Rite of Passage Read Online Free PDF Page A

is the best in New England.”
    “Well, I think there are a few places that might argue with that , ” Jon said as he put down the paper. “But it is damn good.”
    Gretchen looked at me, brows raised. “Have you thought about what I asked you? About spending time with Courtney?” she asked. “I feel so badly. Except for her daily visit to the stables she’s stayed to herself. I’ve tried to get close and get her to go to the local dances and meet other young people, but I’ve had no luck breaking through the wall she’s built around herself.”
    This could be an invitation to disaster. But how could I refuse? “If you think she’d open up with me, I’ll try.” Why not volunteer? Kind, friendly, platonic . I reaffirmed my pledge from last night.
    Jonathan scowled. Gretchen looked annoyed and batted his arm.
    “Give her a chance, Jon. The poor girl has been through so much. Her mother’s death, being sent here to live with us.”
    “Yes, and why do you suppose your charming brother-in-law sent her here? Because she’s an angel, the perfect child he couldn’t stand to be away from?” He shook his head. “I did some investigating.” He looked at me, then back at her. “If you’re going to be her babysitter, there are some things you should know.”
    “You’re ridiculous,” she said bitterly. “Jon has some friends in the press. They dredged up this drivel about a mystery behind Ellen’s death and other odd things that happened around Briarwood, her estate in Gloucestershire.”
    “ A mystery!” he threw back at her. “You be the judge,” he said, directing his comments to me.
    “Ellen died in a fall from her horse. They said she broke her neck. Courtney claimed the animal was spooked by lightning, but her mother was the best horsewoman in western England, and no one saw so much as a rain cloud that afternoon. When the constable went to the site of the accident , there were strange markings near her body. Markings that the locals claimed were associated with witchcraft. On top of that, there were other mysterious deaths in the previous five years, when Courtney and only Courtney was—” He stopped in midsentence.
    We turned to see her enter the dining room dressed in riding clothes. She walked with fluid strides, like a thoroughbred.
    I found myself frowning at Jonathan. “Gretchen, do you believe any of this…”
    “…nonsense?” She finished my thought, giving her husband a tap on the wrist. “No, not at all. Jonathan has visions of Olivier and Fontaine at Mandalay.” She scoffed. “Courtney is a sweet, beautiful child. Nothing more. She’s lonely, hurt, and in need of a friend.”
    “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jon narrowed his eyes as he looked in her direction.
    “She’s looking this way.” Gretchen pushed me. “Please. Go talk to her, Robbie.”
    “I’ll remember your warning. If she tries to turn me into a frog, you’ll be the first to know.” I chuckled, as I took my coffee cup. Courtney and witchcraft? I remembered her question about magic and my strange dreams from last night. I had to admit I found the idea intriguing. The occult had always fascinated me. I gave her a wave. She looked up and showed a shy smile when she saw me. I headed toward her table.
    “Good morning. I see you’ve had yourexercise.” I put my cup on the table. She looked up, her enormous eyes bright. “Anyone sitting here?” I asked.
    “Hello,” she said quietly, reaching over and pushing out the chair. “No one but you. I usually sit by myself. I get rather fragrant after a ride, especially on a warm day.” She turned up her nose and showed an apologetic smile as she moved her helmet, gloves, and crop to an empty seat.
    Her thick, dark hair looked damp, tied in a loose braid. The riding clothes she wore looked utilitarian—something for a workout, not show. I watched her, taking in each feature. She wore little makeup. Her face was dotted with beads of perspiration, but Courtney