Shadows at Stonewylde - By Kit Berry Page 0,15

to be worn,’ he said, still gazing into her strange eyes and noticing how the light shining through the coloured glass was staining her silver hair and white skin a deep blood red. ‘If you discard it completely you’ll reveal the nakedness of your future.’

She frowned at him.

‘That’s very deep, Martin. Where does it come from? I don’t think I’ve heard it before.’

He tapped the side of his head and smiled faintly.

‘Must get on, Miss Sylvie – there’s lots of work to be done and I can’t stand chatting all day. The girls should’ve finished cleaning your chambers by now if you need to go and sit down.’

‘Thank you, Martin. I’ve got lots to do too.’

She carried on up the stairs knowing Martin was well aware how untrue that was – she had absolutely nothing to do. Stonewylde was running like clockwork, thanks to the efforts of Yul, Clip and the Council of Elders. Everyone worked really hard but she herself had no responsibilities. She opened the heavy door to their apartments and sniffed appreciatively at the smell of beeswax polish. A great vase of bronze chrysanthemums now stood on the table and everything was clean and very tidy. Cherry, in charge of organising the work duties for all the older teenagers who boarded at the Hall, always checked their chambers herself and ensured they’d been cleaned to perfection.

Sylvie wandered down through the rooms but there was nothing that needed doing. The beds were made and someone had lined up all the girls’ little knitted animals on the windowsill. They’d like that. She thought of them now, running and playing in the autumn woods with all the other under-eights. No chanting of times-tables for little Stonewylders, she thought gladly. Maybe she should’ve stayed and helped with the Nursery children this morning, especially if Rowan was up here at a meeting. She frowned, imagining Miranda, Maizie, Rowan and probably Dawn all at this meeting with her husband discussing the nursery education at Stonewylde, whilst she was twiddling her thumbs. Why hadn’t he told her about it?

She sat down on Celandine’s bed, with its pretty patchwork quilt and embroidered pillow-cases. She hadn’t even made these herself, still finding fine sewing a challenge after all these years. She preferred working at the loom, although they didn’t have one up here in their private rooms. Yul had said no to that, trying as ever to shield her from the simple duties every other woman at Stonewylde performed. She should’ve insisted as she enjoyed weaving, and remembered the hours she’d spent with Rosie in the early days learning the ancient skill.

Sylvie gazed at her reflection in the dressing-table mirror and realised just how pale and shadow-eyed she looked. No wonder Yul thought her fragile and in need of protection … but it simply wasn’t true. She had been ill – really very ill – when Bluebell was born four years ago. She’d suffered from severe post-natal depression, which was common enough, but this had turned into something more serious. Sylvie had developed puerperal psychosis, and she knew it was why Yul had become so ridiculously over-protective.

But the spell in the private nursing home, well away from Stonewylde and her babies, Yul and all the triggers, had sorted her out. Now she couldn’t bear to think about that period of her life, and the horrible treatment she’d undergone, without a shudder. It had been a very dark phase, but one that she’d firmly put behind her. It was just a shame that Yul seemed unable to do the same, treating her as if she were made of glass. Like every woman at Stonewylde of child-bearing age who’d either had her children or didn’t yet want any, Sylvie was fitted with a contraceptive implant. Hazel said it had the added bonus of keeping her hormones steady. She was in good health physically and there was no reason at all why she shouldn’t be working as hard as everyone else at Stonewylde.

Pulling on her cloak and determined to enjoy a brisk walk to clear these dusty old cobwebs away, Sylvie resolved to confront Yul and start the process of improving things between them. Miranda had been right last night – Yul was neglecting her whilst he worked too hard, refusing to allow her to share the burden in any way. They needed to return to a relationship based on equality. For they were the darkness and the brightness of Stonewylde, the balance that held everything together in harmony.

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