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Even Arthur wasn’t here. I wasn’t sure the man had left for longer than an afternoon in two years, given that he had a space to live here and utilised it out of convenience. However, I knew he had a cottage in the upper outskirts of the village with a tenant that would need seeing to before the storm so I’d sent him away with the assurance I would be fine.
Of course, this all meant that I was completely alone in the house. If I lived in a normal, regular house, with two or three bedrooms and a nice kitchen, that would be okay.
In Arrowwood Hall, it was downright creepy.
I stepped away from the window and moved to the fire to warm myself. Despite the fact it was in that delightful crossover between spring and summer when the weather had a few perfect days, the storm had brought with it a late arctic blast, and it was absolutely freezing. The chill was only helped along by the devastating winds.
Thankfully, I was far more worldly than my aunt, and after a twenty-minute search for matches, I’d managed to get it lit.
I threw another log on the flames and wrapped my cardigan tightly around me. There were a thousand things I could do, but the weather was knocking out our already spotty internet, so that cut down my list exponentially.
A large bang came from somewhere outside. I started and drew in a deep breath that almost hurt to exhale. What was that? It was gloomy and horrible outside—I didn’t want to go out in that weather, not by myself.
Saying a prayer, I pulled up the app that controlled our security cameras and checked them, thanking God himself when I saw they were still connected. The gate that led to our private residence was banging against the stone wall.
Oh, balls.
I’d forgotten to secure it when everyone left. I couldn’t leave it banging, so I was going to have to go out there and close it. Ugh.
I went to the mudroom and bundled myself up in my wellies and the thickest waterproof coat I could find. It might even have been Aunt Cat’s, given it was a little bigger on me, but it had a string around the hood that I could use to tighten it around my face and keep the hood in place.
A brolly wasn’t going to cut it out there.
I pocketed my key and headed out into what felt rather like an incoming apocalypse. The wind had me unsteady on my feet, and it took all my effort to force my way through the torrential rain. The gravel crunched under my boots, and I almost slipped in a puddle that had formed, but somehow managed to stay upright.
This was hell.
Pure. Hell.
I made it to the gate without any major kerfuffles. Thank God. Now I just had to close it, something that was easier said than done. At least it was metal and not wood—if it was solid wood, there was no way I’d be able to battle against the gusts to close it.
It didn’t take as long as I thought it would, and I managed to get it closed, locked, and secured without any dramas.
Thank God.
Not that He was listening to me anymore. If He was, He was obviously too busy negotiating with Mother Nature to make it stop raining.
I paused before turning back to the house. There was just enough light that I could see that the road out was flooding, which meant the roads in the village would be inaccessible.
Oh, no.
I hoped nobody took too much flood damage. We were lucky to live where we did and that floods never really came too close, but not everyone was that lucky.
I would have to make sure we could donate warm meals and clothes, or money for them, when the storm cleared, even if we couldn’t access the village until the waters receded.
I gripped the sides of my hood, dipped my head, and made a run for it back inside. Stopping at the front door, I stilled, then muttered a curse. I didn’t want to walk through the house with my wet, muddy boots on—even if I attempted to clean it up, Emily would still say it was done wrong, and I’d never hear the end of it from anyone.
And no, freak storms were not acceptable excuses for staining the carpets.
I lowered my head again and ran as fast as I could. I needed to get to the back of the house, which meant I would have to go all the way around. Again, if I had a normal sized house or cottage? No problem. Arrowwood Hall? Big flipping house.
Huge flipping manor house.
I ducked under an archway that was precariously swaying in the wind and turned. I was less than one hundred feet from the mudroom door when my foot caught a loose rock that gave way under my weight. I tripped, screaming as I fell forward into a huge puddle.
