Sadly, I am NOT Mary Stewart, the creator of these lovely characters and plots...

Even so, I have managed to garner a few views and even a LOVELY comment from Question42, THANKS!

without further ado

Chapter two

Arising before the sun rose on a new day, his mind went over the incident that had awakened him during the night. In the light of day, he recalled the entreaty that had been implicit in her farewell, echoing painfully.

She had hastily inquired if there was any chance of encountering him at Ashley. As always, the thought of a denouement and a face to face encounter fueled his sense of inadequacy, as his conscience seemed to reprove him at his forwardness in continuing to encourage intimacy between he and the estate heir.

It was these feelings that fostered his repulsing of her request, resulting in the inevitable soundless wistfulness emanating from his lover's heart. Not wishing to leave her forlorn, for a brief unguarded moment he allowed her to feel the depth of his constancy and love.

There was more than enough to do around Ashley Court, and the potential of family descending added to the list of tasks, For starters, he intended to spend time later on the continuing maintenance of the cottage the Ashleys had shared after leasing the big house to the Underhills.

Doing the upkeep had been a way of reassuring himself that Bryony and her father would return to England, and of assuaging the errant loneliness that dogged his footsteps. It seemed an evermore important task than ever now that Bryony's homecoming was near at hand. A knowledge had come to him during the night of Mr. Ashley's death, saddening them both deeply.

Mrs. Henderson soon made her usual entrance into his home, with the news of Mr. Ashley's demise on her lips. Mrs. Henderson was probably the most voluble woman of his acquaintance, and years of experience had taught him how to deftly extract the information he sought, before calmly leaving her to set his home to rights as she had always done for both his family, the Vicar and even Ashley itself when necessary.

The Vicar had apparently received word from Bad Tolz, which he had passed on to those affected. The Vicar had received a full report from Dr. Gothard, who had also informed him of Miss Bryony's arrival there, and that arrangements were being made for a small service and cremation there. It was expected that she would arrive from the Continent by train and ferry sometime afterwards.

Not much was known of the circumstances surrounding Mr. Ashley's death, only that he had been apparently the victim of a hit-and-run accident, being found too late for medical assistance. It was a tragic loss that was being felt deeply amongst all those of Ashley who knew Jon Ashley to be a kind and compassionate individual.

Leaving Mrs. Henderson to her daily chores, he whistled for Shep as he stepped outdoors, heading for the dilapidated greenhouses outside the walled kitchen garden. Besides the fact that the Vicar himself might join him as he usually did when possible, as part of their shared quest to make the greenhouses a profitable paying venture, there was also the opportunity to hear firsthand what the Vicar had heard.

He found the Vicar as he had expected busy with the new tomato plants which had been started earlier in the month, and were now large enough to be tied to their canes. The

Vicar obviously believed work to be of a deeply restorative nature.

"Good morning, Vicar." he greeted the older man.

"Good morning, Rob. How are you?" Mr. Bryanston looked concernedly at him from kindly grey eyes behind wire-rimmed spectacles.

"I reckon we've all had better 'uns, hey? Mrs. Henderson told me about Mr. Ashley."

The Vicar sighed, his round serious face showing his distress, "The place will never be the same without him, it is not going to be easy for anyone to adjust to that. It will also take time to accept that he's gone."

Rob cleared his throat, which had choked up a little, thinking of the painful moments of the night, "For Miss Bryony especially, it seems to me. Have you heard from her?"

The Vicar looked at him astutely, before dropping his eyes to the fragile stems of the plants before him on the bench, "Not from Miss Bryony as of yet, but I did speak at length with Dr. Gothard, and I intend to call Mr. Emerson this afternoon to see of what assistance I can be to him."

They worked companionably until the sun had risen to its zenith in the sky, their languid conversation focusing mainly on the substantive details of the coming change of guard as it were, as the Vicar so aptly turned the phrase. They amicably decided to meet later in the orchard to continuing spraying it's apple trees. Both were hot, tiring jobs but at least in the orchard there was the potential for the rising of a breeze to stir the turbid air.

As he took the familiar shortcut back to his home, cutting through said orchard, he was surprised to see an individual leaving the churchyard, exiting unto the main road, headed for a car which was parked under some branches.

It was the sense of furtiveness in the person's movements, as if to avoid attention, that stopped Rob in his tracks and caused him to duck behind a nearby apple tree, calling Shep to him. From this distance a description was nigh impossible, but if he had to, he would say he had seen a tall, blond-haired man.

That was all, except for the fact he seemed to be carrying a small package that he quickly stored in the boot before climbing into the driver's seat and sending the powerful car on its way. Rob stood watching guardedly from his hiding place, and once it was certain the car was gone, in the direction of nearby Worcester, he strode swiftly through the churchyard and into the church.

The church atmosphere was cool and serene, the candles flickered, and for whatever reason the intruder had entered, they had seemingly not harmed the church or Ashley at large. It was an incident to store away, but it begged the question of whether the time-honoured tradition of leaving the church unlocked for the weary passerby might need to be rethought out.

Continuing on for home, Shep meandering aimlessly along behind him, he found a lunch laid out for him by Mrs. Henderson, after which he headed for the orchard.

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The tasks of the day behind him, Rob had one more duty that he performed regular as clock work, in the same fashion each night, as much a part of his routine as the task of winding his watch while he sat on the edge of his bed preparing for sleep.

After a quiet evening alone with Shep, before turning in, he shrugged his way back into his jacket, and grabbed the keys that he kept in the drawer by the sink.

Leaving his farm lights on, he headed back across to the Court, casually intent on his task of night watchman. There was nothing untoward in the orchard, churchyard, or along the banks that lay between Ashley manor and the moat itself.

Following the driveway the crossed the moat, he carefully circled the House itself, checking that every door was locked. He quietly unlocked a side door leading into the library where the most valuable items in the house were kept now in locked exhibit cases, but even as he pushed the door open he could tell not even a mouse desecrated the silence of the room.

Still, as was his wont, he turned on his torch, flickering it over the cases as he slipped silently through the darkened room. Testing the doors to the hallway completed his official business for the night, and he retraced his steps into the chilly evening, returning thankfully to his cottage, leaving the Underhills to sleep in safety within.