A Room at the Manor

by Julie Shackman

  ‘Put me down now!’ I yelled, thumping his back with my fists. ‘This is not funny! Put me down, you bastard, or I’ll kick you somewhere delicate!’

  ‘Bastard?’ laughed Vaughan. ‘That’s not very ladylike, is it? And I’d like to see you kick me somewhere delicate from up there. Physically impossible.’

  I raised my fist and gave his sinewy back another hard clout. To my satisfaction, he let out a lion-like roar. ‘Stop hitting me,’ he growled, jiggling me as he walked. ‘No need to make this worse than it needs to be. This is as embarrassing for me as it is for you.’

  I gaped in astonishment while Vaughan proceeded to say a polite ‘Hello,’ ‘Good afternoon’ and ‘Hi there’ to people he obviously recognised.

  ‘I bloody well doubt this is as embarrassing for you as it is for me! I’m the one with my arse up in the air.’

  There was a gravelly laugh in response. ‘This has to be done,’ he explained coolly as I hung on for dear life. ‘I’m going to speak and this time you are going to actually listen to what I have to say.’

  Forty-three

  Despite my incessant wriggling, Vaughan’s strong arms kept me in a vice-like grip over his shoulder.

  A horrible thought hit me squarely as I was bumped along. People I knew. People I no doubt grew up with. People who knew my mum and dad. People who went to bridge club with my late Great-aunt Hettie. People who were my customers at Thistles. Many of them would be part of this festival crowd and they were probably getting a good eyeful right now.

  I gave up wriggling and held on tight, squeezing my eyes shut. ‘I don’t know what you’re playing at, Vaughan, but you wait till I get down from here.’

  Vaughan came to a sudden, jolting stop. ‘You mean, when I put you down.’

  With a sweep of his arms I was swung downwards, catching a glimpse of blue sky as the world righted itself and my feet sunk into the grass. I blinked, steadying my feet, and realised he’d carted me near the main throng of stalls. Why had he brought me back down here?

  An inquisitive crowd gathered around us, including a thunderous Petra as she caught up. I straightened my dress and belted jacket before pinning Vaughan with a killer stare.

  ‘What the hell are you playing at?’ I spluttered, ‘you can’t just cart me across Glenlovatt, like some serving wench.’

  ‘You said it, darling,’ spat Petra.

  ‘You be quiet,’ snarled Vaughan at her from over his shoulder. ‘This is mostly your fault.’

  Petra fell silent.

  Vaughan looked at me intensely. ‘Lara, if you’d just let me—’

  ‘I’ve got to get back to the tea room,’ I butted in furiously. ‘We’re flat out and Morven will be scrambling search dogs and helicopters.’ I stepped backwards into the growing sea of expectant faces that had decided to wander over and watch. Clearly this looked more interesting than ceramic bowls and watercolours. Just then all the frustration, hurt and anger I’d been holding inside came bubbling to the surface, volcano style. ‘You’re a self-centred, arrogant arsehole,’ I burst out, fighting back tears. ‘Why couldn’t you have just stayed being a bad-tempered sod and left me alone?’

  The pain on Vaughan’s face was immediate. ‘I couldn’t stay a bad-tempered sod because of you, and I most certainly couldn’t leave you alone.’ He tugged a hand through his hair but it just tumbled back down around his face. ‘Don’t you understand, Lara? Yes, I admit I was a selfish arsehole when I first met you. But that’s the whole point. You’ve changed me.’

  A collective sigh rippled from the female spectators.

  ‘You’re this infectious bundle of beauty, kindness and perseverance.’ He gave an exasperated laugh. ‘Believe me, I tried to ignore my feelings for you for a long time.’ He took a step closer, his voice rich with emotion. ‘Then, when I realised how much Hugo meant to you, how determined you were to make Thistles a success, and then how stunning you looked at the ball …’ He issued a wicked grin. ‘And how could I forget the sight of those legs at that fashion show?’

  Laughter punched the air from a few people in the crowd.

  As I tried to conceal my blush with a tear-stained eye roll, Vaughan delivered the killer punch. ‘I want to be with you, Lara. I’m in love with you.’ He helplessly raked his long fingers through his hair again and I watched it fall back down around his face in an alluring blue-black curtain. ‘I fell for you the moment I set eyes on you but I didn’t want to admit it.’

  This made no sense. I glanced at Petra, who was looking on with a dark expression. She dragged her eyes over me and then made a move to leave.

  ‘Oh no you don’t,’ said Vaughan, snatching her by the arm. ‘You’ve got some explaining to do yourself.’

  Petra’s tanned jaw slid open. ‘How dare you speak to me like that?’ she said huffily, glancing around at the curious crowd.

  Vaughan’s brows were thunderous as he looked back at me for a moment. ‘I need Lara to hear this.’ His expression turned grim. ‘You’re not running away, Petra. For once in your life, you’re going to be honest with yourself and with everyone else.’

  ‘I am most certainly not running away,’ she barked. ‘I’ve just got more important things to do than take part in this little spectacle.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ burst Vaughan in frustration. He turned his blazing blue eyes on her even more forcefully than before. ‘If you don’t tell Lara the truth right now, I’m going to tell everyone here about the fun you had at that exclusive Edinburgh club last month.’

  Petra’s face froze. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘Wouldn’t I?’ he hissed back. ‘I’ve got nothing to lose now. I love Lara and that’s all that matters to me, whereas you can’t live without your daddy’s money.’

  Petra closed her eyes for a moment.

  Vaughan’s expression grew darker still. ‘I helped you out when you needed it that night. All I want is for you to tell Lara the truth about what’s been going on.’

  Petra tilted her chin, a look of defiance on her face.

  ‘Tell her!’ roared Vaughan, making me and the rest of the onlookers flinch.

  Petra’s fingers crawled to the pink gold shell swinging around her neck. Two dashes of colour appeared on her cheeks. ‘Oh, alright! For goodness sake.’ She gave her hair a toss. ‘That picture in the paper,’ she said finally, ‘it’s not what it looks like.’

  ‘What?’ I asked dumbly, but Vaughan’s hot glare persuaded me to listen.

  ‘You really are a bit slow, aren’t you?’ observed Petra.

  ‘Petra, I’m warning you,’ threatened Vaughan. ‘Just get on with it.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ She gave the inquisitive festival goers a condescending bat of her eyelashes. ‘That newspaper photo of Vaughan and me was probably from about eighteen months ago.’

  I wrinkled my brow.

  Boredom settled on Petra’s fake-tanned features as she examined her nails. ‘My family have got a lot of contacts at that paper. I persuaded the diary editor to reprint that picture as a favour, and gave him an exclusive about some possible wedding plans to keep it interesting.’ She looked up at me, a tiny smile skirting around the corners of her red-lipped mouth.

  ‘But why?’ I puzzled. ‘Why would you do that?’

  Petra flicked her pale gaze over me incredulously. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ She inclined her head at Vaughan. ‘For some bizarre reason, he’s nuts about you.’ Her statement was hard and without emotion. ‘I was jealous, okay?’

  My memory dug deep, recalling the moment I saw the newspaper left open in the tea room, and a flash of someone leaving. ‘Hang on. You deliberately left that newspaper in Thistles, didn’t you?’ I challenged. ‘You wanted me to see the photo of you and Vaughan together.’

  Biting her lip, Petra tossed her hair back over her shoulders.

  Pulling my attention away from Petra wasn’t difficult. I wanted to see Vaughan’s face. A light-headed sensation stole over me. ‘So you’re not seeing Petra?’

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nbsp; Petra bored voice chimed in first. ‘She catches on fast.’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ confirmed Vaughan with a sharp look at his former girlfriend. ‘That was what I was trying to tell you. How could I be interested in anyone else when you’re around?’ He fixed Petra with another stony look. ‘Especially someone who tries to wreck all the hard work you’ve put into the tea room.’

  My mind reeled. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Vaughan jerked his head in Petra’s direction. ‘I believe you had a visit recently from the council’s Environmental Health department.’

  ‘Yes,’ I faltered.

  Vaughan grimaced. ‘Three guesses who arranged that.’

  All heads turned to look at the blushing blonde.

  ‘The inspector’s business card fell out of her bag the other day when she dropped in uninvited, yet again,’ explained Vaughan. He reached into his trouser pocket and brandished the small white card high in the air. ‘What a busy girl you’ve been, Petra.’

  She raised her neck as if to launch into some verbal tirade, before thinking better of it.

  ‘So,’ Vaughan said to me through a small smile, ‘I think I’ve managed to keep you quiet long enough to explain everything. Any questions?’ He reached out and took my hand in his. ‘I don’t know what you’ve done to me. Once upon a time the idea of me declaring my undying love in front of a crowd would have brought me out in hives.’

  Undying love? My mouth dropped open in another unappealing shape. What an idiot I’d been. But why had it taken so long for him to explain all this to me?

  ‘Go on!’ yelled a woman in a floral dress. ‘Kiss him, otherwise I will!’

  ‘Oh, sod it!’ I cried, throwing my arms around Vaughn’s neck and putting my lips on his. A moan escaped from his throat as he pinned me against his chest.

  The wolf whistles and ripples of applause continued even after we finally drew apart. Over Vaughan’s shoulder I could see Petra’s billowing dress as she strode back towards the house, yelling into her mobile. I gazed up at Vaughan, who was grinning down at me.

  ‘I’ve got something for you.’

  He turned me around and led me down an incline, away from now dispersing crowd and in the direction of the mausoleum. I could now see Travis stationed beside a large object, concealed under a draping blue velvet cloth.

  ‘Perhaps you’ve noticed that I was away a lot recently,’ began Vaughan with a tinge of apprehension. ‘Well, this is what I was doing.’ His fingers tightened around mine as we approached the covered object. ‘I just couldn’t seem to get the inspiration I needed here to finish this particular piece. A master marble sculptor I really admire agreed to mentor me through it. Only thing is, his studio is way out in the Ayrshire countryside. That’s why I’ve had to disappear of late. That, and,’ he added with a chuckle, ‘I wasn’t going to get anything done with you here distracting me.’

  I rolled my eyes at him and then noticed a slight tremor in his hand. ‘Are you shaking?’ I asked softly.

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ he laughed, a little too quickly.

  I couldn’t quite believe it: Vaughan Carmichael, the arrogant artist, was nervous. Smiling, I turned towards Travis.

  With a theatrical flourish, he removed the cloth, leaving me gasping.

  Forty-four

  I was spellbound.

  ‘The bust of your mum, ‘I whispered. ‘The one you hadn’t finished.’

  Vaughan’s fingers teased mine. ‘Do you like it? I mean, I’ve spent hours holed up finishing it and I’ve almost lost the woman I love because of it but, you know, no pressure.’

  I ignored his joking tone and tentatively moved towards the piece, almost expecting her to open her eyes. The bust had been set on a stone plinth. The sun created a halo-like effect around the white marble face and sculpted shoulders. Vaughan had portrayed his mother perfectly, from the arch of her eyebrows to the slight tilt of her nose. ‘She’s beautiful,’ I murmured, running an appreciative finger down a deep fold of hair and along the silky looking material covering her shoulders.

  ‘You are beautiful,’ he smiled. ‘I don’t know what you’ve done to me, Lara.’

  I smiled up at him and took his hand, wandering right around the bust and marvelling at the delicate curve of her shoulders, the intricate waves in her hair and the planes of her face, which Vaughan had captured so hauntingly. An image of him shirtless, toiling over his work as he carved and polished, suddenly came to mind. I could see the muscles sliding under his skin, perfecting every detail, and my skin fizzed at the thought of it.

  ‘So,’ I said, ‘this is what you’ve been secretly working on.’

  ‘Yes,’ confirmed Vaughan, ‘with the emphasis fully on “working”. I wasn’t out clubbing with Petra, or anyone else, for that matter. I was holed up sculpting this.’

  Vaughan lifted his hand to caress the curve of my face. His touch sent bolts of excitement sizzling through my stomach. ‘I started that bust of Mum years ago, before she died. I was really happy with how it was coming along and was all set to present it to her on her birthday.’ A heavy sigh interrupted his words. ‘Then, when we lost her so suddenly, I couldn’t bear to look at it, let alone think about finishing it. I stashed it away in the corner. A few times I thought about trying to return to it but the motivation just wasn’t there until you came along.’

  A few of the festival attendees were now circling the bust and giving compliments. They stood back in admiration, drinking in its ethereal beauty.

  ‘You were my inspiration to finish it, Lara.’

  I shook my head in wonder. How could I have been so wrong?

  The sound of gravel cracking and spitting under heavy tyres made me look up at the house, where Petra was clambering into a black beast of a car. It squealed off down the drive, sending more gravel flying.

  Vaughan’s gaze followed mine. ‘I knew she could be manipulative, but I had no idea she’d stoop as low as she did.’

  ‘She must have liked you a lot to go to those lengths,’ I admitted.

  Vaughan tilted a dark eyebrow. ‘Petra liked the thought of becoming the lady of Glenlovatt far more.’

  We took a few steps away from the art lovers and stood close together, admiring his family home. Its honey toned splendour was breathtaking today under the shifting sky and changing trees.

  ‘If we can keep these festival events going, plus the tours and the tea room . . .’ I began.

  ‘We?’

  Heat radiated from my face. ‘Oh, sorry. That was presumptuous.’

  Vaughan tilted his face to mine. He kissed me more hungrily this time, pressing his hard body into me. And this time my mouth and body responded just as eagerly, without fear of a large audience.

  ‘Ahem. Vaughan?’

  I pulled away, shocked. Gordon and Travis were loitering nearby on the grass.

  Gordon could barely hide his pleasure. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you both but Hugo’s solicitor will be arriving soon. It’s time to hear what the old fellow was up to.’

  Forty-five

  I stuck my head into the tea room to be greeted by Morven’s harassed expression.

  ‘Where the hell have you been? You were only supposed to be gone for half an hour.’

  Greta jerked her head at Morven. ‘She’s been worried sick. She even thought you might have quit and done a runner.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ I laughed a little awkwardly. ‘As if.’

  At the counter, Greta and Logan were spinning closed the last bags of scones for lingering customers and turning off the coffee machine for the day, while Becky and Jess were clearing tables and cleaning up the kitchen.

  Vaughan’s apologetic face leaned around the corner beside mine. ‘Please don’t blame Lara for going AWOL. It’s all my fault.’

  Morven answered with a slow smile. ‘Oh, I see.’

  I tried very hard not to blush. ‘So, anyway, we have to go to hear the reading of Hugo’s letter. I’m so sorry about this. Will you be okay?’
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  Greta bustled backwards and forwards behind the cake counter like a silver battleship. ‘We can manage here, love—it’s almost closing, anyway.’ Logan didn’t look as convinced but I called out my grateful thanks as we left.

  With anticipation hanging in the air, Vaughan, Gordon, Travis and I filed into Gordon’s study. A window was open, delivering the animated chatter of the slowly dispersing crowd.

  Mr Chalmers, Hugo’s solicitor, shook hands with each of us in turn. After exchanging a few pleasantries, we all sat down in a semicircle of chairs that Travis had hurriedly pulled together.

  Gordon looked apprehensive as he poured tea for everyone. I had only known Hugo for a short while, but in that time I’d realised what an unpredictable force of nature he was. Goodness knows what was in the thick, creamy envelope that Mr Chalmers had now pulled from his leather briefcase.

  Vaughan stretched his long legs out in front of him and reached for my hand. Today had been a rollercoaster of emotions. One minute, I was wandering around with a broken heart; the next, I was being carted across the grass by the man I thought I had lost forever. I was still swimming along on a tide of happy disbelief when Mr Chalmers cleared his throat and began reading Hugo’s letter.

  ‘“If you are reading this, dear family, it must be the twenty-seventh of October. I hope you are all well and that Glenlovatt is going from strength to strength. I loved this place with every part of my being. It has the capacity to bewitch and enchant everyone who visits.”’

  Mr Chalmers paused slightly before he continued.

  ‘“I have a story I wish to share with you all now that I am gone. You see, many years ago, during my youth, I was bewitched and enchanted by a young lady.”’

  Vaughan, Gordon and I exchanged raised eyebrows.