A Country Scandal: a sexy, scandalous page-turner

by Sasha Morgan

  ‘Megan, I’ve come to apologise.’

  ‘What for?’ she asked surprised.

  ‘For nearly driving into you that night. I’m sorry, I know Nick implied Tobias was driving, but we both know he’d never do such a thing.’

  Megan’s eyes avoided his for a moment. Then she replied quietly, ‘No, he wouldn’t.’

  ‘Please believe me, I am very sorry. We’d had a terrible row, me and Nick, and I just lost it. I drove like a mad man. I truly do regret it.’

  ‘Sebastian, it’s OK, really.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No, honestly, don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. Perhaps it’s best if Tobias wasn’t told about this. You know, with—’

  ‘Carrie,’ blurted Sebastian. ‘Yes, of course. Losing the love of your life to a drunk driver is bad enough.’

  Megan drew in a shaky breath. It was hard hearing Tobias had lost the love of his life. What was she? Second best by default? Sebastian was too wrapped up to realise what he had implied. Megan looked at him, so pale and anxious, thin and blond, almost translucent, ghostlike; the complete opposite to his older brother. Yet instead of being offended by his clumsy comments, she felt sorry, almost protective of Sebastian. He appeared hurt and vulnerable somehow. She cursed Nick and the harm he had inflicted on both Sebastian and Finula.

  She patted his shoulder. ‘Let’s forget it ever happened.’

  His lips curled into a slow smile. ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ she smiled back. Then asked quietly, ‘How’s Nick?’

  He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Probably the worse for wear after last night’s episode.’ There was a short silence. ‘That was the last straw.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Me and him. We were close once, you know.’

  ‘Oh, right…’ Megan was unsure just how to react, but Sebastian carried on regardless.

  ‘I’m off, back on the road. I want to put all this behind me once and for all.’

  ‘I see…’ she said, even though she didn’t. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To Canterbury. The travelling theatre performs there the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘Ah, well, good luck,’ she smiled encouragingly.

  ‘Thank you.’ Then he paused and looked at her as if really seeing her for the first time. ‘Megan, I think you’ll be very good for my brother.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re most welcome,’ and with that he rose dramatically off the sofa and headed to the front door.

  Chapter 43

  ‘Now are you sure you’ve got everything, ladies?’ Tobias couldn’t help smiling to himself at his mother and aunt’s excitement. They had both been up since the crack of dawn, scurrying around like headless chickens, packing and fussing over last-minute arrangements. Tobias had arranged for a car to take them to Southampton, where they would board the Jewel of the Ocean. He was more than ready for them to set sail. With his mother and aunt safely off on their voyage and Sebastian in Canterbury, he had Treweham Hall all to himself, to entertain the lovely Megan. Ted’s cottage was now advertised as ‘to let’, being fully renovated and Tobias had moved out.

  ‘Come to the Hall tomorrow evening. I’ll cook dinner,’ he had suggested last night at The Templar. Megan had just finished her shift and Tobias had arrived for last orders and to walk her home.

  ‘We both know it won’t be you doing the cooking, Tobias,’ replied Megan, grinning.

  He raised an eyebrow seductively, ‘I’ll have you know my coq au vin is to die for,’ he purred.

  ‘Really? And what about dessert?’ she batted back.

  ‘Oh, you’ll get your just deserts, don’t you worry.’ He grabbed her by the waist, she put her arms round his neck and together their lips met.

  ‘Have you no homes to go to?’ asked Dermot drily as he guided them both out of the pub doors.

  As they strolled to Megan’s cottage hand in hand Tobias continued, ‘Stay over tomorrow night. It’ll be just us, with everyone gone now.’

  Megan was so tempted, but if she were being completely honest she still felt a little in awe of the place. Tobias wanted her to be more relaxed, to treat his home as her own. This meant her being accustomed to the space and grandeur, plus the team of staff that kept Treweham Hall ticking over like the fine machine it was. He noticed her hesitation.

  ‘Megan, it’s my home. I want you to be comfortable in it,’ he reasoned.

  ‘I know you do and, yes, it would be lovely to stay over, thank you.’ She realised how it must seem to Tobias and really didn’t want to cause any offence. Besides, another night with him was what she had been privately craving since Royal Ascot.

  To say it was what Tobias had been craving was an understatement. He was at fever pitch to have Megan in his four-poster bed – permanently, if he had his way. He was aware of how possessive of her he had become, hence why he had taken to walking her home after an evening shift in The Templar. The thought of Nick Fletcher sniffing around Megan filled him with rage. He had startled himself at his own reaction when seeing Fletcher touch Megan at the Landlord’s Supper. Once again, he understood the lengths his father had gone to in protecting his mother.

  ‘Good. That’s settled then.’

  *

  The following evening, Megan, despite her nerves, was still eager to stay at Treweham Hall with Tobias. She was glad it would be just the two of them the first time she stayed over. Not really sure if dinner would be a formal affair in the great dining hall, or an intimate supper in the drawing room, she found it difficult to decide what to wear. In the end she opted for a simple cream tea dress with a matching fine wool cardigan. She arrived at the Hall and went through the back way, via the kitchen. The staff were familiar with her by now, as she always passed by the kitchen to see them when calling at the Hall. Even Henry, who deep down hadn’t approved of Megan initially, had succumbed to her friendly manner. It would have been foolish not to. If his suspicions were proved right, Megan’s presence would be a permanent fixture in the not-too-distant future.

  ‘Ah, Miss Taylor, Lord Cavendish-Blake is expecting you in the dining hall.’

  ‘Thanks, Henry. I’ll make my own way there.’

  ‘Very good, madam.’ He bowed slightly. Megan’s lips twitched: was he always this formal?

  Walking along the corridor, she glanced upwards to the many portraits staring down at her. The dining-hall door was open, but there was no Tobias inside. She entered the huge room and wondered why he had chosen this ceremonial setting for just the two of them. A long mahogany table ran down the centre of the room, with ten chairs seated each side. A silver candelabra burned brightly in the middle. Two places had been set on the corner towards the top end. Megan giggled, thankful they weren’t sitting at opposite ends of this great long table, imagining herself whizzing the salt down to Tobias. Just then he walked in, looking rather dapper in jeans, shirt and a Harris Tweed jacket.

  ‘Sorry, I was just on the phone to Dylan.’ He kissed her mouth firmly. Moving towards the drinks cabinet, he poured himself a brandy. ‘What can I get you?’ he called over his shoulder.

  ‘A gin and tonic, please.’ Megan gazed around the room, remembering the first time Tobias had shown her Treweham Hall. A spectacular chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling, its cut-glass flickering light on the pale silk walls. She looked enquiringly as he handed her drink. ‘Why are we dining in here, Tobias?’

  ‘Because it’s a dining room,’ he replied simply.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ she chided. ‘Why so formal?’

  He sighed. ‘Because I want you to get used to all this.’ He raised his hands in the air. Megan frowned. ‘Look, all I want is you to be yourself, as relaxed here as you would be at your cottage.’

  ‘Bit different, though, isn’t it? I don’t have staff wandering around the place. Don’t you find it a little intrusive?’

  ‘Not really. And talking of staff, I’ve been
thinking.’ Megan took a long drink: this sounded ominous. ‘After dinner I’ll show you the rooms that will be open to the public. The teashop conversion is about to start. I’m renovating a downstairs room. It’s big enough to house tables, chairs and a kitchen, plus there’ll be a small annex selling souvenirs of Treweham Hall.’

  ‘It all sounds great.’ Megan couldn’t help but be impressed with Tobias’ drive and vision. He was committed to Treweham Hall and she hoped his hard work would pay off. ‘How’s the training yard coming along?’ Yet another project he was dedicated to.

  His face lit up with enthusiasm. ‘Good. Dylan knows exactly what he wants and I’m more than happy to accommodate. That training yard will be the saving of this place.’

  ‘Really?’ Megan was surprised. ‘I never knew there was so much money involved.’

  ‘You kidding? We’ll aim to get clients from the Far East who’ll pay astronomical amounts of money to train a world-class racehorse.’

  ‘You mentioned staff?’

  ‘I did.’ He looked straight at her. ‘Megan I’d like you to manage the tours and the tearoom, obviously with a small team of staff.’

  ‘Why me?’

  ‘Because I trust you and know you’ll do a good job.’ Plus he wanted her under his watchful eye, truth be told, not behind a bar in the local pub being ogled at by the punters. He’d seen, on more than one occasion, various men casting lustful glances in her direction and objected to it. This way she would still be earning money, enjoying a rapport with colleagues, but in surroundings that suited him, basically under his own roof. Again, he was conscious of his possessiveness, but couldn’t help it. He excused this to himself as being protective of her. Megan was taken aback.

  ‘Oh, thank you… but what about The Templar?’

  ‘I’m sure Dermot can find another barmaid, and you’ll still see Finula. The Templar’s your local pub.’ Megan was pondering the idea when dinner arrived. Tobias led her to the top of the table. ‘Think it over,’ he told her, pulling out her chair. And fast, he thought. He aimed to get the whole operation running as soon as possible.

  One of the reasons he arranged tonight was for Megan to become familiar with Treweham Hall and all it encompassed. He loved the idea of her working alongside him as well as it removing her from any unwanted attention. If Nick Fletcher dared to touch her again he’d kill him.

  After dinner Tobias showed Megan the route of the public tour. He explained with eagerness where the public and private boundaries lay and the information cards that would be displayed in each room, depicting the history and items of artwork they contained. He had been given advice from English Heritage and the Historic Houses Association, who had been more than helpful.

  Megan listened with interest, admiring his zeal. Everything he did was done to the max, she concluded. He was always giving his all and his energy was contagious. Suddenly she wanted to be a part of it.

  ‘Tobias, I’ll do it,’ she stated with conviction.

  ‘Is the right answer,’ he replied with a smile. ‘Come here, you,’ and he hugged her hard. ‘And now,’ he whispered softly in her ear, ‘to bed.’

  Megan’s heart fluttered uncontrollably as he took her by the hand and led her to his bedroom.

  Chapter 44

  ‘This is the life, Trace.’ Gary sat back in the hot tub, letting the bubbles flow over his body. Tracy was relaxing on a nearby sun lounger, head behind a magazine. He reached for his lager and took a long swig. Was his wife actually listening to him? She looked very engrossed in what she was reading. Still, she did seem to have settled more.

  He had taken to country life quite well, joining a local shoot, which he enjoyed. Gary had proved to be a breath of fresh air to the stuffy lot whose Land Rovers packed with Labradors met together once a month, wearing tweed, Barbours and rather smug smiles. Gary had only tried clay-pigeon shooting, but come autumn he was looking forward to the shoot that would take him out to the woodlands packed with pheasants. Knowing full well he was the joker of the pack, Gary played up to the role and had them all hooting with guffaws. He was actually a very good shot, which for all his gusto had earned him a lot of respect, and, of course, he had money. Gary had learnt to keep his own counsel when it came to background. Whilst proud of his Northern roots, experience had taught him not to disclose how he came about his wealth. Unlike his old friends back home, here they didn’t pry. Their curiosity was blatantly obvious, but they would never be so bold or crass as to ask, and for that Gary in turn respected them. In an odd way their differences complemented each other and it worked. They would mock him with his accent and naïvety, whereas he was easily capable of returning the quips, calling them Hooray Henrys who couldn’t hit a barn door with a cannon ball. Even Tracy had to stifle a laugh at him in his plus fours. He made a refreshing change; his carefree outlook and jolly disposition made him popular, and he and Tracy were frequently receiving invitations to various dinner parties and charity events.

  Tracy had made friends with a few of their wives and had morphed into a lady who lunched. But for her, something was still missing. She longed for an overall sense of purpose. ‘I just don’t feel like I’m useful any more,’ she had commented to Gary. He had tried to appease her by telling her to relax and enjoy their good fortune. But it wasn’t in her blood. She had been brought up to work hard, as she had in the nursing home where she had thoroughly enjoyed seeing the fruits of her labour. Tracy often wondered how the residents were, especially Alf. It didn’t seem right that all she had to worry about now was what to wear. She had seen her husband adapt to their new lifestyle like a duck to water. He never appeared bored or discontented. He was jovial, forever playing the clown in company; not like her, quiet and watchful on the side lines. What she needed was motivation, a reason for getting up in the morning, other than meeting another ‘friend’ for lunch, with whom she had very little in common. The article she was reading was giving her food for thought. It talked about volunteers who offered respite in nursing homes, socialising with the elderly, making crafts and enjoying days out in local areas. How rewarding, she thought.

  ‘Can you hear me, Tracy?’

  She turned to Gary who was luxuriating in the water. Didn’t it bother him, all this nothing to do? Maybe it was different for him; after all, he had hated his job. Couldn’t really blame him – she wouldn’t have liked lugging around heavy boxes and stacking freezers all day. He’d never complained, though, always cheery.

  ‘Sorry, what did you say?’

  ‘I said, this is the life!’

  ‘Yes.’ She smiled weakly. For you maybe.

  *

  ‘Bon voyage!’ trilled Beatrice, holding her glass to Celia, who reluctantly clinked it.

  ‘Calm down, Beatrice,’ she replied crisply, smothering her sister’s happiness. They were sitting out on the deck with a bottle of cava. Beatrice had insisted they celebrate the start of their cruise in style. Celia would have been quite happy with a cup of Earl Grey.

  ‘Have you decided what to wear tonight? We are at the captain’s table, after all!’ Beatrice squealed in delight.

  Celia rolled her eyes, it was always the same with her, gush, gush, gush.

  ‘I was thinking of my new pink taffeta dress. What about you?’

  ‘My old grey suit,’ stated Celia flatly.

  ‘Celia! That thing? What about your floral dress, you know the one with the forget-me-nots on it?’

  ‘Hmm, possibly.’ There was no forgetting how much Beatrice grated on her nerves. Ever since they were small, little Bea had perpetually stolen the limelight with her effervescent charm. Celia had been the much older sister, the sensible one. Little Bea had blossomed into beautiful Bea, who had the pick of any man she wanted. Celia had remained a spinster. Then Beatrice had married a lord and become a lady, while Celia remained the dutiful daughter. Beatrice had gone on to have two healthy sons who adored their mother. Celia remained alone and childless. Now she was subjected to a retirement community, while h
er sister still played Lady of the Manor. Life was so cruelly unfair. But Beatrice was all she had, and she loved her nephews. Celia didn’t like this resentment eating away at her. She knew she was fortunate to have Tobias’ care, knowing how much the home cost. Even so, the unhappy truth was her lonely existence was killing her, slowly sapping her of life. Celia thought this cruise would buck her up, give her a boost, but in reality it was highlighting the stark contrasts yet again between her and Beatrice.

  Chapter 45

  Dylan was in high spirits. He was driving to Flora’s. Together they were going to look at all the equipment needed for the new training yard. The list was endless, from hay nets, water buckets and saddle racks for the stables, to wheelbarrows, shovels and brushes for the yard. Also there was the tack to consider, bridles, reins and training aids, not to mention the grooming kit of clippers, hoof care, fly repellents and first aid. His head was buzzing with ideas, and he was keen to get on and get going. The fact that Flora was alongside him heightened his eagerness.

  Flora, too, was keyed up. All night her mind had been racing with the task in hand. She was taking her new position very seriously. Dylan had shown her the plans for the yard and she’d seen first-hand the beginnings of it taking shape. It felt somewhat alien to listen to Dylan and Lord Cavendish-Blake discussing matters in front of her, as if she was their equal. She had to keep reminding herself that she was there on merit, because Dylan considered her worthy, which in itself was all the confidence she needed. Now and then she’d catch Dylan staring at her. She knew he was waiting for her to surrender to him, which made her more determined to keep the relationship strictly on a business level. Though she had to admit, it was hard; and he knew it. The way he’d leant over her when examining the plans, his chest pressed firmly against her back, his thighs touching the edge of her bottom, the way he sat next to her with his arm casually draped across the back of her shoulders… Occasionally his hand would catch her hair and swirl it round his fingers. He knew exactly what tactics to use and Flora hated herself for very nearly succumbing to them. He was too damned attractive for his own good, and hers, for that matter. She fully expected him to try to lure her into his home tonight on some pretext. Well, no, she wouldn’t yield. Pre-empting the scenario, Flora had told him that she had to be back in good time, because she had a date.