The Sedgwick Curse. Shawna Delacorte

following the civil war and the ten-year period of the commonwealth. We originally had six different families living on various parts of the estate as tenant farmers. They would keep a percentage of their crops and livestock with the rest going to the estate as their rent. Of course, the land holdings are not as vast as they once were and we no longer have tenant farmers, but it’s still a very large estate by today’s standards. We own several structures bordering the village that are no longer necessary to the day-to-day operations of the estate. Most of those buildings are leased out.”

      They arrived at the third floor in the central section of the house. It was like stepping into a time warp and suddenly being whisked back several centuries. A sense of foreboding settled over her. A cold shiver moved down her spine. An impression of evil seemed to haunt the stark hallways.

      Their footsteps echoed as they walked along the well-worn hardwood floor. The stone walls lacked any feeling of warmth or welcome. Several suits of armor were on display along with shields and swords. Wall sconces were spaced at ten-foot intervals along the length of the long hallway. Taylor noted that they actually contained candles rather than electric lights. The large windows on the outer wall were devoid of any type of drapes or shutters thus allowing the daylight to stream in—the only thing to break the almost oppressive gloom that settled over everything.

      Taylor tried to break the uncomfortable silence that had suddenly surrounded them. “This certainly is quite different from my room and the downstairs area.” Another cold jolt tickled her spine.

      “This central section is the oldest part of the house. Most of the original timbered structure burned in 1726 and was replaced with this sandstone manor house. A major addition was built in the early 1890s by my great-grandfather, William. That’s the section where you’re staying. The east wing was added and most of the house modernized following World War II. My father was responsible for the most recent upgrades including the swimming pool, the improved heating system in the main part of the house and redoing the electrical wiring and plumbing.

      “The area where we are now, on the third floor, is not used for anything other than storage. There are rooms filled with relics that I suppose could rightly be on display in a museum—suits of armor, centuries-old weapons, furniture from various periods in history and even bathtubs from the time prior to indoor plumbing. But this floor doesn’t even have electricity.”

      Donovan continued the tour of the house, showing her through the kitchen and butler’s pantry, the formal dining room, which was now used only for special occasions, the snooker room, the original accounts room where the business records of the estate were kept during the time of the tenant farmers, and finally some of the other guest bedrooms. The music room and ballroom were evidence of the lavishness of parties and social gatherings of a bygone era. He did not take her into the east wing, did not show her his private living quarters or the modern offices where he conducted the current business matters of the estate. They ended the household tour in the library on the second floor.

      It was a very large, paneled room with a high-beamed ceiling. The walls were lined with bookshelves. Two long reading tables occupied a prominent place in the room. Comfortable, overstuffed chairs were located near the many windows. “This is where all the family archives are kept, at least the ones that still exist. The records that used to be in the accounts room are here, too. When the original house burned, all the records went with it. However, for your purposes, these records date back prior to the festival. I’m sure you’ll find everything you need…” His voice trailed off as he stared at her.

      “This is very generous of you, allowing a total stranger to have access to your family records.” Panic welled inside her. It felt as if the walls were closing in. As if she was about to be trapped in a centuries-old world without any means of escape. Her inner voice told her to run, to get out while she still could. Her feet were leaden, her muscles refused to function. The fear coursing through her was as much emotional as it was physical. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Then she saw him reach out toward her. Was this it? The moment her sense of reality would totally disappear?

      Donovan’s hand seemed to have a life of its own as he reached out and touched Taylor’s hair. A tightness pulled across his chest. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her lower lip quivered slightly. He drew his fingertip lightly across it. Their gazes locked as a moment of intense heat passed between them. He was not sure exactly what he felt other than the obvious, quick surge of lust and a strong desire to pull her into his arms and take complete possession of her mouth with several passionate kisses. What was there about this woman that so inflamed his normally controlled desires? What was there about her that seemed so familiar? And so troubling?

      Taylor took a step backward as she sucked in a startled gasp. She had certainly not expected him to touch her like that even though she had to silently admit to a surge of excitement when his fingertip brushed her lip. The electricity almost crackled out loud as it sizzled between them. She could not catch her breath. She didn’t know which sensation was true…the excitement or the trepidation. It had been late the evening before when she presented herself at the front door of the manor house, and in the short time since, Donovan Sedgwick had somehow managed to enfold her in a magnetic web of desire tempered with confusion and apprehension. She closed her eyes and tried to force away the strange feelings that stirred inside her.

      And now this. She was enfolded in more than his aura, yet she felt helpless to offer even the slightest of protests. It was Donovan who finally broke the spell binding them together with invisible ties.

      “The, uh, grounds. I promised to show you the immediate grounds, too.” He glanced out the window. Dark storm clouds hung low in the sky giving a menacing appearance to the countryside. The tree tops moved in the stiff breeze. “There seems to be a storm building. We’d better hurry.”

      “Yes…I’d like very much to see the grounds.” She couldn’t stop the slight huskiness that surrounded her words.

      Neither made mention of the incident in the library as they walked down the stairs, then along the hallway to the side door. They exited onto a large promenade bordered by beautifully manicured gardens on a terraced hillside. She had arrived at the estate at night and hadn’t realized that the manor house stood on a small bluff overlooking a long valley with a winding river flowing off to the horizon. The trees had turned their autumn reds and golds. It was a breathtaking sight that immediately filled her with a sense of calm and serenity.

      “This is my favorite view.” Donovan paused for a moment of quiet reverie. “In summer the sunlight lingers across the green hills and reflects golden off the river. The air is filled with the fragrance of a thousand flowers.” He took a deep breath and stared out over the valley, lost in his own thoughts—thoughts that vacillated between the serenity spread out before him, the dark malevolence of the disturbing dreams that had first invaded his sleep about a month ago and the very real passion that Taylor stirred in him.

      “I can see why you like it here. This is truly lovely.” It was a time of quiet contemplation that she found very calming after her unsettling dream the night before and the dark, almost sinister atmosphere clinging to the centuries-old house.

      Neither Taylor nor Donovan spoke for several minutes.

      “Well—” he turned toward her “—shall we continue with our tour?” He took her first to the tithe barn. “This is an exceptionally large structure for a tithe barn especially for its time period, but then it was a very large estate. The barn is 132 feet by 44 feet and is the oldest building still standing on the estate. It was constructed in 1389 and goes back to the time when all of this was church property. Ten percent of everything from all the surrounding area, usually crops, was given to the church and brought here for storage, thus the name tithe barn. In fact—” he pointed to an enclosed loft room with a window overlooking the interior of the barn “—the abbot or his representative used that room to keep an eye on everything.”

      They stepped farther into the dimly lit interior of the large stone structure. “As you can see, it’s not currently being used.” The wind whistled through the window openings. Like the third floor in the oldest part of the house, she had the feeling of being transported back to another time