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Lavenders Blue
Lavenders Blue
Lavenders Blue
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Lavenders Blue

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Jean Ward was an American and alive in the twentieth century. Janette was a French sixteenth-century ghost haunting an old manor house, protecting a hidden secret, but to this she needed help of the living, Jean. Knowing that Jean had seen her, Lord Terrington and Jeans fianc, Stuart, could see what was happening but could do nothing to prevent it.

Willingly or not, Jean is transfixed, caught in the whirlwind that propels Jeanette to her purposeto release her from her purgatory.

The only means of detecting Jeanette was the smell of lavender, which accompanies her through the rooms.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherXlibris UK
Release dateJun 3, 2015
ISBN9781493193905
Lavenders Blue
Author

Janet Tyers

I was born at RAF Cosford, Shropshire. As my father was in the RAF, I spent my early years living in different parts of the world. I married and lived in Cambridgeshire with my husband and two children and now have four grandchildren. I now live in Stoke-on-Trent. The Rag Doll was inspired by catching sight of one in a charity shop. The look on its face seemed too creepy for a child. When I was a child, it seemed that every child had a rocking horse, so I thought it would be good to add one to the story.

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    Book preview

    Lavenders Blue - Janet Tyers

    Copyright © 2015 by Janet Tyers.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Rev. date: 06/27/2015

    Xlibris

    800-056-3182

    www.Xlibrispublishing.co.uk

    709579

    Contents

    Prologue

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Chapter Eight

    Chapter Nine

    Chapter Ten

    Chapter Eleven

    Chapter Twelve

    Chapter Thirteen

    Chapter Fourteen

    Chapter Fifteen

    Chapter Sixteen

    Chapter Seventeen

    Chapter Eighteen

    Epilogue

    To Melvin for his love and support and help in the making

    of this book. For our children, Hannah and Bevan. And our

    grandchildren, Ellie Mae and Megan, Ashton and Aidin.

    PROLOGUE

    ‘Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly…’

    They knew they were going to be together forever. She knew, she had this feeling.

    ‘Lavender’s green.’

    Far away she could hear a happy child’s laughter. It was herself in her grandmother’s garden. The only time she had ever been happy.

    ‘When I am King dilly, dilly…’

    She was the most beautiful bride there had ever been. Now he knew during the marriage service he had done the right thing.

    ‘You shall be queen.’

    She was a young dark-haired girl wearing a crown of blue lavender. Her dress billowed and shone.

    It was to be the first and last time all were to see her, to smell her, and to feel her existence.

    CHAPTER ONE

    Stuart stood hidden near the bottom of the stairs in the sixteenth-century house, stairs which were shaped like a square horseshoe, going up both sides of the house. Jean had just finished on the telephone, trying to convince her brother that everything was normal and that she was fine and well. He sighed and leant his head back against the wall as her footsteps sounded softly up the stairs on the thick red carpet. He didn’t think his wife was well; she still needed help, perhaps starting with getting away from the house—better still, never to return. Whose fault had it been? How the devil did it happen? But things snowballed and events unfurled themselves into one long nightmare from which he had tried many times to wake himself.

    He walked to the foot of the stairs and gazed upwards. He heard laughter from outside. Slowly he made his way up the stairs and into the room he shared with his young wife. She was staring out of the window, her shoulders sagging and her forehead resting on the cold glass of the windowpane.

    Silently, his steps led him right up behind her; her perfume drifted up his nose sending his senses reeling. He loved her. He couldn’t leave her when she needed him most. But he was tired and had been tempted along the way. Twice he had reached for his suitcase, and on both occasions he had remembered the soft look in her eyes along with her fear and bewilderment as she searched his face for all her answers. He gave a silent prayer, ‘Please, dear God, I hope that it has finished for good.’

    He placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her near him, kissing the back of her head, her blonde soft hair smelling of apple blossom. ‘Jeanie… ?’

    She swung round, smiling. ‘Oh, Stuart, you don’t know how much I love you.’

    He stared into her shining eyes; there was a look about her, her face flushed. He bit his lip, fear gnawing away inside. ‘Jean, is there anything wrong?’

    ‘It is all over, Stuart, I can be happy. There will not be any more nightmares, no more panic, not now… nor at any other time’ she said, bending her head.

    He cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her face up to his. ‘Jean, how can you be sure? Can you guarantee that this is the end of it all?’

    Tears sprang into her smiling eyes. ‘Oh yes,’ she whispered.

    His arms went round her slim body, and he pulled her tightly against him, feeling her soft curves mould into his hard frame. He kissed her hard, feeling her respond eagerly, and calmness swept over him like a blanket. But still there was something not quite right.

    ‘Jean, have you something else to tell me?’

    ‘Well… I am not sure…’ She looked into his smiling face as it dawned on him what she was trying to tell him. ‘I think I am going to have a baby.’

    ‘Have you seen the doctor about it?’

    ‘He told me this morning when he called in on me.’

    Stuart laughed, ‘so I am going to be a dad.’

    Jean nodded. ‘Stuart, I feel tired. Would you mind if I go back to bed for a while?’

    He shook his head and helped her climb back on to the four-poster bed. Once she had drifted off to sleep, he kissed her head and went into the recording studio that had been built into the old servants’ quarters. He sat and played about with the strings on his guitar and let his thoughts turn back over the past two years or so.

    Jean had been sixteen when he had first seen her, he being twenty.

    CHAPTER TWO

    Stuart sat down at the kitchen table in his friend’s house. He was feeling very annoyed. He had had another argument with Shelia the night before. He was getting slightly sick of her. He had tried to end it all, but she had made certain threats that he shouldn’t really ignore.

    ‘Are you with us, Stuart? You have been sitting, staring into space for the last twenty minutes. Where have you been, lad?’ cried Chris Douglas, his blonde hair falling over his face.

    ‘Och, just ignore him, he might go away,’ said Pete Anderson laughing. ‘If you are wondering what it is we are talking about, it happens to be about a young lass; who at this very moment is fast asleep on the settee.’

    ‘What young lass?’

    ‘Aha! We have got his attention at last,’ said Colin Anderson. He gave a knowing smile as he looked over at his friend, his brown hair over his collar, his blue eyes red-rimmed from another sleepless night. ‘Why don’t you give her up, Stuart? Her attitude is going to cost us another member of this group.’

    ‘I wish it was as easy as that. I have tried. God knows I have.’

    Chris got up and broke a glass by knocking it to the floor. Mike McDonald sighed and made to grab the dustpan and brush. ‘You know something, lad? You are going to cost my mum a hell of a lot of money in glassware if you are not careful.’

    Stuart was about to say something when the door opened, and his attention was caught by the young girl walking into the kitchen with a blanket wrapped about her. Her blue eyes darted from one face to another, eventually resting on his. She seemed frightened as she pulled the blanket tighter to her body. The others turned their heads to see what had caught Stuart’s gaze.

    ‘Who is she?’ asked Chris.

    Mike answered, ‘My cousin found her outside the disco asleep amongst the boxes. As it was cold out, he brought her here.’

    Stuart was amused by the accusing look she was sending Mike, and then red flooded her neck and face. He realised that she was naked beneath her cover and was supposing that it had been Mike who had undressed her. He inclined his head as the blanket slipped off her shoulder, showing olive-coloured flesh. Something stirred inside him the more she stared at him. He got out of his chair and poured out a cup of tea. He went to hand it to her at which she took it with one hand and held on to the blanket with the other, showing white knuckles. She began to shiver, and Stuart slipped an arm about her and led her into the living room, first sending Mike for his mother.

    In the silence of the room, Stuart placed her in the armchair by the fire, poking it a couple of times before placing a few more bits of coal on top. He was tempted to kiss her but refrained and smiled. Tears flooded her eyes, and she looked away.

    A woman walked into the room and smiled. ‘Well now, what are we going to do with you? Stuart, you can leave and join the rest of the group in the kitchen. Your breakfast is on the table.’

    ‘Thanks, Mrs McDonald.’

    The young girl began to get dressed while the woman folded up the blankets, eventually passing a brush for her to brush her long blonde hair. It didn’t take much to know when Stuart Saunders was interested in a lassie, but this one was far too young.

    ‘Now then, what is it they call you?’

    ‘Donna Brown.’ The girl hesitated and went to add words but changed her mind.

    ‘Aye, okay, drink your tea, Donna, or else it will get cold.’

    The woman sat down in the armchair opposite. She felt concern for the girl. ‘Where do you live, Donna?’

    ‘From down south,’ she said in a quiet voice.

    ‘Och, aye? Well, you stay where you are, and I’ll get you a bit to eat.’ Making sure that the girl was comfortable, she left the room to join her son and his friends.

    ‘I don’t like this, Mike. There is something amiss about the lass, and if her name is Donna Brown as she claims, then I will eat my hat.’

    Stuart looked thoughtfully down at his eggs and hash. ‘It isn’t Donna Brown, although I have to admit I can’t remember her real name. I am sure that I have seen her somewhere before.’

    ‘That maybe, lad, but until we know her real name, there is not a lot we can do.’

    Pushing his plate away, Stuart got up and went back into the living room. He stood in the doorway and looked at the distressed girl. He could hear the others behind him. Going to the other side of the room, he knelt down in front of her. ‘Where exactly do you come from, Donna?’

    She didn’t say anything. Her thoughts were elsewhere, and there was nothing she could do for herself now. The damage was done. Glancing at Stuart, she felt reassured by the cornflower-blue eyes. Releasing the tears, she let them roll down her face to drip on to her jeans. Through the tears blurring her vision, she saw Stuart move towards her. Her arms went around his neck, and sobs racked her body.

    Stuart tightened his strong arms and pulled her into his broad shoulder, finding he enjoyed her touch and becoming very much aware of her. Chris knelt down beside her and began to stroke her hair for comfort and noted the faraway look in his friend’s eyes.

    ‘Well, something isn’t right,’ said Pete, Colin’s brother, as he leant his long lean frame back against the wall, gazing up at the ceiling.

    Keeping his eye on Stuart, Chris spoke, ‘Do you want another cup of tea, Donna?’

    She nodded, pushing her hair away from her hot flushed face and moving back from Stuart. He pulled her around to him and spoke to her, ‘What is the matter, Donna?’

    She looked into his eyes, but as the colour drained from her face it left her with white cheeks then she looked away. ‘Nothing, I am just a bit tired, that’s all.’

    He studied her face for a while, knowing that she was lying. Slowly he sank back on to his heels, his fingertips gently running down the side of her face before his hand dropped down by his side.

    ‘Okay, Donna, no more questions.’ To himself he added, for now!

    She smiled as she pulled herself together. Maybe everything would work out alright after all. She had found some new friends but for how long, she didn’t know and wasn’t going to think about it.

    ‘Hey, that is better,’ whispered Stuart gently. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs.

    Colin left the room and went in search of Chris and Mrs McDonald, finding them in the kitchen in deep discussion.

    ‘Something tells me that we have a runaway on our hands,’ mused Colin, sitting on the radiator, his blonde hair falling into his eyes.

    ‘My words exactly,’ said Chris, twisting his signet ring around on his index finger. ‘You know, she looks very familiar to me. I am sure that I have seen her somewhere before, and I am pretty sure that her name is not Donna and she isn’t English.’

    ‘How do you know that?’ asked Mrs McDonald, looking into Chris’s large brown eyes. She was a little envious of his long eyelashes. Carefully she poured boiling water into the teapot. ‘She sounds very English to me.’

    ‘Aye, that may be, but if you listen carefully, she has a very slight twang of an American accent,’ said Colin.

    Chris stood for a moment, giving a long unhappy sigh. ‘Stuart has taken a fancy to her, we had better keep an eye on him.’

    ‘Don’t you think he has enough problems without getting involved with a sixteen year old girl?’ asked Mrs McDonald.

    ‘She is very lucky a pimp didn’t pick her up. There are many riding about in Edinburgh,’ said Colin.

    ‘Aye, and in any city, London is on top of the list, along with cities in the midlands,’ added Chris. ‘Whatever made her come in this direction?’

    Mrs McDonald smiled. ‘You don’t have a care in the world when you are running away. The first train that comes along will do at times. Anywhere is better than staying in a difficult situation.’

    ‘I don’t suppose she is pregnant?’ mused Chris.

    ‘No, lad, she seems too innocent…’ Mrs McDonald stopped and gave it a thought. ‘Yet in saying that, it usually turns out that quiet ones are the worst off. Come on, they will be talking about the three of us, and she will become suspicious. Let us wait and see what Mr McDonald turns up with.’

    Mrs McDonald waltzed back into the living room. ‘Now then, lassie, what are we going to do with you? There is nothing we can do until you tell us what you are doing in Scotland.’

    ‘I am on holiday… I was going to give my friends a surprise visit, but they gave me one instead. They have moved away.’

    ‘Why don’t we let her stay here awhile, Mum, until she finds where her friends have moved to?’ suggested Mike.

    ‘Do you know where they have moved to, Donna?’

    ‘None whatsoever.’

    Mrs McDonald nodded slowly. ‘You had better stay here. Perhaps we can make a few enquiries.’

    ‘I do have to fetch my case from the station.’

    ‘Your case is at the station?’

    ‘I didn’t want to carry my case around with me while I looked for the address. I wasn’t exactly sure where it was.’

    Mrs McDonald nodded and gave Stuart a look of annoyance, which he saw and understood. He followed the others out but not before giving Donna a last look.

    While Mrs McDonald went about her chores, she chatted pleasantly away to the young girl, but got nothing in return. She wanted to know more about her, and the more she kept silent the more convincing that she was a run-away.

    During the evening meal of sandwiches, Stuart told Donna of the concert tour they had just completed, and he also showed her some photos. Chris mentioned a trip to the States, watching her face closely, and felt triumph in her hesitation by suddenly clamping her mouth tightly shut. A slow smile spread across his face as he sat back to listen, holding her unsure gaze with his own. So he had been right; he had seen her before.

    While watching television that evening, Mike and Stuart spoke about their new album to be released in a couple of months. Donna was watching the screen. With the film now finished, it bought on the daily news. Stuart, knowing that she wasn’t listening, changed the subject to her and was surprised when her face drained of all colour, her hand stretched out to the television. He nodded in answer

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