Belgrave House. Retrieved 29 January Kathy Lynn Emerson. Retrieved 21 October November 17, Kate Emerson Historicals. Kathy Lynn Emerson, author. Kaitlyn Dunnett. August 6, Romance Wiki. Malice Domestic.
Archived from the original on 12 April Coleridge — in the grip of an opium habit — sat on the roof of his house, Greta Hall, watching the sky and recording the changes of light, and revelling in the tricks played on his imagination:. On the opposite shore, you will find rocks and cliffs of stupendous height, hanging broken over the lake in horrible grandeur some of them a thousand feet high, the woods climbing up their steep and shaggy fides, where mortal foot never yet approached. On these dreadful heights the eagles build their nests; a variety of water-falls are often pouring from their summits, and tumbling in vast sheets from rock to rock in rude and terrible magnificence: while on all sides of this immense amphitheatre the lofty mountains rise round, piercing the clouds.
Here Coleridge sat musing on the name of the river that ran past his house, which seemed to mirror his despair. Homes beneath the A66 at Keswick. To this end, he invented a Romantic version of Russian roulette. As Macfarlane describes it:. Pick a mountain, any mountain. Reality and Its Escape Today the A66 is the usual entry point for the caravans and motor homes that converge on the central Lakes. The compact motor home needs something correspondingly vast — the sea, a giant mountain range, an endless desert, and so on — to justify its existence.
This is the cultural ecotone where the Lake District meets the coast.
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After Cockermouth, the scenery flattens out into a coastal plain dotted with wind turbines. Here we find Workington and Whitehaven, which so impressed Defoe three centuries ago. Thickly planted trees obscure the entrances and exits on the Keswick Bypass.
They built modern townscapes by the coast that stand today as the last remains of their world. The industrial coast was darkened by grime and pollution. On the outskirts of Egremont, the last deep iron mine in Western Europe closed in Buildings used by the miners as changing rooms have been converted into an arts center. In the words of historian J. The film aimed for universal appeal, examining the centrality of mining to the life of the nation, in a time when at least one in ten men worked underground.
Cumberland as it was then known could easily have been taken to represent the essence of a dark industrial world. But Reed obscured matters by casting the local coalfield as an actor playing the part of County Durham — 90 miles away on the opposite coast. We can blame Wordsworth for that: by , Cumberland was so firmly associated with the Lake District that it would have seemed an unlikely setting for the story Reed wanted to tell.
Not much remains of the mining landscape today, and it would be hard to retrace the steps of the screen stars and their film crews. So here, again, we see a contrast: between the sublime of the Lake District — an imaginary that is never erased, no matter how thoroughly it is overrun by motor homes — and the subliminal, subterranean history of West Cumbria.
On the outskirts of the town of Egremont, the last deep iron mine in Western Europe closed in The decommissioned Florence Mine, near Egremont. Visitors who reach West Cumbria today, perhaps at the end of a vacation through the Lake District, will find charming port towns with Georgian centers and attractive marinas, and they might imagine they have landed in a post-industrial world. At the Workington end of the Sea to Sea or C2C cycle route, which stretches across Northern England, the view out to the Irish Sea takes in the massed ranks of turbines of the Robin Rigg offshore wind farm.
Much like the A66 itself, the wind turbines are a symbol of how West Cumbria has survived by extending itself outwards through its infrastructure. That much has not changed since the old maritime routes were charted. Here the air is still a bit grungy, against the backdrop of the Lake District mountains.
Calthorpe pulled back, his eyes watering. Even more irritating was what he'd seen.
Emerson, Kathy Lynn 1947–
Another gentlewoman , he thought in disgust. And worse, a girl-child mounted on one of the horses. Turning to Susanna, complaints ready on his tongue, he bit back what he'd been about to say. She gripped the sill with white-knuckled force and was obliged to take several deep breaths before she regained her composure. Her face had gone as pale as a blanched almond. Alarmed, Calthorpe forgot he was wroth with her.
Face down across the western sea - Anaheim Public Library
Shall I call someone? How did they get past Sir Walter's guards? I thought he gave orders to send all visitors away. She is Sir Walter's wife. While Calthorpe watched, Pendennis strode into the stableyard looking no more pleased at the sight of a woman and child than Calthorpe had been. Shoulders stiff, fists clenched at his sides, he advanced on the litter. After supper? His temper, always quick to flare, was likewise fast to fade. She took him at his word and hurried off, to interfere in Sir Walter's business, he surmised.
Calthorpe's pace was slower. He had no interest in the newcomers and made his way instead toward the former monk's cell he'd been assigned as a private study, determined to use this interval to write down all he remembered of Twide's account. He'd give that to Susanna this evening then go on to discuss the other matter he'd meant to bring to her attention. Another discrepancy, this one in records left by a certain gentleman of Mantua.
Lost in contemplation of how the two subjects might be linked, Calthorpe entered his cubicle and closed the door behind him. Only then did he realize someone was already in the small room. Protective as a doting father looking out for his child and without a thought for his own safety, Calthorpe advanced toward his writing table and the person cowering behind it. The would-be thief came at him in a desperate rush. They collided heavily and Calthorpe fell, striking both knees on unyielding oak floorboards with enough force to rattle his bones.
Too late, he perceived the extent of his danger, but before he could ward off the blow, pain lanced through his head. His last thought, as he sank into unconsciousness, was that he wished he'd had time to tell Susanna Appleton everything. See All Customer Reviews. Shop Books. Read an excerpt of this book! Add to Wishlist. USD 4. Sign in to Purchase Instantly.
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