The Obsessions of Lord Godfrey - Stephanie Laurens Page 0,66
hour was sliding toward three o’clock, no one was surprised when Masterton rose and announced that he, too, should leave. To Mr. Hinckley, he said, “I know you would put me up, Matthew, but I need to get back to Ripon tonight.”
“Of course, Michael.” Mr. Hinckley shook Masterton’s hand. “Safe journey.”
With nods for the rest of them, Masterton left. In the front hall, he called for his horse. Minutes later, they heard the front door shut, then rapid hoofbeats faded down the drive.
Godfrey swiveled and looked out of the window. The afternoon light, while not strong, hadn’t yet started to wane. He looked at Ellie, then at Maggie and Harry. “I haven’t seen much of your park, although from the history books, I understand it’s quite extensive. I gathered there are stone pathways wending through it.” He arched his brows at Harry and Maggie. “Can I tempt you to show me the best views?”
“Of course! I’ll show you.” Maggie bounced to her feet.
“Capital idea.” Harry beamed. “I’ll come, too.”
Ellie shot Godfrey a laughing smile. “I’ll come as well.” She, too, swiveled to look out of the window at the sky. “There’s no sign of rain, and after days of being cooped up inside, we could all do with some exercise.”
Smiling benignly, Mr. Hinckley waved them away. “I’ll be in the library when you get back.” Harry rose and summoned a footman to assist his father. To Godfrey, Mr. Hinckley said, “I’ll be interested in hearing your opinion of the park, even half buried by snow.”
Godfrey tipped him a salute and followed the three younger Hinckleys into the front hall. After donning coats, scarves, gloves, and in Maggie’s and Ellie’s cases, muffs and galoshes, they left the house through a garden hall, the door of which, Maggie informed Godfrey, gave directly onto the major path that would take them all the way through the park, eventually returning them to the terrace on the other side of the house. “We can then get in through the morning room door,” she said.
Godfrey looked up at the still-clear blue sky. “How long will it take?”
“About half an hour or so,” Ellie replied.
He smiled at her and offered his arm. She looped her arm in his, and they set off, pacing along the path in Maggie and Harry’s wake.
The path proved to be solid stone, about a yard wide and firm and stable beneath a crust of lingering snow.
Maggie skipped ahead, pausing to point at a robin flitting through the trees. Harry thrust his hands into his pockets and plowed along, halting here and there to direct Godfrey’s attention to some ornamental feature—a statue standing in a grove, an urn spilling snow-crusted ivy to wreathe about the base of its pedestal.
Godfrey looked, then glanced around. “I take it the grounds were landscaped at some point.”
“In our grandparents’ time,” Ellie confirmed. “A man from Scotland came down and laid out the paths and built the bridges.”
“Bridges? More than one?”
Harry pointed. “If you peer through the trees over there, you can just make out the bridge that leads over the river and into the woods.”
Godfrey peered and spotted the dull gray of twin stone posts sitting up amid the snow, anchoring graceful stone arches that spanned the width of the river.
Harry went on, “And a little way along, we’ll come to a tributary that runs through the grounds. This path cuts across it, and the second bridge is there.”
It was as plain as the proverbial pikestaff that Harry was proud of his home; the look on his face as he trudged through the snow said it all.
As well as the expected firs and spruces, the park contained many different trees; oaks, beeches, aspens, and many more were artfully scattered in clumps and stands and strategically planted on what, in summer, would be expansive lawns. At one point, Godfrey paused and looked back at the house. “This must be very pretty in summer.”
Ellie smiled. “It’s wonderful—green and cool and restful.”
They shared smiles of appreciative understanding and walked on.
Maggie had sped around the next bend, and as Harry followed, she ambushed him with a snowball.
Harry gasped and shook the snow from his head and shoulders, then whooped and gave chase. Laughing and shrieking, the pair rushed on, over the bridge across the tributary and along the next section of path that curved through stands of winter-bare trees to eventually take them back toward the house.
Watching her siblings, Ellie chuckled. “They’ve been very restrained over the past week of being