Читать книгу Christmas With The Duke - Katrina Cudmore - Страница 11

THE FOUR-BY-FOUR SLEWED towards the hedge on the narrow road. Tom steered into the skid, feeling the car scraping against brambles and seeing a shower of snow thumping against the side windows before he finally managed to bring the vehicle to a stop.

He switched off the engine. The fresh snow on the side of the vehicle slid to the road with a thud and then there was nothing but absolute silence. Nothing stirred. Not a single bird was to be seen in the early-morning milky blue sky. Not a cry nor a bleat from an animal. It was as if the earth was having a sleep-in, having exhausted itself in the intensity of the snowstorm that had hit the east coast of Ireland the previous night.

Below him in the valley the vibrant emerald fields of Loughmore had disappeared under a blanket of sparkling white snow. Switching the engine back on, he crunched his way through the snow-covered perimeter road of the estate, where the high limestone wall to his right marked the boundaries with the neighbouring farms. After a few minutes he finally caught a glance of his last destination for the morning: Butterfly Cottage.

It was nestled in a copse, and he could just about make out its thatched roof beneath the snow.

He drove down the long incline into the heart of the valley, the four-by-four skidding on the more sheltered parts of the road. Last night, the initial flourish of snow had frozen hard, to be followed later by a heavier and more prolonged snowfall.

At the cottage, the garden gate refused to budge, so he had no option but to leap over the low wall that surrounded the property, built to stop the estate’s cows and sheep from wandering into the garden.

On the other side of the wall he muttered to himself as he landed into a particularly deep snow drift and snow flooded the inside of his wellington boots.

His knock on the rose-pink-painted cottage door echoed into the valley. He had to knock a second and then a third time before the door swung open.

Dressed in a fluffy yellow dressing gown, her hair mussed up and her cheeks pink, Ciara stared at him through sleepy eyes. ‘Tom... I mean, Your Grace, what are you doing here?’ Then, pausing, she peered over his shoulder. ‘Oh, my God! I can’t believe how much snow there is.’

Her eyes grew wide and her gaze shot back to his.

‘My alarm didn’t go off! I slept in! I’ll be up at the gardens as soon as I can. I know snow was forecast, but I hadn’t realised so much would fall. I don’t usually work on a Sunday, but I would have been up inspecting the gardens earlier if I had known.’

‘I’m not here because I expect you to be at work.’

‘Why are you here, then?’

‘The electricity in the castle went out overnight. The emergency generator took over—’

Ciara interrupted him, her expression alarmed, ‘Were the outside buildings affected? The greenhouses?’

‘No, they’re all okay.’

She gave a grateful exhalation and then with a deep shiver added, ‘It’s Baltic out here—come inside before we both perish.’

The living room of the cottage was directly inside the front door. A Christmas tree, laden down with decorations, sat in one corner. Christmas cards were strung over the mantelpiece, and an array of angels and Santa Clauses and reindeers were spread on every other available surface.

Moving over to the small cottage window overlooking the front garden, Ciara leant down and propped her elbows on the deep windowsill. She shook her head as she stared at the wintry scene outside. ‘I have never seen so much snow. Thank God we covered some of the more vulnerable plants with fleeces.’

There was a light switch to one side of the front door. Tom switched it to on. The brass light at the centre of the room remained unlit.

Ciara gave a groan. ‘Oh, seriously... No wonder my radio alarm didn’t go off.’

‘You’re not the only one. I’ve called in to all the other estate cottages this morning to make sure everyone is okay—several others are without electricity too. You’re the last on my list, being the furthest out. I’d hoped you wouldn’t be affected too.’

Ciara looked at him in surprise. ‘You’ve called in to every cottage? How did everyone react?’

Now that he thought about it, his arrival had caused a certain level of consternation in each of the cottages. ‘They were a little thrown, I suppose. What’s the problem with me calling?’