Monica Silverman was beginning to regret her trip. The Jewish girl's studies at Oxford were nearly complete, and she'd chosen to celebrate by taking her Easter break in the Scottish countryside. What she hadn't planned on was all the rain, much less her car breaking down. This left her walking by the roadside in the proverbial dark and stormy night, her wavy dark brown hair plastered against her raincoat where it spilled from the hood. It was less than ideal.
Thankfully, her walk had finally started to take her away from the Scottish forests that flanked the road. She was approaching what had the looks of a sleepy little rural hamlet, a painted wooden sign a few hundred yards in front of her. Closing the distance, she tried to make out the faded letters as the lightning flashed.
"Welcome to Aubestershire, population 300. Home to Aubestershire Manor and the Grove Preservation Society. Enjoy your stay."
Below the words were a simple map, with local shops and B&Bs marked in hand-lettered paint. Monica was puzzled at this. Aubestershire wasn't any Scottish county she was familiar with, and it certainly hadn't been on her roadmap. Still, here it was, quaint cobblestone streets and all, a large mansion on the hill dominating its rural sprawl...