Kendra paused before climbing from the carriage into Greystone’s little courtyard. “Listen.” A few low birdcalls, distant bleating from the fields, a faint rustle from the smattering of trees that stood sentinel around the tiny circular drive. “It sounds like no one’s home.” “No one is home,” Jason reminded her. “Colin has only Benchley for company until the renovations are further along, and he’s likely in the kitchen.” “Let’s go see the kitchen.” Ford urged them along. “Those pipes—” “That food—” “Those Chase stomachs!” Kendra laughed as they walked toward the door to Greystone’s modest
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