The sound and sudden motion set a score of rooks wheeling and cawing furiously from the clump of tall elms. The birds’ mournful croaking sounded harsh and ominous, providing a perfect complement to the Honourable Amelia Colinbroke’s bleak mood. She turned to watch the towers of Hope Hall slowly disappear from sight through the small back window of the Reverend Dawes’ carriage. The irony of Amelia’s situation did not escape her. Only a few hours previously she had been longing to escape from that infamous place, and now her wish had been granted. The Gothic shape of the west tower was the last part of the Hall to disappear behind the rhododendron bushes that lined the drive. Amelia was not sorry she had never found out exactly what happened in that ancient keep. There were still some secrets that, as far as she was concerned, Hope Hall was quite welcome to guard from her forever. Even passing through the iron gates in the great wall that encircled the park did nothing to lift Amelia’s spirits.
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