Chapter TwoThe Earl awoke early and lay for a while in the huge four- poster bed in which generations of Roths had been born and died, thinking about his home.
He then rose and crossing the room pulled back the curtains over the mullion windows and looked out into the April sunshine.
He thought, as he had done last night when he arrived at King’s Keep just as the sun was setting, that there was no more beautiful place in the whole world.
Wisps of morning mist still lay over the two silver lakes linked by a bridge that carried the drive into the Park. Under the great oak trees a carpet of daffodils was a golden herald of spring.
There were daffodils too sloping down to the lakes to join the kingcups and the wild iris, which were just coming into flower, and there were daffodils impudent
