Chapter 8 Savi #2
The trees fell away to reveal a stone cottage sitting in the middle of a clearing. A pretty garden blooming with colour was cordoned off by a thigh-high wooden fence circling around it, with a sizeable tree almost butting up against a window on the first storey.
“Are we meeting someone?” she enquired, following Alex as he skirted around the house to uncover the only missing link in the fence—a curved metal gate left ajar. Around the front of the house, though, stretched a long gravel road.
“Not quite,” he told her, passing through the gate.
Savi heard the tinkle of keys as they approached the door, patiently waiting for an explanation. The front garden was even prettier than the back, swathed in hydrangeas, poppies, and dahlias. At the back, a row of sunflowers watched them, as if they too were curious as to their purpose.
The click of the lock hit her ears, and Alex opened the door.
Where the gardens were teeming with life, the inside of the house was almost bare.
But it hadn’t been bare for long, she suspected.
The pale blue rug in the living room still bore the outlines of where furniture had once stood.
Sofas on either side of the fireplace, perhaps, or a bookcase in the corner.
Three evenly spaced nails in the wall suggested artwork or photograph frames had once hung there.
“This is the gamekeeper’s cottage,” Alex announced, watching her take it in. “But he retired a few weeks ago. Moved up to Inverness to live with his daughter.” He sent her what looked to be an excited smile. “Come upstairs.”
From another man, Savi would take that to be suggestive, but his tone was far too innocent. She followed, noting a circular outline on the turn in the staircase. A flowerpot, perhaps?
When they reached the landing, her husband turned to her and put a finger over his lips.
Politely confused, Savi ensured her footsteps were light as he led her into a bedroom.
A small single bed ran under the window, but other than that it was empty—but then she realised she was looking in the wrong place.
Alex hadn’t brought her here to look in the bedroom; he’d brought her here to show her what was directly outside the window.
Owls.
Savi sucked in a silent breath as she carefully stepped closer.
In the hollow of the tree outside sat two owls, their eyes scrunched up in sleep and their feathers slightly ruffled.
She’d never seen more than the suggestion of an owl flying overhead, gone before she even realised it was there.
But here they were, utterly oblivious to her presence—and what a privilege it was to see them like this.
Their bibs were a bright, sparkling white, whereas everything from the tops of their heads to the tips of their tails was in varying shades of toasted brown.
A speckling of white feathers lay around them, each one slightly curled.
Alex leant in, lowering his voice to a whisper. “They’re barn owls. The one leaning against the tree is the male, whilst the one sitting on the ground is the female. They nested here last year too.”
Nested? “Is she sitting on eggs?!”
Alex nodded, his lips curving. “I didn’t know whether you’d be interested in drawing them—and the owlets, when they hatch.”
Damn it, here she was wanting to swoon once more. She nodded vigorously, her fingers beginning to itch with the urge to draw—or, better yet, paint.
He held out the keys to the house, their hands touching for a second longer than necessary. A quiver of longing rippled up her spine. “Come and go as you please. Let me know if you want anything carried from the castle to this cottage.”
Savi clutched them tightly, already mentally sketching the outlines.
“One other thing,” Alex’s voice broke through her planning—and her wanting.
He pulled a letter from his pocket, and her smile slipped when she recognised the handwriting.
“Your father sent us an invitation to Albie’s Christening party—and a list of people he’d like us to speak to when we’re there.
Specifically,” he began to read from the letter, “to facilitate my entry into high society. Most of them, as far as I can see, are in the business of awarding government contracts.”
She rolled her eyes. Of course they were. “Ghastly creature.”
Savi half expected a telling off, but she was both surprised and amused to see Alex’s roguish smirk. “I thought you’d enjoy going to another party.”
Her eyes blew wide with a combination of amazement and exasperation. “I just spent my morning drawing a spider. What part of my personality has led you to believe that I would enjoy spending my evening at a party?”
Alex held up his hands. “I was joking, Savi.”
“Oh.” Against her will, she could feel herself blushing. Sarcasm was a skill she had never fully mastered.
“I usually go down to London on the train,” he carried on. “Do you have any objection?”
Savi slowly shook her head as the realisation dawned on her. The sanatorium lay on the outskirts of London. She’d already been dreading going to the party, but it could serve a purpose.
“Good. I’ll arrange the transport.”
She sent him a faint smile, already concocting avenues of conversation that could lead to a visit to the sanatorium. To her mother. “I can hardly wait."