Chapter 39
She had never seen such high mountains in her life. They took her breath away. They terrified her. But she had little time to gape, to forget the damp snowflakes swirling about her, for the coachman and Welsh gardener’s boy were standing awaiting her instructions.
She finally found her voice. “I know the castle is not as empty as it appears, there have always been custodians. I wrote to them in the autumn saying I intended to take up residence eventually.” Her voice trailed off as she realised that she had never had a reply. She had thought nothing of it, but she knew now that she ought to have taken the lack of response as a warning.
The St Clairs were not welcome.
Catherine turned to the coachman. “Ride into the village and trouble the keeper of the nearest inn for advice.
