“We will be together,” Jeremy said, his gaze now sober. “You have my word. Just give me a bit of time.”
“Will ye leave yer wife?” Alys asked, wondering if Jeremy was willing to turn his back on his family and his wealth.
“I will do whatever I have to do to ensure everyone gets what they want,” Jeremy replied cryptically.
“What do ye mean?” Alys asked, but Jeremy didn’t reply. He pulled her to him again, his lips finding hers.
“I’m starved for you and for the sight of my son,” he whispered between kisses. “Shall we move to the bedroom?”
Alys nodded happily. Whatever Jeremy had in mind would take some time, but now she knew he hadn’t abandoned her. They would be a family sooner or later, and that was good enough for her.
The End
Please turn the page after the Notes for an excerpt from
The Lovers (Echoes from the Past Book 1)
Notes
I hope you enjoyed The Hanging Tree. I was originally going to go through with the hanging, but then thought it would be much more satisfying to give Alys and Jeremy a happily ever after. I think they deserved it.
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And lastly, if you enjoyed the book, a review on Amazon or Goodreads would be greatly appreciated.
An Excerpt from The Lovers
Echoes from the Past Book 1
Prologue
The darkness was absolute, the interior of the chest smelling rank and damp. Their bodies were pressed together, crammed in an unnatural position, limbs stiff after hours of immobility. At first, there was still hope, but it had run out, as had the air, as the tight-fitting lid prevented even the smallest amount from seeping in. His arms felt like lead, but he gathered what was left of his waning strength and lifted his hand to her face. He didn’t need to see it; her features were burned into his brain, as were those of their child. Please, God, keep the babe safe.
Her skin was still warm, but she was already gone, as surely as he would be in the next few minutes. His lungs were already burning, a sheen of sweat covering his face. He pressed his lips against her unresponsive mouth in a final kiss as a last thought flashed through his dying brain:
It was all worth it.
Chapter 1
October 2013
London, England
Sean Adams leaped from the cab of his digger and pushed his way through the crowd of men gathered around a large opening. For a moment, he thought it was a sinkhole, here in the middle of London, but what he was looking at was some kind of subterranean chamber that had been uncovered as a result of his efforts. The ceiling of the chamber—nothing more than a thin layer of rotted wooden beams—had caved in, revealing a narrow space beneath, the walls of which were solid stone. The men peered into the hole, curious to see what it held.
“Step aside, step aside,” Foreman Milne bellowed. He stood at the edge of the opening and shone a torch into the dark recess of the chamber. “What have we here?” he asked no one in particular as he removed his hard hat and scratched his egg-shaped head. Foreman Milne was a good-natured man most of the time, not averse to joining his crew for a pint and singing loudly and off-key once he’d had a few, but at this moment he was vibrating with irritation. He had no time for delays; he was on a schedule, and the management was breathing down his neck.
“What is it, boss?” someone called out. “A buried treasure?” The men chuckled. They found all kinds of rubbish at every new site: bits of furniture, rusted prams, sometimes even old cellars that had been used as air raid shelters during the last war, complete with tin cups, wooden benches, and old newspapers. But this looked different. The chamber was completely empty, except for one large rectangular object.
“Bring me a ladder, lads. A long one,” the foreman called. “Adams, you’re with me since we have you to thank for this ‘fortuitous’ find.”
Sean reluctantly followed his boss into the dank hole. The roof was mostly gone, but the walls were still intact, built of rough-hewn stone nearly a foot thick. They were cold to the touch, even on a pleasant day like today. The opening looked like it might have been a large well in its day, but there was no indication that it ever contained any water. The walls were not covered with mildew, and the packed earth at the bottom was dry as bone.
“Toss me down a pair of cutters,” the foreman called out to the men gathered at the top. “This thing appears to have a lock on it.”
The two men stood awkwardly next to what appeared to be an oversize sea chest. It took up most of the space, leaving barely any room for Milne and Adams to stand. The chest looked sturdy and was secured with a chain and an old-fashioned padlock, which was rusted with age and neglect. Foreman Milne gently kicked the chest with his foot, and the two men heard something rattle within. He then ran a finger along the lid. It came away dusty, but the wood beneath appeared to be in good condition. The chest was elaborately carved and painted, the colors still vibrant despite the layers of grime.
Sean was
