Daughters of Castle Deverill by Santa Montefiore Read Free Book Online

celebrate.’ Celia beamed, placing a hand on her stomach and sliding her bright eyes to her husband. ‘We’re both very, very
happy.’
    ‘A baby!’ Grace exclaimed. ‘How very exciting! We must raise our glasses to that too.’
    ‘Isn’t it wonderful. Everything is just wonderful,’ said Celia as they lifted their glasses in a toast.
    It was late afternoon when Kitty rode over the hills to Jack O’Leary’s house. The setting sun left a trail of molten gold on the waves as the ocean darkened beneath
the pale autumn sky. She had briefly stopped off at home to check on Little Jack, whom she had found happily playing in the nursery with his nanny. Kitty had been relieved to find her husband
Robert working in his study near by. He didn’t like to be disturbed when he was writing and she was only too happy to leave him and get away. She’d tell him about Celia and the castle
later. As she left the White House she was content that Little Jack was safe with Miss Elsie and Robert.
    In her haste to see her lover she had forgotten her hat, so that now her long red hair flew out behind her, curling in the gusty wind that swept in off the water. When at last she reached the
whitewashed cottage, she hurriedly dismounted and threw herself against the door. ‘Jack!’ she shouted, letting herself in. She sensed at once that he wasn’t there. The place felt
as quiet and empty as a shell. Then she saw his veterinary bag sitting on the kitchen table and her heart gave a little leap, for he wouldn’t have gone visiting without it.
    She ran out of the house and hastened down the well-trodden path to the beach, cutting through the wild grasses and heather that eventually gave way to rocks and pale yellow sand. The roar of
the sea battled competitively against the bellowing of the gale and Kitty pulled her coat tightly about her and shivered with cold. A moment later she noticed a figure at the other end of the cove.
She recognized him immediately, shouted and waved but her voice was lost in the din of squawking gulls squabbling about the cliffs. She strode on, leaning into the wind, brushing the hair off her
face with futile swipes. Jack’s dog noticed her first and bounded over the sand to greet her. Her spirits lifted when Jack finally saw her and quickened his pace. The sight of him in his old
brown coat, heavy boots and tweed cap was so reassuring that she began to cry, but the wind caught her tears before they could settle and whipped them away.
    ‘What’s the matter?’ Jack asked, pulling her into his arms. His melodious Irish brogue was like balm to her soul and she rested her cheek against his coat and reminded herself
that home was here, in Jack O’Leary’s embrace. Their adultery had started as a lightning strike of passion but now had become a way of life – none the less joyful for that. It was
the pearl in her oyster.
    ‘Celia has bought Castle Deverill,’ she told him. She felt him press his bristly face against her head and squeeze her tighter. ‘I shouldn’t mind, but I do.’
    ‘Of course you mind, Kitty,’ he replied with understanding.
    ‘She’s going to rebuild it and then she’s going to live there and I’m going to be like the poor relation in the White House. Am I being very unworldly?’
    ‘You’ve suffered worse, Kitty,’ he reminded her.
    ‘I know. It’s only a castle but . . .’ She dropped her shoulders and Jack saw the defeat in her eyes.
    ‘It
is
only a castle. But to you, it’s always been much more than that, hasn’t it?’ He kissed her temple, remembering sadly the time he had tried and failed to
persuade her to leave it and run off with him to America. Had it been nothing more than a castle they might have been happily married by now, on the other side of the Atlantic.
    ‘And Bridie’s back,’ she added darkly.
    ‘I know. I saw her at Mass this morning, swanking about in her fine clothes and jewellery. Indeed, she found a rich husband in America –