Each spring morning thus far had been warmer than the one previous. Except today. A cold snap and frozen dew to the bare bushes in the garden, icicles dripped from the windows and the path crunched underfoot. John and Mr Ridlay had talked but a few minutes in the yard before walking into the stables, John’s arm on Mr Ridlay’s shoulder.
Rosalie debated on bringing them to rein or letting them commit c*****e on the Benedict heads. They had two days until the eve of the spring equinox.
Even though it tore through every instinct, she would have to stop them. The yard felt particularly lifeless without Drew. She commanded an iron will and kept the blubbering tears at bay. The men’s voices could be heard but words not distinguished until she opened the door.
‘She said down Macquarie Street so
