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“Move it!”
They stared, immobile.
Charlotte pursed her lips. Maybe she needed to speak their language.
"Alright,you lot," she said firmly, pointing down the road. "I need you toclear offand let me pass, please. Now, be good sheep and move along."
To her surprise, the woolly horde began to part slowly, as if considering her request. A bemused smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she watched the animals finally shuffle off the road, allowing her access once more.
"Thank you," she called out with a chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. Returning to the driver's seat, she felt a sense of accomplishment – not only had she managed to overcome her initial fears of driving in a foreign country, but she had also successfully negotiated with a flock of uncooperative sheep.
"Unbelievable," she murmured with a grin, shaking her head. With a sigh of relief, she eased the car back onto the roadway, carefully navigating around the lingering sheep who cast curious glances in her direction.
The countryside scenery provided a pleasant distraction for Charlotte, easing her nerves bit by bit as she grew more comfortable with the foreign driving conditions. The verdant landscape stretched out on either side of the road, punctuated by the occasional charming cottage or grazing livestock.
"Can't believe I'm actually doing this," she mused, feeling a giddy surge of pride at her newfound confidence.
As the miles slipped away beneath the tires, Charlotte's anticipation began to rise once more. She would soon be meeting Agnes, her cousin, and an important connection to the past she was so eager to uncover. Thoughts raced through her mind – would Agnes be welcoming? Would she be able to shed light on the mysteries that had drawn Charlotte to Chesham Cove in the first place?
Before she knew it, Charlotte found herself turning onto a narrow gravel driveway lined with wildflowers that danced in the gentle breeze. The car rolled to a stop in front of a quaint stone cottage nestled among lush gardens. A warm, inviting glow emanated from the windows, beckoning her inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Charlotte's hands trembled slightly as she stood at the gate, her eyes taking in the cozy cottage nestled in the lush countryside of Chesham Cove. The fragrance of wildflowers permeated the air, a soft melody of birdsong filling her ears. This was Agnes Darling's home, the woman who held the key to unlocking a part of Charlotte's past that had been hidden from her for far too long.
With a deep breath, she pushed open the creaking gate and walked up the stone pathway toward the front door. The rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath her feet seemed to mark her journey toward understanding – an understanding of her estranged father, Henry Anderson.
As she raised her hand to knock on the door, she felt a mixture of anticipation and apprehension fluttering in her chest. She knew that this conversation might unravel secrets long buried, but it was a risk she was willing to take.
No sooner had her knuckles rapped against the wooden door, it swung open to reveal Agnes, her warm smile as inviting as the golden sunlight bathing the countryside. "Charlotte! How lovely to finally meet you," Agnes exclaimed, reaching out to envelop her in a welcoming embrace.
"Thank you for having me," Charlotte replied, her voice wavering slightly with nerves as she followed Agnes inside.
"Of course, dear. I'm so glad you came. Would you like a cup of tea?" Agnes asked, motioning toward the kitchen where a pot was already steaming on the stove.
"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Charlotte answered, grateful for the familiar ritual. As she took a seat at the small wooden table, her mind raced with questions, her heart aching for answers.
Agnes poured two cups of tea, the fragrant steam spiraling upwards as she handed one to Charlotte. "I hope you don't mind Earl Grey," she said with a gentle smile.
"Earl Grey is my favorite," Charlotte replied, cradling the warm porcelain in her hands. She took a sip of tea and closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the familiar taste to ground her. This was the beginning of a conversation that might lead to life-changing things. And though she was uncertain of what lay ahead, she knew that she couldn't turn back now.
"Charlotte, I know you must have a lot on your mind," Agnes began softly, acknowledging the weight of their meeting, "I'm here to help you in any way I can."
"Thank you, Agnes," Charlotte murmured, her voice filled with gratitude and hope. The road to understanding her father's mysterious past might be long and winding, but at least now, she had an ally by her side.
"Come, let me show you the living room," Agnes said, her warm smile never leaving her face as she led Charlotte down a narrow hallway. The scent of lavender filled the air, mingling with the lingering aroma of Earl Grey tea that still clung to their fingertips.
As they entered the cozy space, Charlotte's gaze immediately fell upon the walls adorned with family photos. The faces of Agnes's son and daughter smiled back at her.
"Your children are beautiful," Charlotte remarked, her eyes scanning each photo in turn, searching for any resemblance to her own features.
"Thank you," Agnes replied, her expression tender as she followed Charlotte's gaze. "That's my son, Harold, and my daughter, Emily."
"Harold is an architect," Agnes shared with a hint of pride in her voice, pointing toward a picture of a tall, dark-haired man holding a blueprint. "He helped design some of the restored buildings in Chesham Cove's town center."
"Really?" Charlotte asked, her interest piqued. She had always admired the quaint charm of the town's architecture, and discovering this connection to her newfound family made it all the more special.
"Emily, on the other hand, is a botanist," Agnes continued, gesturing to a photograph of a woman with long, wavy hair, surrounded by lush greenery. "She travels the world, studying rare plants and their medicinal properties."
