Lord of the Far Island by Victoria Holt (romance book recommendations TXT) 📗

it seem as though a shutter had dropped over his eyes?

"I can't tell 'ee about a picture room, Miss Ellen," he said slowly.

"Why not?"

"My dear Ellen," laughed Gwennol, "you're obsessed by this room. Your mother just painted a cozy homely place and that's all there is to it. What's so special about that particular painting?"

Slack nodded. A blank look was in his eyes. I thought: He is stupid after all.

"Let's be going," said Gwennol. "Is everything ready, Slack?" They exchanged a glance which seemed to have a meaning from which I was shut out.

"Everything be done and we'm ready to go," said Slack.

We went out of the castle and down to the shore where the boats were moored. The sea was calm that morning and the boat skimmed lightly over the water. There was a seraphic smile on Slack's face as though he loved the task. He looked very different from the way he had when I had asked him about the room.

I watched him—Slack-Baked—not finished off. It was an apt description of him in a way. His hands were strong and yet they looked like a child's hands; his eyes were childlike too, except when the shutters came down.

"If the sea's like this when we come back I'll row," said Gwennol. "Do you row, Ellen?"

"A little," I answered, and I immediately thought of rowing on the river near Trentham Towers where Philip and I had once overturned a boat. Philip's image was so easy to invoke.

"Then you should practice and do more than a little because you'll find it very useful to row yourself round the Island. There's usually someone available to row us but it's good here to be self-reliant."

Nearer came the mainland and in due course we ran ashore on the sandy beach. Slack took off his boots and rolled up his trousers before jumping out and with the water halfway up his spindly legs pulled the boat in and tied it up. We then made our way to the inn.

Mrs. Pengelly came out beaming a welcome and her delight was obvious when she saw her son.

"Why 'tis you then, Augustus my boy," she said, and for a moment I wondered who Augustus was and then I realized that a mother would not use such a nickname for her beloved son.

"And welcome to 'ee, Miss Gwennol, Miss Ellen. Would you like some refreshment? You'll be wanting horses, I reckon."

"I shall," said Gwennol. "Shall you, Ellen?"

I said I would, for the thought had come to me that it would be pleasant to call at Hydrock Manor. After all, I had been invited to when I should visit the mainland and here was the opportunity.

"Well, you go to the stables then, Augustus, and tell your father the ladies be here and what they do want. Then come to the kitchen where I'll have a tidbit for 'ee. We've pasties straight from the oven. And what would the ladies be looking for? A glass of wine while you'm waiting?"

Gwennol said: "Has anyone arrived at the inn yet?"

"No, Miss Gwennol. No one be here yet."

"We'll drink a glass of wine then please," said Gwennol.

We went in and she brought out her blackberry wine and the saffron cakes with which I was becoming familiar.

We had not been there long when there was a commotion in the innyard and it was obvious from the sound of horse's hoofs that someone had arrived.

Gwennol sat very still in her seat and a smile slowly touched her face, making it not only striking but beautiful.

"In the inn parlor," said a voice which I recognized with pleasure was that of Sir Michael Hydrock.

As he entered Gwennol rose and went to him, holding out both her hands, which he took. Then he saw me and a smile of delighted recognition lit up his face.

"Miss Kellaway," he cried. "Miss Ellen Kellaway."

Gwennol looked in astonishment from one of us to the other. "You . . . you know each other. You. . . you can't."

"Oh, but we do," said Michael, dropping her hands and advancing towards me. I held out a hand, which he took and covered with both his. "How are you enjoying the Island?" he asked.

"I'm finding it enormously interesting," I told him.

"I don't understand this," said Gwennol rather impatiently.

"It's easily explained," Michael told her. And I added: "When I was waiting to come to the Island and had to spend a day at the inn I did a little exploring and got lost in Hydrock's woods. Sir Michael rescued me."

"I see," said Gwennol coolly.

"You must come to the Manor now," said Michael warmly.

"Thank you. I should love that. I found your house enchanting."

"Are the Pengelly's horses ready for you?" he asked.

"I've already ordered them," said Gwennol.

"Well, when you're ready perhaps we can go."

"Ellen may have other plans," suggested Gwennol. "She said she wanted to explore the countryside."

"As a matter of fact," I answered, "it had occurred to me that I might call at the Manor." I turned to Michael. "You did say that I might call when I was on the mainland."

"In fact," he replied, "I should have been very hurt if you hadn't."

"I'm looking forward to seeing the Manor again."

"Ah, now you've lived in the castle. We're not as grand as that, I'm afraid."

"The Manor is beautiful," I said.

"It's the most beautiful house I've ever seen," added Gwennol fervently.

"Thank you, Gwennol," said Michael. "Do you know, I rather think the same myself."

We went into the yard where the horses were ready for us. Mrs. Pengelly, delighted to have her son with her for a few hours and pleased, I think, to see me again, watched us ride off. In a very short time we were in the drive leading to the Manor.

"I'm going to show you the house, Miss Kellaway," said Michael to me. "You didn't see it last time. By the way, how's the ankle?"

"I never felt any more from it. The next morning I shouldn't have known anything had happened to it."

"So you hurt