkles at her eyes.

“What can we do for you today, Lord Seton?” she asked, wiping her hands on the apron and lifting a section of the countertop to greet them.

“Ah, Ruth, first I have a most urgent letter for Whetstone.” He drew a slim envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it over.

Ruth took the item and laid it on the counter. “The train is due today, and it will be in Whetstone by tonight.”

So soon, Dawn thought. What, if anything, will Mr Stevens reveal about the failed investment?

“Next, Miss Uxbridge here is in search of seeds and plants for the vegetable garden at Ravenswing. I have engaged her as landscape designer.” He let go of her hand to take the other woman’s hand and kiss the back as though he greeted some great aunt.

Ruth’s dark brown gaze lit up. “Oh, we’ll have plenty to spare among the village gardens. We’d be more than happy to help.”

Jasper leaned in closer to her greying head. “She also plans to turn the greenhouse into an orangery to supply the village with citrus.”

The woman gave a breathy sigh. “Oh what I’d give for an orange. I had one once, many years ago, given to me by my man when we were courting.”

Dawn longed to grow the tropical plants with their juicy fruit. “We could grow oranges, lemons, grapefruit, and limes. Perhaps we could even source a banana palm.”

Ruth frowned. “What’s a banana?”

“A tropical fruit. Well, technically it’s a berry, just a very big berry. Long and narrow with a yellow skin and a creamy flesh.” Dawn mimed the approximate shape and size of a banana with her hands and then mimicked putting it into her mouth to nibble at the top.

The storekeeper’s eyes went wide and she burst into laughter. Even Jasper sucked in his lips to stop from laughing. Dawn closed her mouth and stared at her invisible banana. What had she done that was so funny?

Ruth brought her giggles under control and elbowed Lord Seton. “Well, I don’t know about these bananas, but let’s see what catalogues we have to get you started.”

Dawn frowned. Obviously the shopkeeper didn’t believe bananas were real. Perhaps she needed to find a picture to show her.

Ruth piled a variety of magazines into Jasper’s open arms. Then she insisted on taking Dawn around the village to ask about surplus plants and seeds. The villagers were more generous than Dawn ever imagined. Jasper found himself driving the curricle home with a box of seedlings balanced on his lap. Hector would collect even more later in the week.

“I told you the gig had more room,” Dawn murmured as he told the horse to trot on without losing control of the box. Baby leeks waved from the top and brushed against his chin.

“I will never look at a leek again without thinking of having you alone. Or a banana for that matter.” He waggled his eyebrows and laughter lit his eyes.





19





That night, Dawn settled into bed with the blankets pulled up to her chin and listened to Mouse’s puffs and wheezes as she waited for sleep to catch her. Lettie’s screams no longer kept Dawn awake at night. A twinge of guilt stabbed through her. It seemed wrong to roll over and go to sleep while the other woman screamed in agony. Another part of her was realistic. Fatigue pulled at her limbs and she needed sleep to face another day. There was nothing yet she could do to alleviate her new friend’s distress. Not until she determined how Ava had affected Lettie’s mind.

Tonight, it was no scream that awoke her from a deep slumber, but a loud thump. She sat up, clutching the blankets and trying to place the noise. It was probably just Mouse moving around in his sleep. His large tail could deliver quite a thump. Just as she settled back down, the noise came again. She squinted in the low light. Mouse lay on the rug, but he lifted his head from the rug and pricked his ears toward the front door.

The thump came again, loud and frantic as someone pounded on the cottage door. Dawn pushed the blankets off her body. Something important must have happened for Jasper to rouse her in the middle of the night. Perhaps a raven had returned with the answers to the questions Jasper asked of the Lord Warder guarding Whetstone.

Mouse growled and half rose, his long body low to the floor.

“It will most probably be Hector,” Dawn said as her bare feet touched the cool wooden floor.

Mouse’s growl deepened and his hackles rose. He stalked to the bedroom door and blocked her way. His head was fixated on the front door, where someone continued to pound. Now the unseen visitor rattled the iron door handle, testing if the door would yield.

A chill swept up Dawn’s body. Mouse barely lifted his head when family approached and never growled. So who was trying to gain access to the cottage? The dog’s growl turned into snarls and he blocked Dawn’s path. He refused to budge, and given he weighed as much if not more than Dawn, she was trapped, or secured, in the bedroom.

She was grateful she had thrown the bolt and turned the key in the lock. The solid oak door would endure any banging. The thumping stopped, but Mouse still growled. Before Dawn could sigh in relief, something hit the window.

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