by Fiona Walker
‘Sounds like my father.’
‘There are parallels,’ she agreed sardonically. ‘He had a great passion for hunting, especially big game. He was a renowned shot, but he was also a skilled archer. Seth’s great-grandfather Ram was his adjutant. He was in the 16th Infantry in British-occupied India, a fearless sower – so-called because he was a cavalryman who carried a sword – and also a brilliant horseman. With Ram’s help, Hock Mytton led legendary tiger hunts in Simla. He was the only British officer who could ever boast that he had killed a Himalayan tiger with a bow and arrow. I believe that tiger’s skin served as a rug in the main house until Constance’s death.
‘Ram was a loyal and discreet adjutant, which cannot have been easy with a man like Hock Mytton as his commanding officer. Hock had many mistresses and relied upon Ram to cover his tracks. One of those mistresses, who was very highly strung and equally highly married, became pregnant with Hock’s child. The affair seemed destined to ruin his military career. Then she shot herself. The circumstances are very suspicious – the note she left was clearly fabricated – but her death was officially recorded as suicide. It was rumoured that her child’s birth would have revealed the father. That she had been having an affair was common knowledge, although her lover was known only to a very few among the highest British élite. That élite closed ranks, refocusing the blame on Hock Mytton’s adjutant.
‘Ram took the blame for her pregnancy more or less as a military order. He accepted full responsibility, dutifully and without protest. He had no choice. He was naturally court-martialled and expelled from the army for gross misconduct and his family were dishonoured. They lost their position in Indian society, expelled from the Kshatriya caste and becoming untouchable. Ram died in poverty, but not before he had sold his medals to pay for his oldest son’s passage to England.
‘That was Seth’s grandfather, who arrived in this country with nothing, and built a business from scratch. Seth adored him. He loved to listen to his memories of India in change and revolution. He learned of the injustice Ram had suffered at the hands of a man named Hock Mytton.’
‘Seth bought the Eardisford Estate to avenge his great-grandfather,’ Dougie realized.
‘It narrowed down the choice, shall we say?’ Dollar’s eyebrows lifted. ‘There is a certain Schadenfreude in taking something that was of such value to an enemy and treating it as no more than a business asset. Seth bought Hock Mytton’s ancestral home as easily as you or I would buy an antique vase. He loved that.’ She moved towards him again. ‘And you are the bunch of flowers he bought to make that vase smell so much sweeter.’
Furious that he had allowed himself to be bought, Dougie was even more put out to be described as a bunch of flowers.
‘Of course you have turned out to be more thorny than we anticipated,’ she went on, the dark eyes glowing. ‘I take responsibility for that. As you know, I had more than field sports in mind when I head-hunted you.’ Her gaze lingered on his bare chest where his shirt was still open. ‘I loved Dark Knight and I told Seth he must see it. Like many women, I found you most attractive in the part, and also later in High Noon. I knew that you would not only make the perfect huntsman, but also a sublime suitor.’
Dougie thought about Kat and felt an ache of regret so strong he had to turn away, anger flaring. ‘I should never have agreed to come here.’
‘We left you with little choice.’
‘You can’t stop me leaving.’
‘Not if you take me with you.’ She was standing just a few feet away now and the tension in her voice was almost palpable, a wellspring of emotion threatening to burst through the carefully modulated calm. ‘I have to get away.’
Dougie felt his anger evaporate as he understood how vulnerable she really was beneath the rigid self-control. ‘Dollar, are you frightened by Igor? Are you in danger?’
‘Of course not,’ she said indignantly. ‘I could kill him with my bare hands if he tried to force himself on me.’
‘Would that be wise?’
‘I could kill you with my bare hands if you do not force yourself on me.’ She smouldered up at him. ‘Now, we will make love.’ She exploded against him again, a whip of tension. ‘Hold me!’
Dougie could feel the heat of her body against his but otherwise nothing, except a cold, clammy fear that he was in a lot deeper trouble than he’d imagined.
Chapter 57
Eardisford’s grand façade was lit up as Kat headed home from the pub, a luxury cruise liner out in its dark sea of parkland, glittering at her between the masts of the trees as she took the track through Herne Covert. She was strangely cheered to think of it occupied and vibrant once more, no longer a Mary Celeste dry-docked amid its skeletal gardens, although she wasn’t certain Constance would approve of the house guests, or indeed the new master.
That rather depends which master you are referring to. She heard Constance’s throaty laugh in her head. Eardisford needs an old-fashioned rake like Dougie Everett, Katherine. Guts, good manners and a passion for country sports are prerequisites.
Constance would have adored Dougie. Kat rarely heard her voice in her head when they were alone together. In fact, she’d hardly heard it at all in recent weeks. Now, however, she was in full flow.
He is so like the legendary Mytton men, with that quick charm and even quicker temper. Impossible to control a man like that. Equally impossible to resist. Whatever possessed you to try to do so, Katherine?
He was fooling me all along.
You were fooling yourself. Look at your friend and Dair. I always said he was a jolly good man. Your friend saw it straight away. You can see it in Dougie Everett, but will you admit it?
The chemistry between Dawn and Dair had come as a surprise to Kat, and made her acutely aware that her physical attraction to Dougie was still top-shelved in a glass jar marked Handle With Care. An overturned periodic table of combustion and synthesis occurred each time she found herself beneath his Bunsen burner gaze. She could no longer deny her desire, her total loop-the-loop belly-lurch whenever he was near, the fierce burn in her heart. His voice was a perpetual, obsessive echo in her head. Now she knew that he had refused to hunt with Seth’s guest, she was desperate to see him, to ask him to reconsider helping her with the Bolt. She wanted him to look her in the eyes and dare her to do it again.
Stopping to gather her post from the box at the first gate – it was crammed full – she listened to the millstream roaring and looked across towards the deeper woods where Dougie lived. His recent rebellion meant he might not be partying at the big house as she’d imagined. He might even be at home.
A twig cracked behind her and she swung around, terriers growling at her ankles, but there was no movement among the twilit trees. Kat was accustomed to the noises of the Eardisford Estate, and its animals both wild and domesticated on the loose. Nevertheless, she turned and hurried along the track, post clutched to her chest. Then, adrenalin making her heart leap, like a salmon swimming upstream, she cut right across the narrow wooden bridge that spanned the roaring chase and raced towards the mill house, approaching with the huge wheel ahead of her, shadowed in the glow from glass wall behind it like a giant hoopla ring.
Through it, silhouetted on the opposite side of the full-length windows, a couple were kissing as though their lives depended upon it. The woman was climbing up around the man in a way Kat hadn’t seen since Nick had propped his smart-phone on the pillow with a porn movie streaming. The woman was dark, exotic and appeared to be a trained contortionist from where Kat was standing. The man with his back pressed to the glass was unmistakably Dougie.
Kat slid to a halt, her heart feeling as though it was rupturing into her throat.
As she turned to flee back towards Lake Farm, she crashed straight into a huge figure dressed in black. Before she could scream, he hushed her with one big gloved hand to her mouth, the other gripping her shoulders to pull her into the shadows.
‘Will you – please – get – off me!’
Dougie wrestled away again, barely able to breathe after Dollar had suctioned him to the glass with urgent kisses. ‘I really don’t think this is a good idea. You are beautiful and clever and hugely desirable, Dollar, and it was fun while it lasted, but this is seriously bad timing. I am not having sex with you right now, or running away with you for that matter.’
‘We must go together. I have it all worked out.’
‘I’ve made other plans.’
‘You are in love with somebody else!’ she snarled jealously.
Dougie looked at the black, ferocious anger in her face. Unmasked, she was terrifying. He hurriedly tried to deflect her with a few clichés. ‘I hardly know you, Dollar.’
‘We will get to know one another.’
‘I’m a shit to be around for more than five minutes.’
‘So am I.’
‘I love horses and dogs.’
‘I love Indian thrash metal and kick-boxing. We both need me-time.’ Her deep voice was staccato and ferociously determined. ‘As soon as the deal with Igor has been secured, we will fly to LA. I will be your manager. You will be a very big star. You just need discipline.’
He closed his eyes, appalled at the thought, aware that the truth was probably his best ally right now. ‘You’re right, Dollar, there is somebody else.’
‘Is it still Kiki?’
The name broadsided him. He hadn’t thought about Kiki for weeks. He must be a better actor than he’d thought if Dollar hadn’t twigged who it really was, and that the huntsman had become totally enraptured by his own quarry. All that nonchalant deflection he’d given out in their many progress calls had laid a false trail. However much he longed to be honest – saying it out loud would feel so good – he didn’t want to get Kat into any more danger and it seemed imperative to protect her. So he pulled his mouth into the inverted smile his father had used when lying to parliamentary committees and gave a ghost of a nod. ‘I’m not ready for another relationship.’
The response was extraordinary and immediate.
‘You should have said.’ She let him go, straightening her dress and gathering her computer tablet from the table. ‘I would not have wasted our time tonight had I known that both our affections already lie elsewhere. That is a very poor statistical start for a relationship.’
‘Both our affections?’
‘My plan relied entirely upon your narcissism. It is too much of a risk if you love another woman. I will have to turn to my contingency plan.’ She tapped her tablet to life and flicked through its carousel of files to a spreadsheet. ‘You will need a new job, Dougie.’
‘“Brides List”,’ Dougie read over her shoulder, his heart plummeting. ‘I am not about to marry somebody —’
‘These are not your brides, Dougie. They are intended for somebody else.’
Reading the list of Indian girls’ names, Dougie remembered Dollar telling him that Seth would be entering into an arranged marriage. These, it appeared, were his choice of matches. And Dollar – who, he was quite certain, was very much in love with her boss – was scrolling down them like a hit list, selecting and deleting the majority with relish.
‘There are now only three left to get rid of,’ she murmured darkly, almost to herself.
‘What have you done to the others?’
She looked up at him, eyes glowing. ‘This may take all of your considerable charm, Dougie.’
‘The answer is no!’ He held up his hands. ‘Absolutely not. Whatever it is.’
‘You don’t have to marry them,’ she reassured him. ‘Just seduce them.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘But I will pay you —’
‘No,’ he repeated firmly.
She turned off the tablet with a huff. ‘Then I must rethink. I am very disappointed in you, Dougie.’ She glanced up at the wall clock. ‘Seth will have noticed I am missing. I must get back to the party. Do not leave Eardisford this weekend. Igor’s visit must go smoothly. You remain cricket captain. The professionals will play. Seth will bat third. Tell him nothing of this conversation. If you break your word or your contract there will be very serious consequences. And, you will remember, I always carry a gun.’ She reached down and drew a tiny handgun from her stocking top in a move so fabulously Bond, Dougie had to smile, albeit very nervously, especially when there was a loud cry outside, agonized and guttural. She instinctively flicked the safety catch and flattened back against the wall.
‘It’s just a muntjac deer barking,’ he told her. ‘Probably heard Igor’s here.’
Kat looked down guiltily to where Russ was reeling on the ground, clutching his crotch and groaning, his eyes watering.
‘You know you should never grab me from behind,’ she hissed. ‘What are you doing prowling around here? I thought you were at nets.’
He didn’t have a chance to answer as the mill house’s outdoor lights suddenly came on, like search lamps through the trees, a door slammed and they heard raised voices. Then a car engine started up and headlights swung away through the woods.
‘I have been at nets,’ he whispered, sitting up cautiously. ‘Got some old sab friends from Bristol to come and help me. We’ve been setting up miles of that old stock-netting from the barn to stop dogs flushing anything bigger than birds from cover and to slow the hunting party right down.’
Kat was impressed by his initiative, but wished he’d been a bit more guileful. ‘They’ll trace the stock nets straight back to Lake Farm!’
‘Of course they won’t – it’s just old sheep fencing. Even if they do, it’s not criminal damage.’ He smirked, carefully straightening up with his hands over his groin. ‘We’re all sleeping out here tonight. The Bristol lads are having a barbecue in the orchard and we want to keep the game away from Duke’s Wood. There’s boar weanlings and fawns everywhere, only just leaving their mothers’ sides.’
‘They won’t hunt those, surely?’
His eyes gleamed in the half-dark. ‘Don’t be naïve, Kat. For God’s sake, keep all the dogs in tomorrow. Now you tell me what you’re doing here.’
Kat glanced at the mill house, thinking about Dougie and Dollar against the window, and found she couldn’t speak.
Imagining she was stricken at the thought of all the animals that might get massacred at dawn, Russ folded her in his tight bear-hug. ‘We won’t let the bastards kill innocent wildlife, Kat,’ he promised.
Feeling horribly shallow – and appalled at the thought of the shooting frenzy that might be in store – Kat hugged him back.
Hurrying from the mill house to his Land Rover, determined to drive to Lake Farm and talk to Kat, Dougie saw movement in a clearing just beyond the garden and stepped quickly behind the shadow of his car, picking up Quiver before he sensed the other dogs. A couple were embracing in the last steely rays of twilight. He would have recognized that spill of red hair anywhere, along with the enormous hirsute man-mountain folded lovingly around her.
Reality hit him like a wrecking ball. Kat was obviously still hooked on Badger Man. She had always stayed loyal to him. She’d played detective for him, reported back to him on their conversations, cared for his rescued wildlife. Russ had been the one to look after her when she fell from Sri. Dougie had no right to burden her with his own overloaded heart.
Pulling the car door open so violently that the handle came off in his hand, he leaped in to drive to the high ground on the main road where there was mobile-phone reception and call his father.
When she heard another car engine, Kat pulled gratefully away from Russ – who smelt distinctly feral – and turned to see red tail-lights speeding away along the parkland track.
‘They’ll be heading for the main house,’ Russ pointed out. ‘Dougie’s bound to be a guest of honour, given he’s the estate’s resident Hollywood actor and stuntman.’ He impersonated his uncle’s drunken commentary at the village show. ‘I wonder if Seth knows that jammer’s been shagging his pretty PA from the day he got here.’
His intense dark ey
es watched Kat’s face. She was struggling not to crumple, desperate not to give herself away.
‘I’m sorry.’ He put a big, warm hand on her shoulder. ‘That was harsh. But I don’t want you getting any more hurt than you already have, Kat. Toffs like that have the same morals as their bloody hounds, and I know you’re mad about him. I’ve known all along. Animal behaviour, see?’
She hung her head, her heart feeling as though it was burning to a crisp.
He held his arms wide. ‘We were always free-range, remember? I hope you meet someone who’ll look after that ’mazing heart of yours.’
‘Like you chose Mags?’
‘You don’t choose love, Kat. It shoots you down, and sometimes its aim’s so true you can’t ever get up for anybody else.’ She saw his eyes glint through the gloom. For the first time she could remember he was making a joke at his own expense. ‘That’s forever love.’
