Sarah rushed up the stairs and hurried to her hotel bedroom. Her mind was torn between some kind of heaven and some kind of hell. In her hands she held two notes. One consisting of absolute joy, as she knew the Hugh was on the way to see her. Her heart beat a tattoo once again on her chest as she thought of the handsome man alone with her in the hotel. Any attempts at false modesty or preservation of virginity that she may have entertained would be pronounced dead on arrival!  Then the other note. A warning sent obviously by her evil stepmother to warn her of Vivien’s vile and deranged intentions. How could she warn the authorities about this strange crime in the making? And how could Vivien hope to succeed with her equally deranged companion, David St. Owen, in making a sacrifice of herself and maybe Hugh St. Owen in the tombs of Saint Owen’s Abbey?
Sarah decided that she could not worry about all these eventualities right now. Most of her personal belongings that she would need had already been sent on to London. The only change of clothing she had brought with her was a rather lovely low cut aquamarine green silk negligee. Sarah routed around through her small traveling case. Two green chiffon scarves added to the arms of the negligee might give the illusion of a light, sheer summer evening dress. Maybe she could get away with it. It was, after all, the only change of clothing she had with her.
Sarah carefully arranged the scarves around each arm and puffed up the middle so that they looked like natural appendages to an evening dress. She brushed her long, thick beautiful red hair and made up her sparkling, green eyes. The aquamarine of the negligee only served to highlight the beauty of her large, luminous eyes. She had brought no jewelry with her, except a small necklace with a Gaelic cross hanging down between her dove white breasts, all wrought in fine gold.
The utter simplicity of her outfit and the winning sight of her appearance accentuated Sarah’s considerable charms. Yet the young woman was completely unaware of it. Sarah was a person gifted with many physical attributes, but, at the same time, she was totally without vanity.
Sarah finished her toiletries and left her room. She descended the charming spiral staircase to the hotel foyer. It was now crowded with early season holidaymakers. She felt like the Scarlet Lady wrapped up in a disguised negligee. The young woman even felt a kind of thrill as she advanced down the staircase. Would anyone reveal her secret? Would anyone know what she was really wearing?  She was very aware of the stares of desire from the many gentlemen present, and the glazed admiration of the women milling around the hotel foyer. The dinner hour was about to commence. Sarah looked absolutely stunning. Here was a young woman at the height of her physical beauty, and not a trace of conceit to be seen. The crowd seemed to collectively hold its breath.
Sarah made her way to the entrance to the foyer, half hoping that Hugh St. Owen would immediately appear and take her in his manly arms.
But as Sarah looked out at a now clear and starry evening, there was no Hugh to be seen.
Sarah turned around and decided to go in to dinner.
The young woman was rather startled to discover how very different the dining room looked in evening light. There were candles everywhere at each table. To Sarah, the soft, suffused glow made the room look more like some Italian piazza restaurant in midsummer, rather than a plain Welsh hotel restaurant in late spring. It looked oh, so romantic!
An older Welsh woman was playing a Welsh harp in the middle of the restaurant floor. She blushed as the maitre d showed her to a small table by a window. She sat down carefully, and looked out at the throng. The throng looked intently back at her.
She felt like some famous Hollywood movie star in some old film seated at a table in a glamorous restaurant. The music of the Welsh harp spun its magic among the hotel guests. Sarah could almost see herself as Audrey Hepburn or Elizabeth Taylor in one of their most romantic roles.
All eyes were upon her. She could almost feel the guests whispering to each other. Who was that beautiful young lady hiding behind the candlelight -- and a secret negligee -- all alone in the restaurant?
Sarah continued blushing as she realized that people were staring at her.
“Wine, madam?”
Sarah looked up in surprise. It was the wine waiter.
She nodded carefully and the waiter poured the bold, rich drink into her glass. Sarah rarely drank, but this evening she felt she would indulge.  The lovely young woman raised the glass to her lips and took a few sips of the full wine. It tasted like pure ambrosia to her. The effect of the wine on Sarah’s complexion was almost immediate, Her cheeks radiated with a soft, pink glow, and her eyes shone bright and clear. The sea green of her beautiful eyes seemed to take on an even deeper hue as she sat and took another sip.
Many of the hotel guests could not take their eyes off her. Sarah could even sense the stares without looking up. Her embarrassment only served to heighten the becoming blush of her cheeks.
“We seem to be the only people dining alone here tonight, madam. May I join you?”
Sarah was jolted abruptly out of her reverie. She looked up.
There before her stood a rather tall, very good-looking and very young man with wavy blond hair and azure blue eyes. He was dressed in a midnight blue evening suit and tie. Sarah judged that he could not have been more than seventeen or eighteen years old at the most. The young woman was immediately drawn to him. She considered the offer. Hugh St. Owen had not shown up yet, and she was quite alone. Eating by herself in a rather nice restaurant wasn’t much fun. Besides, she felt like she had not talked to another person for any length of time since she had left Perris-on-Sea.
Sarah nodded politely and the young man proceeded to sit down. All eyes were upon the lovely young couple and there was an atmosphere of approval, Sarah felt, in the restaurant air.  The magical sounds of the Welsh harp played on.
The young man stuck his hand out and Sarah gingerly shook it.
“Byron St. Owen at your service, Miss.”
Sarah felt that her jaw was near to dropping out right there on the table. Could this young man actually be a St. Owen relative?
“Sarah Llewellyn, sir,” Sarah said. She realized that her answer sounded more like a mutter than a statement. She decided to add a little more information.
“I am presently residing in Perris-on-Sea.”
The young man smiled through full, generous red lips.
“I have relatives there,” he said.
“I have been staying with a Mr. Peter St. Owen, sir. Maybe you know him,” said Sarah.
“Know him!” exclaimed the wide-eyed young man, “Why, he was my grandfather!” He paused for a few seconds and frowned. “But how could you possibly know him? He died fifteen years ago.”
Sarah smiled back. She had never looked lovelier.
“Oh no sir, I can assure you. Your grandfather is very much alive.”
The young man frowned and looked extremely puzzled.
“Hugh never mentioned a Byron to me,” said Sarah.
“Ah, you know Hugh, do you?” answered the young man. “I am his half brother. Robert St. Owen was previously married, you know. My mother was his second wife and she died when I was born.”
Sarah reached out a hand to the young man and tapped him on the wrist.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. St. Owen.”
“Byron, please. May I call you Sarah?”
Sarah nodded again.
The young man asked Sarah to explain about his grandfather, and before she knew it, Sarah was retelling much of the harrowing story to the gentleman. She tried to explain it as succinctly as possible. She even managed to finish before dessert was served, leaving out perhaps the most sordid parts of the strange drama.
The young man sat there at the table opposite Sarah with rapt attention.
Sarah eventually managed to ask him exactly what he was doing in Anglesey.
Apparently Byron St. Owen had just come down from Oxford University for a few days to visit his father. Unfortunately he had discovered from his half-brother, Hugh St. Owen, that their father, Robert St. Owen, had to return to Scotland to finish some real estate transactions he had pending near Edinburgh. On the spur of the moment he had decided to motor to Anglesey, and was actually on the same ferry that Sarah had taken across the Menai Straits to Benefydd.
“I know I picked a simply awful day to make the trip,” said Byron St. Owen, “But it was certainly worth it.”
The young man looked up into Sarah’s face with the most adoring pair of puppy dog eyes Sarah could ever recall.
Sarah smiled and then lifted an eyebrow.
“It is strange that Hugh never mentioned you at all,” she said.
The young man shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Well,” he began. Sarah could see that he was blushing. “The fact is, Sarah, Hugh and I had a disagreement over a family matter. I went to stay at the Perris-on-Sea hotel. I was going to wait until father got back before I moved into the family house again.”
Sarah shook her head.
“I must say I am amazed that grandfather is still living,” said the young man.
“He doesn’t suffer fools gladly, Byron,” said Sarah. She smiled, as those adoring eyes looked up at her again.
Sarah was beginning to feel a little sleepy. It must have been the wine, she thought. She tried to stifle a yawn.
“Look, Sarah,” the young man spoke. “I don’t think it is a good idea to return to your room alone when we know that Vivien and David are on the warpath near here. You may be in terrible danger after what you have told me.”
Sarah looked steadily at the young man.
“Byron, you may be correct.” Sarah hesitated, deliberated and drew a deep breath.
“Byron, would you…would you do me the favor of accompanying me to my room after dinner is over, just in case?”
The answer was both immediate and eager.
“Of course I will, Sarah.”
The harp music played on and dessert and coffee were finished. Sarah arose from the table and Byron accompanied her up the spiral staircase and away from the curious gaze of the other hotel guests. Sarah could just imagine that tongues were wagging furiously.
Sarah opened the door to her room with the key provided and Byron switched on the light.
The room was empty. It was also a little chilly. A small wall heater was provided to afford some warmth. Byron switched it on.
Sarah turned towards the young man and thanked him for his help.
“Well, it seems that everything is all right here,” she said.
“Thank you for your help, Byron.”
Byron St. Owen beamed a smile at Sarah and nodded.
“If there is anything, anything at all that you need, Sarah, please let me know. My room is just down the hall.”
Sarah nodded her thanks and proceeded to let Byron out at the bedroom door.
Almost without any warning, the young man started to breathe heavily. Before Sarah had a chance to react the young man had swept Sarah into his arms and had planted a long, deep kiss upon her full, red lips. Sarah did not know what to do. The young man held her in a post-adolescent embrace of steel.
“Sarah, you are so beautiful,” he whispered heavily.
Sarah looked up at the young man, whose hormones were obviously racing. Sarah quickly reflected at her utter foolishness of actually bringing the young man into her room.
Just at that moment there was a knock at the bedroom door.
Sarah heard a familiar voice shout out.
“Sarah, are you in there?”
“Hugh!” Sarah answered breathlessly. She shoved the young man away. “Let me go, Byron.”
“What is Hugh doing here?” asked the young man, with a puzzled frown.
Sarah looked at Byron St. Owen as she attempted to straighten her hair.
“Hugh …Hugh is my…my…” Sarah cast around for the correct word.
Byron St. Owen lifted his eyebrows and started to nod slowly.
“Oh, I see, I see,” he said. “Hugh was always the ladies man.”
He hurriedly dragged a comb through his hair and opened the door.
Hugh St. Owen strode manfully into the room.
The man’s jaw dropped. Hugh St. Owen stopped, and quickly took in a rather disheveled younger bother hastily straightening his tie. He also took in his ladylove dressed in what was obviously a thin negligee with two green scarves now dangling from her armpits, hair in disarray and makeup all skewed.
“Sarah! Byron! What is going on?” Hugh St. Owen demanded. “Or is what I see the obvious?”
Sarah walked up to Hugh St. Owen and held him at arms length with surprising strength.
“Just one minute, Hugh,” she said. “I’m afraid it’s a case of Byron having a crush on me. I did not encourage his behavior, believe me.”
Byron St. Owen nodded briskly and swallowed hard.
“She’s telling the truth, Hugh. Sarah is so beautiful that I’m afraid I took advantage of the situation.”
Hugh St. Owen looked at the two people who were obviously caught in an embarrassing tryst.

Sarah’s heart caught in her mouth. Would the sexy Hugh believe that Sarah’s intentions were pure and true or would he interpret the encounter in a strange hotel bedroom as an attempted rape scene? Would he believe his half-brother, Byron St. Owen’s explanation of what had just happened? Would they be able to work together to thwart the evil Vivien De Galois’s wicked objectives? Did the two brothers realize that their very lives may well be in danger? How could Sarah warn the police of the awful schemes to take place on Midsummer’s Eve? See the next exciting installment in Chapter 22 of Sarah Llewellyn and the Druid’s Curse!
Read Chapter 22:  A MOMENT OF SHEER HORROR
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