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Chapter Twenty-Four
Granny Clove-Congreve’s Chapel
While some in Clove Lore forgot all about Storm Nora, Minty didn’t have that luxury.
‘I’ve never seen rain as heavy as this in all my life,’ she told Jowan, peering out the kitchen window.
‘You can’t see it now, neither,’ Jowan joked. Beyond the glass, the night was completely dark, and no stars or moon visible.
Minty paused at this. ‘Back in a minute,’ she said and strode out of the room. Aldous dutifully followed her in the hopes of another cheese sandwich.
Jowan sat by the Aga, pouring a fresh mug of tea from a chipped pot. He noticed the gloom outside the window lifting. Minty was switching on every light in the house, even in the empty rooms she’d turned over to the developers. Soon Jowan could make out illuminated sheets of rain immediately outside and for a few metres into the grounds.
Thunder rumbled nearby and Jowan pinched at the bridge of his nose.
‘Everything all right?’ Minty asked, barrelling back into the kitchen and making sure Aldous was safely in the room before closing the door behind her.
‘It’s this air pressure, givin’ me a headache, it is. It’ll go once the thunderclouds break.’
Minty searched in a drawer, finding everything but painkillers. ‘Would a brandy help?’
‘It’d make it worse, if anything. Come, sit down.’
Another loud rumble came from the clouds above them, so violent it seemed to stop the rain for a second.
‘I can’t sit still,’ Minty confessed, pacing to the dresser and pulling out drawers, rummaging for paracetamol she was almost sure she didn’t have.
‘You’ve lit all the lights, then?’ Jowan rose and carried a china cup and saucer to her; Minty always told him tea didn’t taste the same in a mug.
‘The whole house,’ she said, taking the tea with a distracted smile. ‘We’re supposed to be a beacon, aren’t we? We landowners?’ Minty’s voice was cynical and Jowan sniffed a laugh.
‘You certainly light up Clove Lore, Mint.’
Now Minty laughed. She gave up her search and slid the drawer shut.
‘Papa was never all that feudal, he left the villagers to get on with things, but Grandfather would host the entire village every Christmas, back when it was thriving. The whole place smelled of mulled cider and roast partridge. He’d present each of the estate’s men and all the dairy girls with a gift – very formal, I remember. They didn’t quite curtsy and bow but it wasn’t far off that kind of thing. Grandfather felt he owned a share in the whole village’s fortunes, and he was right, of course; he certainly owned all the land and cottages. Unfortunately, our family took the village down with them. Still, there’s a part ofmethat feels guilty. One rather wishes to repair some of the damage wreaked by Papa.’
Minty walked back to the aged Aga and stood with her back to it, gripping its metal rail with her free hand. Jowan followed her and took his seat again.
‘You do all you can to keep the Big House going, and the estate gardens too. Everyone sees it.’
‘And pretty soon they’re all going to see me fail. I’m no better than my old man.’
‘Hey,’ Jowan sprang up, reaching for her hand. ‘It’s far easier to squander a fortune than to make one, Mint, remember that. Raising money isn’t easy. Especially these days.’
At his touch, Minty’s teacup rattled in the saucer so loudly she had to put it down, but Jowan didn’t release her hand. In fact, seeing his effect on her made him bolder.
The first crack of lightning over their heads only served to heighten the electric tension suddenly passing between them.
‘You are the finest woman in all of Devonshire, and there’s no way I’d let you believe you’ve let any of us down. Youarea beacon, Mint. Look how everyone here moves around you like you’re the sun itself. We rely on you.’
Minty cast her eyes low and shook her head.
‘Who oversees the Christmas lights?’ he continued. ‘Who makes sure we have daffodil teas in the spring and strawberry teas in the summer, eh? You make so many things happen here.’ With these last words he unconsciously raised his hand to his heart, and Minty’s eyes followed it.
Realising what he’d done, he snapped his arm to his side once more and released Minty’s hand, but he didn’t step away. A tear rolled down Minty’s cheek and he had to ball his tattooed fist to stop himself wiping it away.
She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. ‘Goodness, look at me. What a state to get in.’ She waved the hankie as though dismissing her sadness as a silly thing, before loudly blowing her nose. Jowan smiled tenderly at the sight of her being vulnerable.
