Free A Stranger's Kiss by Rosemary Smith

among grass and bracken. I’d never seen a church so tiny.
    ‘There’s no graveyard,’ I said to Abraham.
    ‘No, these churches were built for worshippers in remoter parts of the countryside. The mother church of St Winwalloe on the Lizard had the rite of burial, but there is a font for baptism here,’ he told me.
    The older Mr Tremaine was certainly a very interesting man to talk to and I started to wonder what tragedy had befallen his beautiful wife and Violet’s mother.
    After the service in the dimness of the quaint little church I was thankful to step out into the sunlight.
    ‘Take Michael’s arm,’ Abraham instructed me with a wink. I smiled for I could see for sure that the Master of Ravensmount acknowledged that a relationship was forming between his younger son and their guest.
    Michael must have heard for he offered the crook of his arm which I took with much happiness and willingness. All the way back Violet danced around us, preventing us from any lucid conversation.
    As we neared the gates to the drive Abraham spoke sharply to her. ‘By my side at once, young woman!’ His words and the way he spoke them broached no argument. Violet did as she was bid with a torrent of tears and protestations. She was definitely unstable I mused, and wondered if she had always been like it.
    ‘I have the key,’ Michael practically whispered to me. ‘We will head straight for the north tower.’
    We quickened our steps, and on reaching the tower door Michael produced the key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock which turned very easily, and lifting the latch the door swung quietly back on its hinges. There was a flight of narrow winding stone steps which we ascended in single file, Michael going in front of me.
    It was necessary to lift my skirts up at the front and with no handrail my heart thudded, fearing I may fall. Eventually we stood on a cold stone landing two doors facing us. Michael opened the first one on our left which was but a dark cubby hole festooned with cobwebs and caused me to think of the spider’s web.
    From here the sound of the ravens was very close, we could hear them crying harshly and flapping their wings.
    ‘Nothing of note in here,’ observed Michael after he had peered into the darkness. ‘It’s a long while since I’ve been up here. Now let us try the other door which I believe should open with the same key as the door below.’
    As he spoke he turned the key in the lock, and sure enough the heavy oak door swung back with ease. By now my heart was pounding. Michael caught hold of my hand and with him by my side I tentatively stepped into what was a large room with three windows, one to the front and one each side, but disappointingly the room was empty. My heart sank, so this theory of mine was vanquished also.
    Dust lay on the wooden floor, but here and there it had been disturbed, perhaps by a footstep? I asked myself.
    ‘I know you are disappointed, Sara,’ my companion began, ‘but all is not lost, for I can see that a path leads to the main window. Someone has been here quite recently, look,’ he urged me. I could see what he meant and we followed the vague footsteps to the window.
    ‘Oh my goodness,’ I said, ‘what an absolutely magnificent view.’
    ‘Yes, it is rather beautiful isn’t it,’ Michael replied. From here, for as far as the eye could see, was a view out over the sea and cliffs. ‘And if you come to the window on the right,’ he continued taking hold of my hand, ‘you will see the chapel we were at this morning.’
    As I looked I could see he was right, the building was like a dot on the landscape sheltered by the surrounding green fields. It was then we spotted Violet walking across in our direction. As we saw her she looked up and no doubt would have seen us just as I’d seen the face at the window the other day.
    ‘Oh no,’ groaned Michael, ‘she’s heading this way and I have left the door below unlocked. No matter, we will bluff our