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Two hourson the train and another taxi ride later, I arrive in the small village of Hartley Wells, which is right out of a picture postcard: charming village green, small stores, a local pub… The house Sebastian has been paying for is a few miles past the village, on a winding country road with no neighbors to be seen. It’s a pretty cottage, set back from the road down a winding path, but still, I feel a flicker of trepidation as the taxi drives away, leaving me alone. It’s a cloudy, overcast day, and I’m in the middle of nowhere, about to walk into who knows what.
Just what is Sebastian hiding away out here?
It could be a secret family, an illegitimate child… or something far more dangerous. I’m taking a huge risk just showing up like this, but I remember what brought me here, and why.
Vengeance.
I have to be as ruthless as Sebastian if I’m going to destroy him. There’s no room for fear and emotion.
Or desire…
I shake off that unwelcome thought and approach the front door. Bracing myself for what may be behind it, I knock.
There’s silence.
I try again, louder.
Still nothing.
Hoping that this hasn’t all been a waste of time, I skirt around the house, peering in windows. I see pretty, country-style furnishings, but no sign of life inside, so I unlatch the gate and step into the backyard. I can see here that the house backs onto open fields, with some stables a short distance away.
There’s a woman there, grooming one of the horses.
This is it.
I take a deep breath and approach her. She’s so focused on her task, she doesn’t notice me coming closer, and I have plenty of time to take her in.
She’s young, in her late twenties maybe, with dark hair in a braid, and dressed down in muddy boots and an oversized knit sweater.
My boots squelch in a puddle, and she jumps, turning. “You scared me!”
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly.
“Can I help you?” the woman asks, looking at me warily.
“Umm…” My mind is blank, and I realize, I don’t have much of a game plan now that I’m here. I didn’t know what to expect, so I couldn’t really prepare.
So, I go direct. “I need to talk to you about Sebastian Wolfe.”
In an instant, the wary look is replaced with a wry smile. The woman laughs, patting the horse. “What’s my brother done now?”
I blink at her in shock.
“Brother?” I echo, my mind reeling.
“I’m his little sister.” She wipes off her hand, and holds it out to shake, smiling brightly. “Scarlett Wolfe.”
20
AVERY
Sebastian’s sisterisn’t dead.
I can’t believe it.
Scarlett invites me in for tea, and I follow her to the house, my mind racing. I go back over our conversations, the way he talked about her in the past tense, went along with me when I assumed she’d passed away…
But he never said that she’d died.
