The Lady and the Lake (5 page)

‘There
is
someone
I
truly
love
with
all
my
heart.’
Here
she
stopped
and
I
felt
to
press
her
further
would
be
folly
for
she
suddenly
seemed
back
in
her
own
little
world.

I
thanked
her
for
the
tea
and
as
I
went
to
leave
turned
back
to
her
an
intriguing
question
hovering
on
my
lips.

‘Why
does
Mrs
Kershaw
wear
a
veil
over
her
face?’
I
asked.

‘Some
accident
in
the
past
causes
her
to
hide
her
scars
from
the
world,’
Alice
replied
vaguely
and
I
realised
that
to
ask
her
anything
else
today
would
be
futile.

***

It
took
me
some
time
to
find
my
way
to
the
lower
floor
and
locate
the
servants’
entrance,
but
a
kindly
young
maid
in
a
white
mop
cap
named
Maggie
showed
me
the
way
out.
As
I
stepped
outside
once
more
I
knew
I
was
at
the
far
side
of
the
house
for
I
could
see
the
tower
at
the
opposite
end.

Slowly
I
walked
to
the
back
of
the
building
savouring
the
warmth
of
the
sun.
Reaching
the
back
of
the
house
I
marvelled
at
how
different
it
was
from
the
front.
Wisteria
flowered
on
the
walls
and
the
glorious
scent
of
roses
pervaded
my
nostrils.
A
path
wound
its
way
to
the
lake
which
I
proceeded
to
follow,
quite
overawed
by
the
beauty
of
it
all.

As
I
walked
along
the
path
I
could
see
the
figure
of
a
young
man
walking
ever
nearer
towards
me.
He
wore
no
hat
on
his
dark
tousled
hair
and
was
tall
and
as
I
slowed
my
step
I
could
almost
feel
the
ground
move
beneath
my
feet
and
my
heart
started
to
beat
faster,
why
he
had
this
affect
on
me
I
could
not
say, all
I
knew
was
I’d
never
experienced
such
a
feeling
before.

‘What
a
pleasant
day!’
he
called
out
in
a
strong
low
masculine
voice.

‘Why
yes,
indeed
it
is,’
I
managed
to
utter.
As
we
drew
nearer
to
each
other
I
could
see
that
the
stranger
had
startling
blue
eyes,
very
similar
to
Antony
Kershaw’s,
but
while
Antony
Kershaw’s
were
cold,
his
were
smiling
and
bright.

‘I’m
Thomas
Craddock,’
he
said
with
a
slight
nod
of
his
head,
he
smiled
displaying
his
white
teeth
which
were
even
more
prominent
because
of
his
tanned
skin.
‘And
you
are?’
he
questioned.

‘Abbey
Sinclair,’
I
uttered,
all
the
while
being
held
by
the
startling
blue
of
his
eyes.
‘I
arrived
today
to
be
companion
to
Mrs
Kershaw.’

‘Aunt
Henry,
well
I
wish
you
luck,
she
can
be
a
real
tartar,’
he
admitted
his
eyes
twinkling.

‘Why
do
you
call
her
Henry?’
I
queried
solemnly.
‘She
told
me
she hates
pet
names
and
insists
on
calling
me
Abigail.’

‘Does
she
indeed,
I’ve
always
called
her
Henry
since
I
was
a
child,
I’m
the
errant
nephew,
by
the
way.’
He
laughed
as
he
spoke.

‘And
do
you
live
here
Mr
Craddock?’
I
asked
him.

‘Only
temporarily,
I’m
here
to
catalogue
the
paintings
in
the
long
gallery.
And
please
call
me
Thomas
or
Tom
would
be
even
more
to
my
liking.
Shall
we
take
a
seat?’
As
he
spoke
he
indicated
a
small
wooden
bench
quite
near
us
on
the
path.

‘Why
yes,’
I
agreed
like
someone
in
a
trance.
I
warmed
to
this
young
man
and
felt
that
I
had
known
him
for
a
long
time.

‘Where
do
you
normally
live?’
I
asked,
more
for
something
to
say
than
any
real
desire
to
know
the
answer
for
I
was
quite
happy
that
he
was
at
this
moment
resided
at
Kerslake
Hall.

‘I
have
a
small
house,
Tidwell
Cottage
near
Whitby
which
is
about seven
miles
from
here.
Do
you
know
it?’

‘The
cottage,
no,’
I
replied
foolishly,
for
some
reason
not
knowing
what
I
was
saying.

‘Whitby,
I
mean!’
he
said
laughing.

‘No,
I’ve
lived
most
of
my
life
in
Portsmouth
and
London,
I’m
newly
arrived
here
today.’
My
cheeks
flushed
as
I
spoke
and
I
prayed
he
would
not
look
on
me
as
some
dizzy
person
who
didn’t
know
what
she
was
talking
about.
His
next
words
sent
warmth
through
my
whole
body.