Cold Summer Wind: Book Two of the Hot Winter Sun Series

By Jessica Russell

The Bradshaws, who readers first met in Hot Winter Sun, are living a peaceful life in Restoration England, under the gay and clever King Charles II. A season is launched for their unusually beautiful and high-spirited daughter, Julia. However, after an unexpected visit from Philip Lambarth, a bizarre and tragic chain of events is set off, changing Julia's life forever.

Too late, Julia realizes the true nature of the man she thought she loved, and broken-hearted, impetuously enters a marriage of convenience. Julia attempts to live quietly and banish the memory of Philip's treachery, when another man captures her heart in a way she never dreamed possible.

Being unable to convince Julia to end her unsuitable marriage, he eventually leaves Cornwall for London, and Julia is left devastated and hopeless in a trap of her own making. Madness and murder then stalk this unusual heroine, until an astonishing twist of fate restores the happiness she thought was lost forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gatekeeper Press
• Release date: Oct 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662932939

Jessica Russell

Jessica Russell is the pen name of Jesse Broadt, a professional web content writer who specializes in travel. Passionate about history, the author is an avid reader of both historical fiction and nonfiction history books. Throughout her life, she was inspired by authors such as Victoria Holt, Phyllis A. Whitney, and Belva Plain, and strives to create the same kind of multidimensional, entertaining characters that readers can relate to, understand, and ultimately enjoy. A professional singer at one time, the author refers to words as "music of another kind," and hopes they are felt that way by her readers. Broadt lives in the southeastern United States with her husband Dan, who she has been married to since 1987, and Frosty and Snoodle, her faithful, purring companions. She loves music, reading, traveling, and simply enjoying the sights and sounds of nature.

Book preview

Shadows

Under a breezy, sunny sky, typical for Cornwall, England in mid-June, the pair made their way down the picturesque country lane. Philip Lambarth was lost in thought about what he would say to Julian Bradshaw, knowing his proposition must be compelling from the first moment with such a man. Philip Lambarth was an overly ambitious estate Lord and had plans for a joint venture between himself and Lord Bradshaw. When they approached Briarwood Manor, he thought about how well the estate had fared, even weathering England’s Civil War in the 1640s. A thriving, prosperous estate it was, and Philip didn’t see why he couldn’t work some of Bradshaw’s wealth to his advantage.

He looks arrogant to me, his companion, Sylvia, said, squinting her eyes to get a better picture of Lord Bradshaw as he came to meet them.

He has much to be arrogant about. He and his nephew have run the estate without a false step for decades, and it’s now richer and more prosperous than it was in the days of Julian’s father, and it was rich indeed at that time. Grantley Estates is thriving now as well. That was the home of Bradshaw’s sister and her husband, who are now dead. Lady Bradshaw’s brother and his wife kept the two homes as best they could during England’s years under Oliver Cromwell. Both estates are now prospering to the fullest. They added a third some time ago. It’s run by Lady Bradshaw’s brother, Matthew Trefelner, I believe. You can feel the wealth from the moment you ride onto the property, he went on, his eyes alight with envy. Bradshaw has more money and power now than he ever did. This meeting must go well.

Sylvia looked disinterested, having no grasp of the conversation, and said, They still call his wife ‘the beautiful Lady Bradshaw’ around here, although she must be in her late forties now, a number that seemed ancient to eighteen-year-old Sylvia. I want to see the remarkable dark gray eyes they all talk about. That’s her, isn’t it?

Yes, with the golden hair. She’s just come from around the garden. I suppose she must be about forty-eight by now, but she looks like a much younger woman. He didn’t mention that Catherine’s daughter, whom Sylvia was unlikely to be fond of, was equally as lovely. Julia had the look of her father, though, in virtually every way, only her hair was even darker, almost midnight black, and her eyes a shade deeper as well, the darkest bluish green. Where her mother’s fairness was, in a way, ethereal, Julia’s looks were just as alluring, but in a dark and mysterious manner; and their personalities coincided in an amusing way with their physical characteristics. Catherine was serene and not given to hasty reactions, while Julia was emotional and somewhat impetuous. The few times he’d seen Julia in the past, Philip had always felt there was a mystifying aura about her, and he was unaware that a faint smile played about his lips when he thought of it now. Mysterious indeed, but hopefully not to me much longer.

When the guests were shown in, Julian and Catherine called their daughter to meet them. Although Philip knew who Julia was, he’d not been formally introduced until that day. He was pleased to finally be making her acquaintance through her parents, since then he could claim he knew her, and perhaps see her in more intimate settings in the future. Julia had never seen Philip before, although her brother knew him. She immediately found him interesting–and attractive. Observing his light hair and eyes and tanned skin, she thought it made a unique contrast and determined that he must spend a lot of time in the saddle. Her gaze also encompassed Sylvia, who seemed indifferent to everything around her, but who Julia had to admit was quite attractive, with reddish-blond hair and blue eyes. She remembered seeing her several years ago, but the families did not live within walking distance, and Sylvia had eventually gone away to school. Julia felt an initial aversion to her and tried to remember what it was about her she found unpleasant. However, her eyes kept returning to Philip as the five made their way to the summer parlor. Have you been riding long? she asked, directing her question to Philip, but it was Sylvia who answered.

Philip is visiting neighbors of my parents and asked me to join him today, but the ride was longer than he initially described. Julia and her parents were not sure if this was said teasingly or if Sylvia was indeed a bit irate.

Riding is healthy for a soul, Philip answered jovially, the sun and the air breathe new life into a man. This pleased Julia greatly, as she was a lover of the outdoors.

"Well, the sun and the air breathe a windblown hairstyle into a woman," Sylvia retorted, and everyone laughed. Julia, however, was preoccupied with Philip and when the tea cart was rolled into the parlor, she immediately offered to pour.

I’ve always enjoyed riding this time of year, Catherine said.

Well, then I shall return sometime, and we’ll all take a jaunt, Philip answered, trying his utmost to be charming, which he rarely failed at where the ladies were concerned. Catherine responded pleasantly, but diplomatically avoided any true commitment to such plans. Julia answered that she thought it would be great fun. Julian was less enthralled than his daughter.

Philip looked at Julian then and the man’s gaze made him somewhat uncomfortable. Julian had never been one to look away first.

Of course, I’ve come to discuss business, Philip said quickly then, taking the teacup from Julia and handing it to Sylvia, but I’ve always found it more fun to combine business with pleasure. He was looking intently at Julia at that moment, and this did not escape his companion who complained that he’d nearly tipped the cup. He apologized to Sylvia and became the gallant escort once again, telling her that with a riding habit so lovely no one would ever notice a spot of tea even if it had been spilled. Watching his performance, Catherine was inwardly grateful that she’d never carried what she felt in her expressions.

I think that’s wise! Julia said, ignoring the rather irritable Sylvia. What type of business are you in, Sir Lambarth? Philip, knowing that he couldn’t speak of it in front of Julia and her mother, was about to reply that it would be of no interest to the ladies, but had the impression Julia would not take fondly to that.

Well, Miss Julia, I invest in profitable establishments and try to make them even more profitable, if that sounds logical. And please call me Philip. He wondered if he’d get away with such a bold move.

It does indeed, Philip, Julia replied, her eyes alight with speculation, and just then she wondered if he found her as attractive as she found him. She hoped so. After a few more perfunctory pleasantries were exchanged, Catherine offered to go find her son, Robert, as Philip had indicated he wanted him to hear about his plans as well.

And Julia, why don’t you show Sylvia the gardens and introduce her to Lauriella, Catherine said. Lauriella was the daughter of Catherine’s friend Monique, and they were visiting from France until the end of July. Julia was inwardly annoyed at being pushed into entertaining Sylvia, when she’d much rather stay in the room with Philip and learn about his business endeavors, but she ultimately did as her mother asked. A few moments later, Robert entered the parlor and Philip recalled that he was Catherine’s son from her first marriage, which, interestingly, had been to Julian’s twin brother.

In the mid-1640s, when the English Civil War was spiraling to its catastrophic conclusion, Julian’s brother, Robert, had married Catherine Trefelner, who at that time was a villager of no means, living with her siblings and their father, the latter of whom was a fanatical Puritan. The marriage caused quite a stir, but no one could have predicted the chain of dramatic and tragic events it set off, which eventually had their effect on every member of the family. Later, Catherine married Julian and her brother Christopher married Julian’s stepsister, Kerensa. This created a strong union between the families, and the Bradshaws and Trefelners had considerable wealth and power in the area, managing three prosperous estates between them. This got the attention of Philip’s covetous streak: he believed that anyone with wealth and power would always want more.

I heard that you’d gone to London for a spell, Robert said to Philip when they’d greeted each other after the women left the room.

Well, that’s why I’m here. That’s where the business interest is, although I do plan to be in Cornwall occasionally.

I must admit I’m curious, Julian said. I’m not actively looking for investments now, as the estates have fared…well, let’s just say we’ve done well since the war. But I’m always interested to hear of any new opportunity that’s appropriate.

Anything that’s profitable is appropriate, wouldn’t you say?

I wouldn’t go that far, Julian replied, beginning to feel somewhat uneasy about what the man might be proposing.

Well, I must tell you, it’s probably not something you’d want the women to know about, but the Lazy Cat and the Bonaventure came up for sale last month. The owner returned to France and is selling off his business interests in London. Years ago, gaming houses were added, and they’re currently thriving to the fullest. You know such places popped up everywhere after the Restoration, and these are some of the city’s most lucrative.

It was true that after King Charles II was invited to England to restore the monarchy, entertainment became almost as important as food and water. For over a decade prior, England had languished under Oliver Cromwell’s Puritanism, during which time all theaters were closed and any form of entertainment, however mild, was considered sinful. England, finally, had had enough of it and the pendulum swung in the extreme opposite direction following the Restoration.

It’s not every day that some come up for sale that are thriving this way, Philip continued, but apparently the man is ill and can’t devote time to their maintenance. It’s not just anyone a person can put in as manager with such businesses, either. You can understand why, of course, Philip said.

I certainly can. Those are houses of ill repute!

I never imagined you sounding so sanctimonious. It’s not as if you’d have to patronize the establishments. Certain men are going to frequent such places regardless of who owns them, so what’s wrong with using that to our advantage?

I should hope the need for riches would never drive me to invest in brothels. Can you imagine a man’s reputation should it ever come to light that that’s how some of his wealth was acquired? No, it’s bad business all the way around. I wouldn’t be interested.

Julian thought with irony that Philip had not turned out much differently from his father, Damien, who Julian knew very well. Damien Lambarth was, like Julian, in his late fifties, but was a notorious philanderer and gambler and rumor had it that he’d driven the Lambarth’s estate into the ground and was now failing physically, some speculated from a tendency to over imbibe. Julian thought that perhaps this business venture was Philip’s desperate attempt to regain some money and power in the region.

Well, let’s not be hasty, Philip said immediately. Just think about what you’re saying. He was prepared for some backlash but didn’t think his proposal would be flatly turned down within mere moments.

After all, there are ways to obscure ownership and make it very difficult for anyone to determine who’s involved in the operations, he continued. I have someone standing by to sign the papers and be the, well, front man, so to speak, and for a small fee he would…

Sorry to disappoint you, Julian cut him off firmly, but that type of business does not interest me.

Without even thinking about it? That quickly you’re willing to throw profits away? What about your family? What kind of a provider are you?

An honorable one I should hope. I don’t want to leave money to my children from that kind of venture. Not to mention my wife’s son here would be saddled with it when I’m called from this world. No. I’m sorry, man. I can’t be part of it, he said with a finality that Philip knew would be unaltered by further conversation. But please attend our ball tomorrow evening. We’re having it in the honor of my wife’s friend, Comtesse Chapelle, who is visiting with her daughter Lauriella. Philip accepted with a pleasant smile, but Julian could see his anger simmering beneath the amiable façade.

What do you make of that, uncle? Robert said after Philip was shown out to join Sylvia. Could the man really be roaming the countryside trying to gather money for such an enterprise?

I doubt he’ll stop now, since it didn’t go as planned here, Julian replied. Can you imagine bringing a young woman with you?

He’d hardly tell her what his endeavors are, Robert replied. I think that was to create the premise of a social call, as he inferred earlier, although I’m shocked that Oliver St. Clair would allow his daughter to keep company with a man like him, even in broad daylight.

Sometimes people don’t want to visit the sins of the father on the next generation, Julian said, and feel they must give them a chance to prove they are unlike their ancestors, but sadly, far too many turn out like bad parents if they’re unfortunate enough to have them. Naturally, such clubs make tremendous profit, but it simply wouldn’t be worth it. At least not to me. A man must be able to take pride in what he does. Also, some people–and I have a strong suspicion Lambarth is one of them–take part in such ventures to eventually blackmail certain of the patrons. You know, parliamentarians, men of the cloth, anyone whose career could be ruined by such scandal.

Yes, Robert said, "I don’t think it’s just money he wants. He wants power. Money and power. I suspect he’d try politics if his father wasn’t the owner of such a tarnished reputation."

"It will be an unfortunate day if he ever does that, but yes, his father’s reputation will indeed precede him and kill any aspirations he might have in that direction. He’s working earnestly at acquiring the same reputation himself. I was loath to invite him to the ball, but what else I could do? By the way, Lloyd Westbrook’s son, Adam, is here in Cornwall too. You’ll see that he’s invited?"

It will be my pleasure. It’s been so long since he’s been here. Not since Samantha died, I suppose, Robert replied, referring to the man’s younger sister who had drowned many years ago. Robert left the room then, just as his sister entered it, and she immediately inquired about the business. She didn’t mention to her father that she also found Philip attractive and alluring.

How did it go? Was it a success? she asked then.

Not exactly, little Julia.

I’m too old for that! I’m not little anymore.

Well, it has nothing to do with age, Julian laughed, but rather your stature, which you certainly did not get from me...or your mother. Perhaps you are a changeling.

A changeling who serendipitously got your face. But what was it all about? I do understand some things about business, you know. Julian did know. And he knew that Julia was intelligent enough to understand; he simply didn’t feel the subject was appropriate for his seventeen-year-old daughter.

Well, it was speculative at best, and it seemed quite shaky to me. He was interested in some London businesses, but I think their risks outweigh the possible benefits.

He seems such an interesting and intelligent fellow, though, she replied.

Well, some say he’s gone the way of his father, who is not a good man. But you’ll get to see him and his companion at the ball tomorrow night. Catherine came to the parlor then and told Julia that Lauriella was looking for her, and when Julia left, asked what Philip was up to.

He wants me to join him in purchasing some of London’s most notorious brothels.

Oh, good heavens, Catherine said. Apparently, he’s his father all over again. Was he very annoyed that you weren’t interested?

He hid it well. I suppose we’ll see how he acts tomorrow night at the ball.

You invited him? she asked.

What else could I do? One must always give a gesture of good faith when a business proposition is turned down. In a way I’m glad the ball is tomorrow: we can part with painted on smiles and let that be that. Catherine agreed and commented on how so many people turn out exactly like their parents.

I just said that to your son. I suppose there’s no help for it, Julian said. Unless, of course, there’s a better, stronger influence in one’s life than the parent who’s failing as a role model, but I suspect that’s rare.

Agreed, Catherine replied, thinking of her own upbringing in a staunchly Puritan home, which her father ruled with an iron hand. Although they did not hold power long, Puritans were formidable in their day, believing that anything pleasurable was sinful. Catherine’s existence in that home, after her mother’s death, was morose. Her father had become violent more than once, and although she escaped that environment upon her marriage to Robert, the lifestyle had had its effect on her for many years after.

Look at the sky, Julian said suddenly, pulling her out of her musings.

Yes, the sun’s going down. Shall we go get ready for supper so we’re not rushing at the last minute? Julian agreed and the two headed for the main staircase.

Julian and Catherine had come through bizarre and tragic experiences together decades earlier when Julian’s twin was murdered, but rather than pulling them apart, it resulted in an unbreakable bond and strong union that nothing could hinder or obstruct. For almost a decade after they married it appeared Catherine would have no other children, but then her daughter was born in 1655 and five years later they left France to make a triumphant return with their king when England decided it had had enough of Puritanism. Catherine and Julian both had a fair amount of French blood and Catherine often told Julia that she had looked like a little French doll when they rode into London with King Charles II for the feasting and revelry that took place that infamous May 1660. Julia was a great joy to her parents, but little did Catherine and Julian know that another dramatic chain of tragic events had just been set off by what they thought was merely an inconsequential visit from an annoying man.

***

The next evening, as Briarwood’s ballroom filled up with guests, Sylvia St. Clair had the satisfied expression worn by those fully aware of being the most attractive in the room. She casually glanced at the other ladies, and seeing that she had no rivals, a tiny smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. Then she remembered Julia. She had just come into the room, looking even lovelier than she had when they were first introduced the previous day. Sylvia began seething with envy. Julia’s build was slight, but she had the most enviable form of any woman there. She was an obvious combination of her parents, ensuring she would be impossibly beautiful. She had everything: the arresting coloring of her father and the exquisite bone structure of her mother. She knew how to dress to her best advantage too. The turquoise gown against her eyes and raven hair was nothing less than exquisite, and the mischief and thoughtfulness in her expression somehow made her enchanting, romantic and elegant all at the same time. Sylvia knew at once that she was born with all the wiles most women take decades to learn and still only get half. She immediately began looking for Philip, who, quite naturally, was staring in Julia’s direction. She wondered if he’d met Julia before the two visited the Bradshaws. Well, she would have none of that. If Philip wanted to marry her, there was going to be no contact with the dazzling Julia from the moment they were betrothed. She is likely the only rival for me in the whole of England and here she is in Cornwall, mesmerizing my beau.

Julia, unaware of the bubbling cauldron in Sylvia’s brain, was all impatience to speak to her friend, Lauriella. She told Lauriella that Philip had been invited to the ball and said that she hoped he would ask her to dance that night.

Everyone will ask you to dance, Lauriella replied, throwing her golden-brown hair behind her as she had a habit of doing when the weather was warm.

But you must meet Philip, Julia said. I don’t know what the business was because that part didn’t go very well. My father didn’t consider it. I hoped he would.

When you don’t even know what it was? Lauriella cried.

Oh, not for that. Just so I could see Philip again. He was so handsome and spoke just like a London man. He seems far more sophisticated than the men around here. Of course, he had Sylvia St. Clair with him as he does tonight.

Does your disparaging tone have something to do with her, or merely that she’s Philip’s companion? Lauriella teased.

Well, a bit of both, I suppose, Julia admitted. Earlier today I was trying to remember what I didn’t like about her; it was that she always gave me the impression that she was, well…a frightful snob, and the girls laughed. I think it’s because she’s an only child and was given everything she wanted. She’s been away at school from what I’ve heard but it didn’t seem to put a very polite polish on her. She was a bit prickly at tea yesterday.

She is attractive, though, Lauriella said. Did you see her gown?

Yes, Julia sighed. I think it’s a prettier color than mine.

Not really. It’s not just about colors, it’s about which ones look best on people. The turquoise is perfect with your hair. Lauriella was an avid painter and sketch artist and had a great eye for color and fashion. Julia nodded absentmindedly, but still she searched the room for Philip.

Will you dance with anyone but Jaquet tonight? Julia teased her friend then.

Not if I can help it, Lauriella replied with a giggle. Lauriella’s mother, Monique, had known Catherine in their youth amidst the tragic circumstances surrounding Catherine’s first marriage, and the two maintained their friendship after reuniting during The Exile. Accompanying them on their visit to Briarwood was the young man, Jaquet Heroux, who had come ostensibly as a chaperone since Monique’s husband could not make the trip, but who Julia quickly realized was Lauriella’s beau. At sixteen, the girl was unlikely to become formally engaged, but it was clear that Jaquet was her intended. Eventually the girls were whisked off by some other friends to hear their stories and speculations about the future.

***

The atmosphere in the ballroom was jovial, and happy chatter and the occasional trill of laughter floated around the room. Adam Westbrook surveyed the scene before him, wondering to himself when he might run into some of the old friends he knew from Cornwall when he suddenly heard someone call to him. Westbrook! I’m surprised to see you in this part of England, the man exclaimed as Adam turned to greet him. How fares your father?

I’m afraid he’s passed away, Lord Eastman, Adam replied, recognizing an old friend of his parent’s. He would have been pleased to see you again, though, were he here.

Sorry to hear it, man. Your parents were always favorites of mine. What brings you to Cornwall?

I heard through my solicitor there were several properties languishing here that no one seemed interested in. I suppose one could say it’s a passion of mine to restore such places to what they once were, so I thought I’d come take a look. I’ve opened up our old country estate, Whitecliffe, and I’m staying there while I see what I can discover about the properties. My father knew Lord Bradshaw years ago and when they heard I was here, his nephew Robert invited me. Looks to be an interesting party underway here. I always feel awkward at these things, though. You’d think by twenty-eight I’d be passed all that.

The older man laughed. I’ll tell you a secret. We none of us ever feel comfortable asking the ladies to dance. I’m afraid the discomfort does not decrease with age.

Adam was amused and nodded his head. Lord Eastman excused himself then and Adam walked over to some of the younger men he remembered from his youth in Cornwall. They were pleased to see him and soon a lively conversation was underway. One of them asked him why he hadn’t married yet and he replied that he would do so only when he could solve the mystery of the female mind. Robert joined them then, and upon hearing Adam’s perspective, informed him he would likely be an eternal bachelor.

Yet you are about my age, Robert, Adam said, and still free as a gypsy.

Ah, but a young lady has Robert’s heart, one of the others said. He needs the nerve to ask her to marry him. The Spanish girl over there, Angelina Mateo. She’s standing next to Emily Marston. You remember Emily from our youth, don’t you Adam?

Yes, a nice girl, Adam answered, having a vague recollection of a pleasant young girl with a pretty smile who the younger boys occasionally teased during his summers in Cornwall.

There is Angelina now, Robert said, nodding his head in her direction. She had a decidedly Spanish look about her, with hair so dark that, when seen in that part of England, typically indicated foreign blood. She also had deep brown eyes that Robert thought were hypnotic the first time he’d seen her.

Very lovely, Adam replied sincerely, as Julian walked over to say hello to the men. Adam! Very nice to see you again, although looking at you now I’m suddenly feeling quite old. I think you were barely out of the school room the last time you were here. Was it fair weather for the journey from London?

When no answer came, Julian looked at the man, realizing that something or someone had the whole of his attention and he’d failed to hear the question. The guests were called to the main hall for supper then, but Adam’s gaze did not waver. Someone had his concentration and he felt powerless to look away. A slight, delicate looking woman with a fair complexion, raven hair and a dazzling smile commanded his attention, and the nearer she got the more fixated he became. Her eyes were deep bluish green, and she wore a turquoise gown with a string of malachite stones around her neck. Her whole being seemed to sparkle, but not from the jewels, rather from something deep within. He kept staring, wondering how this ravishing creature had suddenly emerged from a group of ordinary looking ladies. I must get hold of myself. I’m being ridiculous. Yet still he did not look away. He had never seen a woman as devastatingly beautiful as her, and thought she had the aura of a slightly wicked fairy princess. He watched her walk among the guests, with an almost studied grace that he later discovered was a trait of her mother’s, whether learned or inherited by Julia no one really knew. She bestowed her mischievous smile on virtually everyone as she floated through the room. Adam was aware of his rapid heartbeat and eventually became utterly dismayed with himself for not being able to control his response. He’d never reacted that way to any woman. There was some enchanting quality about her that he could not fully identify.

So, this is the Adam who can’t be bothered with women and was more interested in houses? One of the younger men said, giving him a shove, and yet Adam still could not take his eyes off the person who had so quickly made him speechless. The other men followed his gaze to Julia, who was now making her way toward the main dining hall with several friends, and they smiled among themselves, as if sharing a secret joke.

Adam, Robert said, with a mischievous smile, I think you should tear your gaze away from my uncle’s daughter and answer his question. Robert left with the others then, who were still grinning at Adam’s starstruck reaction to Julia. It took only a moment for Robert’s remark to register, and Adam whirled around. I…apologize…Lord Bradshaw…I’m afraid I didn’t hear the question. Please excuse me. Your…your daughter is very lovely. I was…I think…

A bit distracted? Julian answered, wryly. Tis a common male affliction when she enters a room. I asked if it was fair weather for the journey from London.

Oh. I’m sorry, yes, it was. At least I think, he said, fighting the urge to search the crowd again for Julia. He suddenly felt that she would simply disappear into the air and never return.

Maybe we should go into dinner, Julian said, now deliberately controlling his laughter.

Did they call then? Well, of course they did. Yes, let’s go, Adam replied, inwardly horrified at himself for behaving like a besotted schoolboy. And in front of the girl’s father no less! Now somewhat out from under the spell that had momentarily frozen time, he searched Julian’s expression for signs of annoyance, but seeing the twinkle in his eye decided that perhaps he was on safe ground for the time being. He did realize, however, that the man was probably a formidable foe to those who took a wrong step and assumed that this would be particularly true where his daughter was concerned. He looked at him for a moment longer and Julian wondered what he was thinking.

If you don’t mind me saying so, Lord Bradshaw, she favors you quite a bit.

It doesn’t take most people very long to notice it. When she was a babe, I wanted her to have the look of her mother, but when you see so much of yourself in a child, well, it becomes difficult to wish it were otherwise. Adam agreed and changed the subject to his interests in London, thinking it a safer topic than the man’s daughter.

I found that in running a substantial estate, it becomes essential to find appropriate managers for one’s smaller properties, Adam said. If I do acquire these Cornwall homes, I think I will bring someone from London to do so. Or perhaps you could direct me to some competent man around here.

I know of some, Julian said, but alas they’re already spoken for, and I think are working to their capacity at present. Estate managers with just the right touch are not easily come by. I would lay my money on London for a thing like that if I were you. He looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. I wasn’t much older than you when I found myself sole owner of my family’s estate. It came easy to me, though. I think it does to you too from what you’ve said so far. Am I correct?

It does indeed. I enjoy it, Adam replied. Was there much to repair after you returned from France?

Cromwell’s soldiers didn’t do great damage to the actual structures here and at Grantley, but of course the gardens were dug up and the beautiful landscapes ruined. We quickly set that to rights, though. I wish my brother, Robert, had been here to celebrate the Restoration with us.

Yes. I remember hearing of it. He died long before we left for London when Samantha drowned. It was difficult coming back here to the scene of her death, as I suppose it was for you regarding Robert’s when you returned after The Exile.

It was. These hard realities must be lived with but revisiting the scenes of such events is always difficult. I think it was the right thing for you all to get away to London after Samantha’s tragedy. If there was not already the shadow of exile over our heads when Robert was killed, it’s likely what we would have done for a spell. Of course, we had our involuntary sojourn in France until England came back to sanity. By then much of the pain had faded, but when we first returned to Briarwood, oh how the memories descended!

As much as we know such tragedies occur, we’re never quite ready for them when they happen, are we? Adam replied.

No indeed, Julian answered, and just then Adam was called off by another guest who recognized him.

I like that young man, Julian said to Catherine as she approached. I think he’ll get far in this life. It looks like many people here remember him from his youth. The Westbrooks are certainly quality. Adam’s father was a very reputable man as I recall. They spent summers here before that tragic drowning, remember? And then Lady Westbrook refused to ever return to Cornwall.

A mother’s worst nightmare, Catherine said sadly. They said she didn’t fare well after that and died shortly thereafter. ‘Tis so sad. Now Adam has lost his father too. Does he plan to settle back here and live at Whitecliffe?

I don’t think permanently, but he seems very interested in acquiring some Cornwall properties.

Oh, then he must be the young man Robert mentioned earlier today. He was speaking of someone who loves to restore old homes and other structures. I could see where that would be fascinating work.

And expensive. Westbrook must have left him well provided for. At least it seems he has a head on his shoulders to manage it well. That certainly can’t be said for all young men.

Agreed, Catherine replied, and they made their way to their seats.

Robert had asked Adam to sit at the main table with the family, as he was interested in hearing about the properties he wanted to purchase. Adam found himself tearing his eyes from Julia again and again and told himself that he could not sit there staring at her throughout the meal, but it was proving more difficult than he’d imagined. She literally glowed from the inside with something he could only describe as an inner vitally that simply burst through her skin. He remained fascinated throughout the supper hour, although later he could not have told anyone what was said.

So, you do this work yourself? Or at least some of it? Robert was asking then, and Adam came back through the haze of his reverie to the table’s reality.

Well, I’ve completed two so far, and the restorations went beautifully. However, I’m not sure that had anything to do with me being there, but perhaps it did. I simply love to be involved in it. I don’t care to just see the finished work; I truly enjoy watching the transformation day by day as it goes along. Of course, time will not always allow that, but I would love to do that with a few properties here in Cornwall. That old Clavering Hall has wonderful possibilities, and then there is Ranshaw Court, which I don’t think did well after the Civil War.

No, it went into decline quickly. The owners left to refugee to France like so many of us, but I believe they waited too long, Julian said. After the Restoration none of the family ever returned and the place fell into decay. It was believed that they did not get away after all. I acquired several similar properties after the war since I’d promised land and homes to faithful servants who helped us preserve ours. I also purchased one for Catherine’s youngest brother, Matthew, which he’s running very efficiently now. Falcon Court, he named it. I really had no desire to obtain more, but something should be done with them. Maybe I’ll consider it in the future. I’ll be glad if you make something of those two you mentioned.

The conversation continued and when Monique said something, her accent reminded Adam that she was the French woman they’d spoken of earlier.

You are Comtesse Chapelle, Adam said, turning to Monique then, You must forgive me, but you are visiting from France, correct? Monique replied that she was, and Adam asked her, Have they indeed restored parts of the Notre Dame Cathedral Towers?

Yes, Monique replied, they did some beautiful work on one of the towers and a courtyard. I wish you could come and see it, Catherine, it looks better now from what you would have remembered.

You went to France before The Exile, Lady Bradshaw? Adam asked.

Yes. Once when I was a child, and then once as a young woman after the death of my first husband. I was Monique’s companion for some time before I returned to England, and we met up again once we exiled back to France. Fortunately, we never allowed the association to lapse. Although I must admit it’s always the Chapelles who travel here to visit with us, rather than the other way around.

That’s because there is not such a restful place in the entire world as Cornwall. Who would not prefer to come here? One can’t help but love it for the very softness of the air and the eternal feeling of spring, Lauriella said suddenly. "Perhaps we will have to refugee here if this current war gets worse." She was speaking of the Franco-Dutch war that was raging between France and the Netherlands.

Good heavens, it has not escalated to that level yet has it? Julian asked.

Jaquet responded then and said, "No, and I don’t believe it ever will, but I’m