But the most interesting thing of all was that the ball had hardly started when a troop of soldiers stopped in. I learned that they had been marching by and were drawn by the light and the warmth and the laughter.
As it so happened, they were Hessian soldiers from one of the German auxiliaries. And of course, Father welcomed them in with a drink each and invited them to stay for the festivities.
I have to say, the soldiers caused quite the stir amongst the ladies as we enjoyed our new dance partners for the evening. One in particular, tall and handsome in his uniform, asked me to dance early in the night. My, how quick on his feet he was!
His eyes sparkled the most unusual shade of amber in the candlelight.
Dear diary, I know it is proper for a lady to make sure she dances with all the suitors at such an event, but I found myselfquite taken with him, and he with I. We spent most of the night out in the middle of the dance floor together.
I fear Father was not happy with my choice, as he made sure to tell me to save a dance for the eldest O’Neil son. I know he plans to marry me off to one of his fellow wealthy landowners, and the O’Neils would be the obvious choice. Not my choice, of course.
But there was something about this soldier.We danced and danced, and drank wine by the crackling fire.
As the party came to a close, the sergeant came around, rallying his men. I stood in the entryway, watching them disappear into the distance. My soldier and his bannermen rode off into the night, and I cannot be sure if I will see him again.
5
The sun sets earlier than I remembered here in Sleepy Hollow. By the time I’m done reading the first few diary entries, the room has grown dark around me. Blinking, I push myself up to a sitting position and stretch.
It feels surreal to hold the diary in my hands, knowing it’s survived hundreds of years and was once held by a woman I’m descended from, who lived in this very house before me. Her descriptions paint a vibrant picture of what life had been like, and I can almost feel her excitement emanating from the page. The Van Tassel Manor she describes sounds warm and inviting, which is at odds with the house that it has become.I wonder what happened?
I slide off the bed and step over to the window, where I can see the dark town in the distance. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine. I pull the curtains closed to keep the dark out and the heat in, and make my way to the bedroom door.
Out in the corridor, I bump into Meredith.
“Ah, there you are. I was just coming to see if you’ll be joining us for dinner,” she says lightly.
My stomach growls, a reminder that I haven’t eaten since the soup. I follow Meredith through the house to the dining hall, a long room coming off from the kitchen. It’s warm in here. Heat is being thrown out by the big, open fireplace that takes up one side of the room, the crackling flames sending shadows dancing across the forest-green walls. More light comes from the crystal chandelier glowing above the long mahogany table. Meredith sits at one end of the table, waiting for my father to join and sit opposite, while Toby and I face each other in high-backed chairs. Between us, the table is piled high with plates of roast vegetables, potatoes, cauliflower cheese and Yorkshire puddings. Steam rises from the food, the rich scent reminding me of family dinners long passed.
“So, Katrina, how have you found your first day back at the old family home?” my father, Philip Van Tassel, asks as he strides into the room and takes his seat at the head of the table.
That’s it? He hasn’t seen me in years and doesn’t even open with a hello? I hadn’t been expecting hugs and fanfare, but even with the fire warming my back, I’m shocked at the icy welcome.
“It’s been fine, thanks. The house feels the same as ever, and the town. It’s like nothing has changed,” I reply flatly, reaching for the roast potatoes in the centre.
“You’ve been down in the town? Did Ben take you?” He continues his brusque line of questioning, spearing a carrot with his fork. I can see why he makes a good headmaster — the authority radiates from him even now. He sits tall, his jacket straining across his chest.
“No, Dad. It’s only a short walk,” I say, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes.
“You walked by yourself, alone?” The hand holding his glass of red wine visibly tightens.
I fail and this time, I do roll my eyes. “I’m nineteen. I didn’t need someone to take me and hold my hand.”
He looks uneasy. “It’s not about that.” He coughs. “Look, before we get too far into dinner, there’s something you all need to know.” He pushes his plate away.
Meredith rests her patterned silver cutlery on the side of her plate as well. “Are you all right, Philip? Is it something at the university?” she asks, picking up a napkin and dabbing the corner of her mouth.
Dad pauses and shakes his head. “No, no. Something has happened in the town. It’s… well, it’s Dr Larpin. He was found dead this afternoon.”
A log in the fireplace cracks.
Toby and I exchange a glance across the table, both of us putting our forks down.
“The doctor who came around last summer after I fell off my bike?” Toby asks, eyes wide.
“Yes, he’s head of the GP practice in town,” Dad says for my benefit.
I remember the man practically tripping over himself and colliding with me outside the doctor surgery earlier today.Surely not?
