Read The Lady and the Lake Online
Authors: Rosemary Smith
The Lady and the Lake
© Rosemary Smith 2006
Rosemary Smith has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First published in 2006 by Linford Romance as THE BROODING LAKE
This edition published by Endeavour Press Ltd 2014
Dedicated
with
love to
the
memory
of
my
friend Beryl
Lord
of
East
Budleigh who
appreciated
the
written
word, and
was
a
wonderful
conversationalist.
You
are
greatly
missed.
I
stood
in
the
hot
July
sun
watching
the
coach
and
horses
which
had
conveyed
me
from
York
trundle
away
in
the
distance
across
the
Yorkshire
moors.
I
looked
at
the
signpost
which
pointed
to
Kerslake
Hall
and
then
surveyed
the
small
trunk
and
valise
at
my
feet.
There
was
little
chance
that
I
could
carry
them
the
two
miles
indicated
to
the
Hall.
My
brow
was
hot
and
I
brushed
my
equally
warm
hand
across
it
with
little
relief,
it
was
tempting
to
remove
my
straw
boater
and
mauve
short
wide-collared
jacket,
but
knew
it
would
not
be
seemly
even
in
this
wilderness,
for
that
is
how
it
appeared
to
me.
The
track
I
would
need
to
traverse
was
rough
and
uneven,
no
trees
were
in
sight
where
I
could
have
rested
for
a
while
in
the
shade.
The
high-necked collar
of
my
white
blouse
was
suffocating
and
swiftly
I
loosened
the
large
bow,
undoing
the
top
button,
now
I
could
at
least
breathe.
While
mulling
over
what
to
do
it
would
seem
help
was
moving
towards
me
in
the
form
of
a
brown
pony
and
small
trap.
As
the
young
man
came
to
a
halt
on
the
dusty
road
beside
me
he
raised
his
cap.
‘Can
I
help
you,
Miss?’
he
asked
in
a
pleasant
Yorkshire
brogue
while
glancing
at
my
luggage.
‘I
am
bound
for
Kerslake
Hall,’
I
replied
with
hope,
although
knowing
it
would
be
unconventional
to
accept
assistance
from
this
stranger,
but
it
appeared
I
had
no
other
choice
and
he
seemed
pleasant
enough.
The
young
man
looked
over
my
head
into
the
distance
somehow
deliberating
what
to
do.
‘There’s
not
many
that
would
venture
near
the
Hall
since...’
His
words
trailed
away.
‘Since
what?’
I
enquired
somewhat sharply,
was
it
with
anxiety
or
impatience
I
wondered.
Not
for
me
to
say,
Miss,
but
I
can
see
the
predicament
you
are
in,
let
me
help
you
on
board.’
So
saying
he
jumped
down,
swiftly
storing
my
luggage
in
the
back
of
the
trap,
and
then
assisting
me
on
to
the
seat
beside
him,
my
flared
petticoats
almost
sticking
to
my
legs.
We
moved
slowly
along
the
uneven
track,
out
of
the
corner
of
my
eye
I
could
see
him
glancing
at
me
from
time
to
time.
I
kept
silent
until
he
spoke.
‘My
name’s
Harry,’
he
said,
‘And
yours,
Miss?’
At
this
question
I
was
reticent
to
offer
a
name
but
in
view
of
his
help
realised
it
would
be
rude
not
to.
‘Abbey
Sinclair,’
I
offered
quietly.
‘A
lovely
name
if
I
may
be
so
bold,
Miss,
and
quite
appropriate
as
there
are
many
abbeys
in
these
parts
albeit
they
are
ruined.’
That
piece
of
information
was
pleasing
to
my
ear
as
I
had
a
love
of history
which
prompted
my
next
question.
‘Is
there
one
near
the
Hall?’
I
asked
with
interest.
‘There
most
certainly
is
Miss,
not
far
from
the
surrounding
wall.
I
don’t
know
for
sure,
but
would
imagine
you
could
see
Thurston
Abbey
from
an
upper
window.’
The
ground
was
flat,
covered
with
a
springy
carpet
of
beautiful
purple
heather.
On
the
horizon
there
were
ranges
of
hills
some
higher
than
others,
the
tops
of
which
were
obscured
by
a
heat
haze,
then
ahead
of
me
on
the
right
I
caught
sight
of
a
large
grey
forbidding-looking
building
surrounded
by
a
high
granite
wall.
Harry
must
have
heard
my
sharp
intake
of
breath.
‘Still
time
to
change
your
mind
Miss,
for
that
is
indeed
Kerslake
Hall.’
At
his
words
I
was
sorely
tempted
to
instruct
Harry
to
retrace
our
journey,
but
then
I
thought
of
Mrs
Henrietta
Kershaw
who
would
be
expecting
me,
and
maybe
it
wouldn’t
be
so
bad
as
it appeared,
but
then
if
the
place
looked
so
eerie
in
sunlight,
what
would
it
look
like
in
the
dead
of
winter?
‘Please
stop
for
a
moment,
Harry,
for
I
need
to
collect
my
thoughts.’
Without
realising
it,
as
I
spoke
I
gently
touched
his
arm
as
he
drew
Bessie
to
a
halt.
What
am
I
doing
here?
I
asked
myself
already
knowing
the
answer,
in
this
year
of
Our
Lord
1890
an
impoverished
young
woman
had
but
two
courses
to
follow
in
life,
marriage
or
a
position
as
governess
or
companion.