The
Shooting
Season
Isobel Starling
www.decentfellowspress.com
Copyright © 2019 Isobel Starling
ISBN: 9781707700004
ASIN: B081C6KP22
First Edition:
All rights reserved worldwide. This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author, except for the purposes of reviews. The reviewer may quote brief passages for the review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.
The characters and events described in this book are fictional. Any resemblance between characters and any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The use of real-life locations is for fictional purposes. The plot, actions, and characters in this work are fictional and in no way reflect real-life occurrences at these establishments.
The Shooting Season, Copyright © 2019 Isobel Starling
Cover Art Design by Isobel Starling
Many thanks to my family for their love and support
Praise for Isobel Starling
“Oh my gosh, this was a hyperintense erotic read. It's highly seductive. The eroticism dripped everywhere. It crackled with sensual electricity. But damn it made me cry and I never wanted it to end. This is what I call 'intense and sensual'” Review for “Silken” by Truus on Amazon
“It has heat and sweetness, danger and anger, and a bad guy you can really scowl at. Hard. And mean. And then simper with joy at the lovebirds he detests. Ha! This is the type of series that has you back talking the characters. Out loud. And only being embarrassed that they ignored you. It fills you up until you're bubbly with the feels it pulls from within you.” Review of Shatterproof Bond Series Boxset by Paisley Rowan on Amazon
“I found myself simply mesmerized by the exchange of words as Sam and Declan make the true depth of their feelings known. You can’t help but be moved by it, and I felt like my heart would just explode with the power of Sam and Declan’s love and devotion. I can’t wait for the next adventure; this series really has me hooked!” Review of “Return to Zero” by Carra, Making it Happen Book blog
Contents
Chapter 1 The Missive
Chapter 2 The Collectors
Chapter 3 Remembrance
Chapter 4 The Viewing
Chapter 5 In The Dark
Chapter 6 The Night Light
Chapter 7 The Marauder
Chapter8 Truths & Untruths
Chapter9 The Auction
Chapter 10 Snowbound
Chapter 11 The Visitor
Chapter 12 The Gift
Epilogue
About the Author
The Missive
Monday 20th December 1897
I stepped from my carriage into the frigid, smoggy London city night, and to ward off the biting chill, pulled the fur lapels of my greatcoat closed.
Being of a somewhat reserved disposition I was content to do business at my offices during the day but did not commonly venture out in London after dark. I was not comfortable in crowds, I did not like to be touched, and the bustle of crowds caused me great anxiety. On the rare occasion I did endeavor for company I would attend my club where I could overnight should I require. But this night I had ventured into the filthy city and I was not attending my club. There was an errand I must undertake that was of such great import that I could not allow my irrational fears or misgivings to thwart me.
A young uniformed porter stepped from the shadows and doffed his cap.
“Here, boy,” I bellowed. “Take my trunk to the Caledonian Sleeper first-class baggage car”.
He nodded subserviently and received my wheeled traveling trunk from the coachman. I tossed the coachman a sixpence, far too munificent for a tip, but it was the season of goodwill and I was in a generous mood.
Hearing the warning shriek of the train whistle, I grasped the handle of my small overnight case, gripped my silver-topped cane, and then hurried into the mercifully vacant Euston Railway Station. I swiftly made my way to the ticket booth and on purchasing my first-class ticket with an additional charge for the sleeping compartment, I rushed toward platform one where the magnificent snarling steam engine stood. It was huffing and puffing like a beast on the bridle, desperate to escape its bonds and fly. I edged through the billowing clouds of smoke and steam to find an empty platform, free at this late hour, of the hubbub of people bidding adieu to their loved ones.
The porter dragged my wheeled trunk to the train and awaited assistance at the baggage car to lift it aboard.
“The first-class carriage is coupled at the front of the train sir.” The cockney porter called as I hurried past. I was most anxious to find the correct carriage, warm myself, and settle my nerves with a glass of mulled Port. The winds that whistled through the station threatened snow but the newspapers suggested we would be spared a blizzard until Christmas Day, five-days hence. I was traveling to Scotland and therefore, did not trust that forecast one bit.
At last, I found my carriage. I removed my top hat and stepped out of the cold night and aboard the luxurious ten-thirty p.m. Caledonian Sleeper train from London Euston. I would arrive, well-rested, at Glasgow Central Station at seven a.m.
My reason for making such an arduous journey during the coldest season of the year was contained in a letter that I’d folded neatly and placed in my breast pocket, not an hour before reaching the Railway Station. My errand was partly business in nature, but primarily it was to feed my obsession. I was traveling to Dunecht Hall on the Glenlair Estate near Fort William for the auction of the personal treasures of the late Lord Percival Ardmillan. The letter explained that Lord Ardmillan’s Last Will and Testament contained a clause stating
