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Sir Tristan’s Estate
by
Heather Beck
Smashwords
Edition
Scanning, uploading and/or distribution of
this book via the Internet, print, audio recordings or any other
means without the permission of the Publisher is illegal.
This book is a work of fiction. Names,
places, events and characters are fictitious in every regard. Any
similarities to actual events or persons, living or dead, are
purely coincidental.
Sir Tristan’s Estate
Copyright © 2010 Heather Beck
ISBN: 978-0-9867952-2-0
Photos: Man © MAXFX/photoxpress.com
Castle © Arvydas Kniukšta/photoxpress.com
All rights reserved. Except for review
purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part
constitutes a copyright violation.
Published by
Diamond Dust Books on Smashwords
* * * * *
Sir Tristan’s Estate
By
Heather Beck
Twenty-year-old Skye Huntington gazed out the
airplane’s window as it descended towards the ground. Her view of
the tree covered hills was obscured by the settling dusk. She
turned her eyes towards the brightly lit runway and watched as the
neon orange line simultaneously grew closer and lost momentum.
Skye grasped the sides of her chair as the
airplane shook. To supercede her nervousness, she thought about the
reason for her trip.
She was assigned to capture the sadness
behind the Sir Tristan Estate. Honored that the editor of America’s
Amazing Architectures Magazine would choose a photographer who had
only been working professionally for a year, Skye enthusiastically
accepted the assignment. She knew very little about the estate;
however, what she did know intrigued her.
The estate was built in the late eighteenth
century by the Tristans. It had ten acres of cotton fields, worked
by slaves. The decline of the estate was partly due to the loss of
the slaves, which occurred before the civil war and President
Lincoln’s declaration of human rights. Since Sir Tristan was
responsible for freeing the slaves, the government of Virginia
honored him by renaming the estate. The government’s decision to do
so wasn’t a difficult one. Sir Tristan was, quite literally, a
martyr with ambitions to free all the slaves of the South and gain
equality for women. Although he achieved many of his goals, they
came with a price – his happiness.
Sir Tristan, an only child, died alone at the
estate on October 28, 1860. He was unmarried and left no heirs.
After his death, the estate became the property of the government,
who turned it into a profitable tourist attraction and bed and
breakfast one hundred years later.
That was the extent of Skye’s knowledge of
the estate. Perhaps that’s why the editor of America’s Amazing
Architectures Magazine had requested the presence of a historical
interpreter.
Skye watched as the conveyer belt turned
round and round. Her eyes scanned the surplus of luggage until the
familiar dark green suitcase appeared. She grabbed the suitcase
before it could make its second trip around the belt. Although her
eyes were alert, her mind was foggy.
She whistled down a taxi and watched as the
driver exited the vehicle to help her put the luggage into the
trunk.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” the taxi driver, who was a
young man of about twenty five years, replied. “Where to?”
“The Sir Tristan Estate, please.”
The driver turned to cast Skye a curious
glance. “Excuse me, miss?”
“The - Sir - Tristan - Estate,” Skye repeated
slowly.
“Are you sure you want to go there ?”
“Of course.” Skye was annoyed at the driver’s
uncertainty. “Is there any reason why I wouldn’t want to go to the
estate?”
“Yes.”
Skye looked at the roof of the taxi, as if
seeking unknown help. “And why is that?”
“It’s been closed for a week.”
Skye’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s not
possible. I’m here on business. My boss has made arrangements for
me to photograph the Sir Tristan Estate.”
“Oh,” the driver muttered, turning in
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