The Secret of Hollyfield House, Jude Bayton [books for 20 year olds txt] 📗

Dominic must be leaving, and hurried out of the kitchen only to find Dominic heading in my direction with my uncle nowhere in sight.

His smiled when he saw me. “Jillian. Might I speak with you before I leave?”

“Of course. What is it?” I drew closer.

“Let us step outside?” He led the way to the front door, opened it and the afternoon sunlight streamed in. He turned back to face me.

“Jillian.” He was close enough that I could see the thickness of his dark lashes, the golden flecks in his amber eyes. I took a breath to calm myself. Why did this man make my senses react this way? I cleared my throat.

“Yes?”

He held my gaze. “I hope you do not think me improper, especially with all you have been going through. But I should like to ask you to accompany me on a walk tomorrow, after we leave Hollyfield. There are some places here in Ambleside I would love to show you.”

His words were platonic, yet the look he bestowed upon me shone as richly as my moonstone.

“I should like that, indeed.” I managed a quiet response, when in truth, I wished more than anything to smile broadly and sound a hurrah.

When he took his hand from the doorknob and reached across to take my own, I almost gasped with surprise. Carefully he held my fingers within the firmness of his grip.

“I want to get to know you better, Jillian Farraday. I find you not only lovely, but fascinating.” He raised my hand to his mouth, and I felt the soft graze of his lips against my knuckles. My intake of breath was audible, but before I could breathe again, he had already gone.

WEDNESDAY DAWNED, AND THE sun shone as brightly as my heart. Though I was not looking forward to my time chaperoning at Hollyfield, I could barely contain my excitement at the prospect of my walk with Dominic afterwards.

“You seem in unusually good spirits this morning, Jilly,” Uncle said, as he finished his breakfast. “Perhaps Dominic Wolfe should visit more often.” He gave a cheeky wink, and I laughed.

“What nonsense.” I picked up his empty plate and set it in the sink. “Now remember, I am away to Hollyfield this morning. There is cheese and ham in the cold pantry you can eat for lunch.” I kissed the top of his balding head and bade him farewell.

As before, the carriage arrived promptly to collect me and whisk me away to Hollyfield House. I enjoyed the fresh morning air, the glisten of dew upon the damp green grass, and the playful young lambs already outside frolicking in the fields. By the time we arrived, my senses were almost vibrating with the anticipation of seeing Dominic again.

Marabelle Pike answered the door. I was taken aback, unprepared for the tall, dark figure and haughty face.

“Good morning, Miss Pike.” I smiled.

“What are you doing here?” she said rudely. “You were not supposed to come, Miss Farraday. Your services are not required today.”

I stood on the doorstep. “Oh. But the carriage called for me.”

“That was a mistake, it should never have been sent.”

I was stupefied. “Is something wrong? Is Miss Evergreen unwell?”

The cold black eyes assessed me. Her body tight and slender, she resembled a cobra preparing to strike. “Miss LaVelle has taken sick to her room, in light of the shocking discovery she made when walking last night.” My expression must have implied confusion because she frowned. “You have not heard?”

“I do not know what you refer to, Miss Pike. Heard what?” My skin prickled with cold apprehension, and I was at once frightened.

“It is the Wolfe boy.”

“Dominic?”

“No,” she said in a monotone voice. “The idiot brother.”

My heart sank. “What has happened?”

Marabelle Pike’s face was unfathomable, still as stone. “He has been arrested. It was his knife that killed the blacksmith. Billy Wolfe has been taken to the gaol for the murder of Jareth Flynn.”

Chapter Eight

I GASPED, AND MARABELLE’S dour countenance shifted to what I would swear was pleasure at my obvious discomfort. Was she so malevolent to the fate of young Billy, not to mention Mr Flynn?

“Will that be all?” she enquired; her disinterested mask slipped back into place.

I tilted my chin and straightened my spine as I replied, “Indeed. Good day.” I turned my back on her before she had time to close the door in my face. As I reached the small lane, my anxiety grew. I pictured the young man I had met so recently, and I could not imagine the same gentle person being responsible for the ghastly scene I had stumbled upon in the lake shallows. What must Dominic be thinking? It was all too horrible to contemplate.

Without conscious thought, I left Lake Road and walked directly to Wolfe Farm. I had no idea if Dominic would even be there, but instinct drew me to him. As I entered the stable yard, all was quiet. The cows were in the pasture, as were the horses. Pigs grunted contently in their pen, and the chickens scratched the dirt, looking for tasty insects.

The farmhouse door was closed, and I knocked loudly. At first I thought no one would come, and then I heard footsteps approaching slowly. The door swung open to reveal Dominic, his face strained, dark circles underneath his eyes and lines furrowed across his brow. His clothes were disheveled as though he had slept in them, and his hair was wild and unkempt.

“Jillian.” His tone was flat. “This is not a good time. I beg you leave. I have much to attend to.”

“Please, Dominic,” I implored. “Allow me to come inside. I have heard the terrible news and would help in some way if I could.” Reluctantly he left the door standing open, turned and walked down the hall. I followed him inside.

In the kitchen he took a seat at the table, rested his elbows on its surface and buried his face into his hands. My heart grieved for him. I went to the hob and