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Although Ian Carmichael would not have moved from Little Dunthorpe for all the jewels in the Queen’s treasury, he had to admit to himself that when it rained in Cornwall it rained harder t…….

Although Ian Carmichael would not have moved from Little Dunthorpe for all the jewels in the Queen’s treasury, he had to admit to himself that when it rained in Cornwall it rained harder than anywhere else in England.

Writing does not cause misery, it is born of misery.

“Not on purpose, Mrs. Ramage,” Ian said.

“By the sound o” ye coat a-drippin” out there in the entry, ye nairly drowned between the sheds and the hoose”

Writing does not cause misery, it is born of misery.

Geoffrey was right, of course – dear old Geoffrey was rarely wrong – but sometimes when he was alone, the Gearless of Misery’s escape from the Grim Reaper came forcibly home to him, and it was nearly impossible to hold the tears back. He loved her so much; without her he would die. Without Misery, there would simply be no life left for him, or in him.

“I am,” he said. “It hurts . . . too much. My knee, mostly. Where you . . . uh, where you lost your temper. I’m not ready to be picked up. Could I have five minutes to . . . to . . . ” He knew what he wanted to say but it was drifting away from him. Drifting away and into the gray. He looked at her helplessly, knowing he was going to be caught after all.

There was an old strip of towelling hung from a hook in the entryway, and after hanging up his dripping coat and removing his boots, he used it to towel his dark-blonde hair dry.

“Annie, could you wait five minutes?” he managed. She looked at him, gaze narrowing slightly. “I thought you were in a lot of pain, buster.”

Although Ian Carmichael would not have moved from Little Dunthorpe for all the jewels in the Queen’s treasury, he had to admit to himself that when it rained in Cornwall it rained harder than anywhere else in England.

Writing does not cause misery, it is born of misery.

Her labor had been long and hard, but no longer and no harder than that of many other young ladies she had seen, the midwife declared. It was only after midnight, an hour after Geoffrey had ridden into the gathering storm to try and fetch the doctor, that the midwife had grown alarmed. That was when the bleeding had started.

“Just a minute longer, …….

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