Free Frost Hollow Hall by Emma Carroll Page B

too?’ he said.
    ‘Ta, but we’ll walk,’ said Will.
    I stopped dead in my tracks. ‘You in’t coming with me!’
    ‘Oh yes I am,’ Will said, tucking his arm through mine. ‘I know them down there, remember?’
    I yanked my arm free. ‘And a fat lot of help it was last time.’ I turned to the driver. ‘Thank you. A ride would be grand.’
    Will frowned. ‘Now just a . . .’
    ‘I’m going by myself,’ I said, firmly.
    Will gave me a long look. Then, without so much as a goodbye, he turned smartly on his heel. I felt a strange pang as I watched him go, like he was my last link with home and I’d not been quite fair with him. Moments later he was out of sight completely.
    There wasn’t time to fret. The driver had already pulled the gates almost shut and was waiting for me to join him. I grabbed my skirts and squeezed through the gap. He heaved the gates shut behind us. My heart began to thud.
    ‘All aboard then,’ said the driver.
    I climbed into the trap and had barely sat down when the cart shot forward, flinging me backwards. We set off at a right pace. The cart spun over the packed snow, hurling me one way, then the other. I gripped the seat hard; it was all I could do to stay on board. Icy air stung my eyes, hair whipped my face. On and on we raced through a blur of trees. I gritted my teeth and hung on tight as I could.
    And then the driver heaved on his reins. The cart slowed to walking pace and stopped. Before us the road went downhill sharply and the woods gave way to grand lines of trees on either side of the drive.
    ‘There ’tis,’ said the driver, nodding into the valley. ‘The grandest house in the county.’
    I followed his gaze and gasped out loud. What an eyeful it was!
    On a day like today, the frost hollow business was as clear as anything. Already at the top of the valley the snow had started to thaw, and yet deep at the bottom everything was still thick white. Sat right in the coldest frostiest spot of all was the house itself. For the first time I got a real sense of its vastness.
    Frost Hollow Hall? Frost Hollow palace more like!
    It was shaped like a capital E with the middle bit missing. The house was made of grey stone, and was finer than any I’d ever clapped eyes on. The roof was a jumble of chimney pots and little slanty windows, all white with snow like a fairytale castle. I bet the place was full of narrow stairways and secret passages, waiting to be explored.
    Off beyond the gardens was a familiar-looking path, leading through yew trees to what had to be the family graveyard. There was no sign of Kit’s stone angel from up here, though. Everything was hidden by the dark trees.
    And where was the lake?
    I leaned forward on my seat, shivering with cold and excitement.
    There it was, set back beyond the graveyard, half screened by those great trees. It still had that dull grey look to it, like something solid and steady. Only I knew now not to be fooled.
    ‘That’s the lake, in’t it?’ I said, trying to sound casual.
    ‘Aye.’ The driver flicked the reins. We started moving again.
    ‘It won’t thaw out ’til spring,’ he said. ‘’Specially not this winter.’
    ‘And the family? What do they use it for?’
    ‘You’ll know the story. You’re a Frostcombe girl. Now leave it be.’
    I felt him staring at me. I kept my eyes on the road.
    Soon we arrived at the side of the Hall. Up close it was just as handsome. The drive had been cleared at the front of the house, so that snow was heaped up either side. There were three floors to the house, four if you counted the attics, which meant a heck of a lot of windows. Each was made of old, watery glass, split into little panes. On the ground floor the shutters were already open, though the rooms were in shadow so I couldn’t quite see inside.
    A lump formed in my throat. One day this would’ve all been Kit’s. Should’ve been.
    ‘I’m headed for the stable block,’ said the driver, cutting through my sad