A Lesson in Passion: Season of Desire Part 4 (Seasons Quartet) Read Free Page B

driver flicks the reins and the pair of huge brown horses toss their heads, and begin to trot. The sleigh jerks a little as the horses find their rhythm but as soon as they have their pace, we glide over the snow and into the darkness. I sigh happily. This is very romantic, I have to admit that. The view is stunning. The moon is up and is touching the snowy mountains and the pine forests with its icy beams. The sky is a silvery grey, bright with the moonlight, but we are gliding through the cold shadows of the forest, our way lit by the now golden light of the lamps. Every now and then, the driver urges the horses on with a click and a crooning sound, and the world is quiet except for the thudding of the hooves and the hiss of the sleigh’s runners on the snow. We’re heading away from the town that’s sparkling below us, a fairyland of white-capped roofs.
      ‘It’s so beautiful,’ I say to Miles and he nods.
      ‘Aye. It makes me remember home just a little.’
      ‘Really?’
      ‘Pine trees always make me think of Scotland.’
      I press into him and he puts an arm around me. ‘I’d like to go there.’
      He laughs and I feel it rumble against my chest through the thickness of our coats. ‘You wouldn’t find my village quite as glamorous as this place. I mean, I love it but fondness helps the eye along quite a bit. The land around is beautiful, though, there’s no doubt of that.’
      We sit close together, soaking in the atmosphere, listening to the jangle of the bells and the snorting of the horses, as the sleigh climbs the winding road. Just as I’m wondering where on earth we could be going, the driver turns off between two old stone pillars topped with stone griffins, and a pair of open wrought-iron gates.
      ‘Ah. We’re almost here,’ Miles says. ‘I don’t know about you but I’m ready for dinner and much as I’m enjoying this ride, I could also do with getting inside somewhere warm.’
      I don’t feel the cold at all, except for the slight numbness in my cheeks. I gaze ahead into the darkness at the end of the curving drive, half wanting us not to arrive somewhere I’ll have to share Miles with other people. But before too long we round the bend and I see before me the turrets and stone walls of a schloss.
      ‘Here we are. Schloss Marika,’ says Miles.
      The castle windows glow golden against the night and the large arched wooden front doors stand open to a brightly lit hall. Within a few minutes, the driver has brought the sleigh to a halt in front of the steps that lead up to the door. Miles has leapt down and helped me out of the sleigh and we’re walking up the steps and into the huge hall, with its iron chandelier glowing with candles. I take off my coat, hat and boots in the ladies’ cloakroom and return pink-cheeked in the dress I chose for this evening: a simple black silk shift with red satin heels embroidered in glittering jewel-coloured thread, and an evening purse also exquisitely embroidered.
      ‘You look beautiful,’ Miles whispers to me, as he takes me by the arm and we follow a waiter down a winding stone staircase to a private vaulted room at the bottom.
      ‘Thank you.’ I feel a rush of pride that he might want to be seen with me on his arm.
      As we walk in, I see a couple are already waiting there for us. He is tall and dark, with noticeably beautiful brown eyes and olive skin. As he sees us, he stands up, a broad smile on his face, his arms out to Miles, and a merry greeting on his lips. Behind him, sitting at a beautifully laid table is a pretty girl: she’s fair with shoulder length hair falling in soft waves, and wide grey eyes. I guess at once she’s English: she has those pink-and-white looks. But as she turns to us with a smile, I have the impression that she’s tougher than those big wide eyes and the full, rather rosebud-ish mouth might suggest, although I don’t know why I should think that. She’s smiling very brightly with a