Originally built for fortification, the restoration so in keeping, that there was nothing to choose between ancient and modern, the priest’s hole the perfect place for Eleanor’s journaling. “Oh, Matty, you made me jump.” Eleanor worried her necklace with slim fingers. Each pearl a perfect match, the strands pristine, a gift from Venice, she wore them as often as possible. Loving the way the beads warmed against her skin and retained their heat when she removed them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I called out. I keep forgetting how little sound travels here. The walls must have muffled me. God, but the meetings were tedious, and everything took such a long time, but everyone is happy. They’re going to send over the inspector, probably next week, make sure we’ve met all their requirements. Bloody nuisance, we’re doing them a favour, the place was a crumbling heap before I bought it. Have you been terribly lonely?”
