The Haunting at Hawke's Moor Read Online Free PDF Page B

top and a round clock face in the
center. Anne didn't really like it and she had no idea if it ran on
time, but it did run after she'd dusted out its innards and found
the little key that wound it.
    She had a parlor now and sat on one of the
chairs, taking a moment to drink tea and reflect. Her hands were
red and swollen, her nails ragged, but the parlor was clean. She
could even receive visitors if any were ever to come. Perhaps the
reverend would come back one day.
    Having Alfie around had made a
remarkable difference. He was proficient with the cow and had
managed to fix the stone wall enclosing the pasture. There was milk
every day now, and the kitchen garden was starting to sprout. Being
a Yorkshire man, he also seemed able to deal with the surly Mr.
Turner, although he disliked being sent for the long walk over to
their farm. He'd even coaxed the man to give them some chicks, that
would hopefully lay eggs in a matter of months.
    Anne sighed. It felt like the knot of worry
and dread in her stomach was starting to ease. At least they were
probably not going to starve.
    There was apparently a coach that traveled
on a road that was three hours walk from the manor. Maybe at some
point in the future, she could acquire a horse and carriage, but
that was an impossibility right now. It may never be a possibility
as far as she knew. They didn't have the resources to farm as the
Turners did, could only feed themselves, but if that was all they
had, then she would be glad for it.
    The sun was setting on another day. Lisle
would be in the kitchen preparing the evening meal, which was
probably nettle soup. At least there were nettles, as many as they
could use.
    As Anne watched, it grew darker both
inside and out. The house seemed to change when it got dark. The
world outside disappeared and they were floating in a sea of empty
blackness.
    They were out of candles, so there was only
the lantern left. At some point, they needed provisions. Anne would
have to find something to sell. Maybe the clock, but then they
would have no way of telling time—but what was there to keep time
to out here? The sun rose and it set, and there was endless work in
between.
    Straightening her stiff back, Anne
stood and walked to the kitchen. The fire in the heart lit the
space and Alfie sat at the table while Lisle tended to the soup. He
straightened as Anne walked in, uncomfortable in her presence, as
if he didn't know what to do when she was around.
    According to etiquette, Anne should be
dining by herself, but if etiquette was observed, she would never
have any company at all. Some things had to be sacrificed, and
Alfie would get used to her presence.
    Whatever conversation they'd had
didn't continue with her there and they were both silent. Anne
almost felt unwelcome, but she seated herself. "I hope everyone has
had a good day," she said. "It feels that, with your presence,
Alfie, we are making strong progress. I hope all was well with Mr.
Turner."
    "Aye," Alfie said without elaborating more.
He rarely did say anything other than what was strictly
necessary.
    Lisle carried the iron pot to the
table with a towel protecting her hand and set it down. It didn't
smell very nice and it was barely edible, but it was all they had.
Lisle wasn't particularly gifted in the kitchen, but she had more
skills than Anne did.
    "I swear I heard a child laugh today," Lisle
said as she tore a piece of bread.
    "Must be the wind," Alfie said. "It plays
tricks."
    "Maybe," Lisle said. "My money's on there
being something evil in this house."
    "What a notion, Lisle," Anne chided.
    "From the moment I arrived, I knew something
weren't right."
    Anne didn't know what to say but felt
she needed to put a stop to this ridiculousness. Lisle always
imagined a villain lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. "You
also thought our neighbors in London would murder us in our
sleep."
    "They would have, too, if we'd have
stayed long enough."
    "That's ridiculous, Lisle. Your imagination
is