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The Shimmering Stones of Glendower Hall // Winter's Light — Constance Walker
"Ye have been here before, child. Ye cannot deny it"
As an infant, she was left in a basket on the steps of a simple cottage in the South of Wales. Now, the kindly couple who raised her have died; Gwynneth Morys is an orphan again, totally alone in the world with only her odd, recurring dreams -- dreams of a towering mansion on the moors a beautiful lady in a pale green gown...a tall man whose dark eyes speak of passion.
Bereft of funds and family. Gwynneth has no choice but to accept the only offer of work to come her way -- a position as companion to an elderly woman in the North of Wales. And as Gwynneth approaches the many-turreted manor house rising out of the-mist, close by the fog-enshrouded moors and still closer to the roiling sea, she knows that this is the place she has dreamed of all her life. And the handsome, dark-eyed Owen Price-Jones, who steps forward to greet her, can be none other than her destined lover...
But not even in her dreams had Gwynneth learned of the tragic death of Lady Jane's only daughter, or the dark desire for vengeance that still burns in the old woman's heart. Nor does she guess that an enemy -- her enemy -- lurks among the shadowy towers, waiting for her to climb a certain flight of stairs to the one turret from which there could be no escape...and no one to hear her plea for mercy.
As an infant, she was left in a basket on the steps of a simple cottage in the South of Wales. Now, the kindly couple who raised her have died; Gwynneth Morys is an orphan again, totally alone in the world with only her odd, recurring dreams -- dreams of a towering mansion on the moors a beautiful lady in a pale green gown...a tall man whose dark eyes speak of passion.
Bereft of funds and family. Gwynneth has no choice but to accept the only offer of work to come her way -- a position as companion to an elderly woman in the North of Wales. And as Gwynneth approaches the many-turreted manor house rising out of the-mist, close by the fog-enshrouded moors and still closer to the roiling sea, she knows that this is the place she has dreamed of all her life. And the handsome, dark-eyed Owen Price-Jones, who steps forward to greet her, can be none other than her destined lover...
But not even in her dreams had Gwynneth learned of the tragic death of Lady Jane's only daughter, or the dark desire for vengeance that still burns in the old woman's heart. Nor does she guess that an enemy -- her enemy -- lurks among the shadowy towers, waiting for her to climb a certain flight of stairs to the one turret from which there could be no escape...and no one to hear her plea for mercy.
