Sandra Heath Read Online Free PDF Page B

hand on her arm. “Wait here, and I’ll find him.”
    He strode swiftly across the terrace, leaving no footprints in the thin carpet of snow. The cloisters enclosed a grassy quadrangle which was brightly illuminated by variegated lanterns, but in spite of the light, he couldn’t at first see Rowley anywhere. Then he espied the spaniel cowering in a nook of the vaulted ceiling. “Come down, you tiresome cur!” he ordered.
    Rowley made no move. He’d come face-to-face with a cat, and nothing was going to make him come down. He remembered only too well that cats had sharp claws, and it didn’t occur to him that now he was a ghost he would be immune to such things.
    Kit heard Henrietta and Charlotte approaching as they left the ball, and he looked urgently at the spaniel. “Rowley, if you don’t get down from there this instant, so help me I’ll use my sword, and I won’t be responsible for where I jab it!”
    Seeing the grim determination in Kit’s eyes, the little dog leaped down and dashed out onto the terrace. Kit followed at the double, and as Jane scooped her pet into her arms, they all fled toward the flight of stone steps that led down to the open cliff top. They were out of sight as Henrietta and Charlotte emerged from the cloisters.
    Charlotte immediately stopped when she realized it had been snowing. “Well,” she declared, “the local weather sages have all pronounced the temperature to be far too low for snow here by the sea, yet here it is!”
    “Since we’re only wearing satin slippers, perhaps we should go back inside?” Henrietta suggested, glancing around for any sign of the ghosts.
    “We’ll just go to the balustrade and then come back. Come along.” Charlotte caught her hand and hurried her out into the night.
     

Chapter Four
     
    Away from the hothouse temperature of the ballroom, the cold was so intense that as Henrietta and Charlotte crossed the east-facing terrace, they both immediately raised their hoods and pulled their cloaks closer. The lanterned balustrade was right at the edge of the sheer cliff, and the lights of Mulborough shone about a quarter of a mile away to the south. Beyond the little town, which stood where the river Mull spilled into the sea from its steep tree-choked valley, there was another headland, upon which was built St. Tydfa’s church. No breeze stirred the air and the clouds obscured the moon. The only sounds were the idle wash of the waves far below and the music drifting faintly from the ballroom.
    Charlotte shivered. “It isn’t often that everything is this quiet up here. In fact it was the very opposite one day early last month.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “A notorious French privateer called the Légère had the audacity to try to enter Mulborough harbor in broad daylight. All the able-bodied men had gone out with the fishing fleet, so can you imagine the consternation in the town when a black-masted vessel was seen approaching? Only the French paint their masts black, and of all the privateers, the Légère is the most feared. She carries so much spar and sail that to see her in full cry is to wonder she doesn’t take to the air. Her captain is rumored to be young and handsome, but he is also completely ruthless, and stories abound that he gives no quarter, even to women. Anyway, Russell had the presence of mind to order the firing of our poor little cannons.” Charlotte pointed along the terrace to the two cannons that had always stood there. “The Légère made off, and afterward it was learned that several local pilots had been approached and offered large bribes if they would divulge the new location of the channel.”
    Peeping onto the terrace, the watching ghosts had heard every word. Mention of a French privateer renewed the echoes of their fate upon the Goodwins, and Jane shrank a little closer to Kit. He slipped a comforting arm around her, and for once Rowley did not snap at him.
    “New location of the channel?” Henrietta