A horse neighed a few feet to my left, which startled me, making me jump two feet into the air as I approached the mansion. Of course there would be horses. I felt like I was in Old Britain, where people wore corsets and rode horses everywhere. A middle-aged man in a driving cap, jeans, a parka, and a red nose came to greet me. He had thinning brown hair, and I could see a small resemblance between him and Tommy. This must be the nephew. A woman followed him hurriedly, shouting at the man and waving her arms.
"We have a guest! George, we have a guest!"
I assumed they didn’t get many last-minute guests.
"Welcome to Parc-Le-Bouveret House. My name is George and I’m the head of the house." The man held out his hand, and when I went to shake it, he bent down and kissed it instead. I had a feeling this was going to be a great trip.
"Thank you. It looks absolutely lovely." I waved at Tommy as he got back into his cab to leave.
"This is my wife, Helen, and she’ll be around when I’m not, or sometimes we’re here together. We live just a short walk away."
"Fortunately, and unfortunately," Helen sniggered. She was short and thin, dressed in chinos and a cardigan. She had short blond hair and horn-rimmed glasses.
George took my suitcase and the three of us walked up to the front of the house. Helen held the door open for me, and I was greeted by fellow travelers who were lounging in the common area just next to the check-in desk. The place was seemingly built of wood. Aging wooden walls, wooden tables, and wooden accents gave it a ‘hunting lodge’ vibe. A looming, marbled fireplace and a couple of leather Chesterfield couches made up the common room, and tall, red velvet curtains were pulled to the side of the tall windows.
"This is our common room, which as you can see is used often. Our guests meet up here in the morning for the horse rides, to play games, and lounge by the fire, which isn’t going at the moment because it’s fairly warm today." Helen waved hello to the other guests in the common area and showed me to the check-in desk just outside the common room. I shivered; the last breath of cool air from outside whooshed by my skin as the door shut behind us. If this was warm for Wales, I was in for a rude awakening.
"Our hot breakfast is complimentary and we do take custom orders, so just be sure to let us know the night before. Breakfast starts at 8 a.m., and ends at 10 a.m. If you want a hot dinner, it’s a small fee, but we do have a full menu that you can choose from. We source everything locally and everything is organic. Our beef is grass-fed. We try to do traditional British and Welsh food, so that’s always fun. Our recipes actually come from the original house cooks who worked for the Vivian family. They resided here from 1800 to 1927. We eat in the dining room, which has been preserved since it was built sometime in the early 1800s. It’s one of the oldest parts of the house." She looked around and went behind the desk. She handed me a small brochure, which I then put in my purse. She took out an aging binder and began to leaf through the papers contained inside.
"We don’t have a computer yet, so I still have to do this by hand." She went through each page, muttering, until she excitedly withdrew a piece of paper and held it out to me. "Ah. Here it is. This is our single ensuite room. Took me awhile to find… we normally get couples here so it was all the way in the back of the binder!" She chuckled, and I tried to smile, but it just turned into a weak, lopsided smirk. Great.
"I’ll take it."
I was eager to get into my room and take a hot shower. Dinner would be at 7 p.m. That was perfect. It gave me time to decompress a bit. Helen finished up the paperwork, which consisted of an old manual credit card imprinter, something I hadn’t seen since I was a kid. I looked around the common room to see what the other guests were like.
I saw a young couple, both with brown hair, cuddling and kissing on one of the Chesterfields. Another older couple sat across from them playing what looked to be Scrabble, and a family of four lounged on the floor in front of the fireplace, reading. Obviously, relaxation was a central theme here.
"Alright, Charlotte, here is your key. Your room is just around the corner there, on the right side of the stairs and down the hallway a bit. Oh, and before I forget," she went back to her binder and pulled out a long piece of paper that had been folded in half, "here is the menu for dinner in case you want to look it over. You can order at the table, but I find guests like to know what we'll be serving ahead of time." She smiled warmly and waved goodbye as I hoisted my suitcase to my room. "Did you need help with that?" she shouted as I walked down the hall.
"No, thank you. I’ve got it. Thank you." I’ve got it.
The room was small but comfortable, with red carpet and leather furniture. The bed had a raw wooden frame, and the mattress was fitted with white sheets and a fluffy white comforter. A fur blanket sat at the end, folded perfectly. I set my suitcase down and went over to the blanket, petting it softly. It was real fur. There was no TV – hence the games in the common room – and the bathroom had a claw foot tub. Luxurious, white bath towels were folded on a small stool near the bathtub. The window in my room looked out onto the stables, and I noticed it was almost dark outside.
I closed the curtains and undressed. I started filling up the bath: a little too hot, just the way I liked it. I put on the white cotton robe that hung on the hook behind the bathroom door, and slipped my feet into the cotton slippers that lay poised on the stone floor. I'd thought fleetingly about calling Amara or Harry, but I couldn’t spoil this feeling. I felt so comfortable and taken care of. Nestled here, in the plush robe, in this quaint lodge in Wales… I hadn’t realized it before, but this was exactly the kind of place I needed to be. Paris or Rome would’ve been distracting. This was the place to do some thinking, and to find my happiness again.
Helen felt like a mother to me already. I didn’t speak to my real mother (or father, for that matter) as often as I’d wanted, and they had no idea I was in Wales, so I would have to call them at some point to let them know too. I cringed at the thought of them calling the house while Anna was there, and her telling them that Harry and I had separated and she was living in my house, free of charge. My parents would have a field day.
I stepped into the too-hot bath and inched into the scalding water slowly, as the heat was almost unbearable. Almost. I lathered my body with soap and shampooed my hair, slowly and sensually, taking my time. By the time my cheeks were red and my fingers pruned, it was time to get out to go to dinner. I dried off and brushed my hair, but I made the mistake of stepping into the warm robe that had been sitting on the towel heater. The warmth made me want to cozy up and go to sleep right at that moment. The familiar feeling of complete fatigue overtook me and I decided to lie down on the bed and close my eyes for just a second before changing for dinner.
***
I awoke with a start, not knowing where I was or what time it was. Things slowly started to come into focus, and I remembered where I was. I quickly checked the clock: 8:15 p.m. Shit, shit, shit. I was over an hour late for dinner. I hoped it wasn’t too big of a deal, but still, I didn’t want to be rude. I didn’t know if dinner was a casual come-when-you-can, or if it was a formal sit-down affair. I hoped it wasn’t the latter. More importantly, I was ravenous and I wanted to be sure I got something to eat.
I quickly changed into my leggings and threw on my flats, a clean t-shirt, and my new, navy blue, oversized cashmere sweater. My hair was dry already, although I quickly realized I hadn’t blow-dried it. I had been blessed with both frizzy and curly hair (all at once), so letting it dry naturally was pretty much out of the question. I’d splurged on my blow dryer at home and thanked my former self from twenty-four hours ago for thinking to pick up a cheap travel-sized one for the trip. Unfortunately, right now I didn’t really have the time to dry it, so I threw it into a bun and pretended it didn’t look as bad as I knew it did. I quickly gargled some mouthwash, grabbed my room key, and headed downstairs.
I heard voices coming from the dining room and hoped not too many people would notice my late a
rrival. As I crept up to the door, I heard Helen say she was serving the main courses. I wasn’t that late after all. Maybe it wasn’t a formal affair. I hoped. I opened the door slowly, but the rungs were rusty and a loud creak escaped. Everyone got silent and watched me as I closed the door slowly behind me, which only seemed to make the squeaking noise louder.
As I turned to face the crowd, I noticed a few familiar faces. Tommy, my cab driver, waved at me as I found a seat at the end of the table. Next to him was George, who was seated next to Helen, who stood serving the main course from a big pot. On the other side of Helen were the young, brunette couple, and then the family of four who had been reading earlier, and then the older couple next to them. A few more faces I didn’t recognize looked at me with both surprise and annoyance, depending on the face, so when I sat down, I explained.
"I’m sorry I’m late. I fell asleep."
The kids from the family snickered, and I felt my face get hot. Being embarrassed and also very pale meant that my cheeks would turn tomato red any time something like this happened. I put my hands to my cheeks like I was rubbing my face, hoping to disguise any sort of red hue that I knew would be taking over.
"No worries, dear. We know you had a long trip from Los Angeles. I made a little extra for you, just in case, so I hope you’re fine with Welsh rarebit, which is like our version of grilled cheese. We also have a salad, potatoes, and vegetarian sausages that we call Glamorgan. Ben and Julia are vegetarian, so we decided to make a special meal for their last night." Helen gestured to the older couple, who were now smiling at me politely.
Helen finished serving everyone, and as she sat down, I noticed a man at the other end of the table staring at me. He had dark brown hair, dark eyes, and a scruffy beard. He was handsome; really handsome, but he probably didn’t even know it. Even his hair, which I noticed was unkempt, looked artfully messy and ironically put together considering he was a little disheveled and dirty. He was wearing a crème sweater that accentuated his olive skin. I gave him a small smile, but he just stared back at me, shook his head, and looked down.
"How’s the place treatin’ you?" Tommy leaned across the table while he ate, and I had to yell to get him to hear me.
"Great! It was so relaxing to take a bath and freshen up."
He smiled, and I was sure he hadn’t heard me that time either. Helen was now sitting next to George, having served the main dish to everyone. I looked down at the meal. I’d never had Welsh rarebit, but I’d try anything once. I took a bite, and my mouth was immediately filled with saliva because the rarebit was delicious. It was like a creamy, cheesy dream.
"Ermagod," I said, with my mouth still half full. "This is incredible." I quickly took another bite.
"I’m glad you like it. It’s just cheese on toast. I wish it were more posh than that, but everyone loves cheese on toast. The Americans call it a grilled cheese, and the French call it a croque monsieur. Its origins come from the First World War, when meat was rationed. We had to come up with a meatless meal, which, for Wales – or all of Britain for that matter – was quite difficult. But I think this dish was a success."
I nodded in agreement.
"Charlotte, have you met everyone yet?" George was chewing his meal loudly and quickly. Helen smacked his wrist and he closed his mouth.
"No, I haven’t."
"Everyone, this is Charlotte. She joins us from Los Angeles." He said this loud and clear; to make sure everyone at the table could hear. A few people muttered "Hey, Charlotte", but for the most part, everyone continued eating. I supposed my late arrival had seemed rude to some. Especially to the guy at the end of the table, who was now glaring at me between bites, like it was a game.
"Well, you know Helen and Tommy, or Thomas, my uncle. Next to him are Lucy and Ted, who are joining us from Tennessee. Next to them are the Braines." He leaned over and whispered to me. "That’s really their name, and they’re very smart, as if to rub it in our faces."
I laughed. They were eating with perfect table manners. They must not be American. They all looked perfectly put together and polite. I couldn’t help but notice that all four of them were wearing glasses.
"The Braine’s are from London. Next to them are Ben and Julia, from Australia. Unfortunately, it’s their last night."
I looked at the couples; Lucy and Ted from Tennessee, Ben and Julia from Australia. Couples. I was the odd one out. I hoped no one asked me why I was here.
"Finally, near the end of the table, we have the maid and cook, Katie, the night manager, Henry, and the groom, Alec." He gestured to the tall, dark, creepy man at the end of the table.
"The groom?" I felt stupid for asking, but I didn’t know what that was.
"I tend to the horses." Alec had spoken up, and his voice was deep and husky. He had a lilt to his voice, pronouncing horses as "harses", and I suspected he wasn’t Welsh. But my understanding of different regional British accents wasn’t great, so I really had no idea.
"Oh. Got it." I smiled at him, but he just looked at me like I was an idiot and continued eating.
I sat there eating in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the cheese on toast and helping myself to seconds of the Glamorgan, which were surprisingly good for vegetarian sausages. The wine was flowing, and pretty soon I was full and a little bit tipsy. I felt a bit dizzy, but chalked it up to jet lag and too much wine.
Soon after I finished, the Braine family went to the common room, probably to read. Ben and Julia went to their rooms to pack for their long flight in the morning, wishing me well as they left. Lucy and Ted followed them, waving goodbye. Katie got up to do the dishes, and George left with Tommy, saying they were going out back to smoke a pipe. Helen was talking to Henry, and pretty soon they were gone, too. As I slowly sipped the rest of my wine, I noticed that Alec was still seated. He was swirling his wine around in his glass, and he was looking down at his hands.
"Are you from the area?" I quipped, hoping to break the awkward silence that had fallen over the table in the last few minutes of dinner, and continued still.
"No." He didn’t look up as he said this. I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.
"Oh. Where are you from?" He stayed silent, and continued swirling his wine.
"Northern Ireland."
I guessed I wasn’t going to get much out of this guy. I got up to leave. He was still staring at his wine glass. I wondered if he was a jerk to everyone, or just people who were late for dinner.
"Well, I’m heading up. Good night," I said awkwardly. I doubted he cared. Alec didn’t glance up or move. "Helen mentioned briefly that you do horse trekking?"
"Yep."
"Where can I sign up?"
"With Helen."
"Great." I waited. He didn’t say anything else. "OK, night."
I walked away, wishing I hadn’t stayed to talk to Alec. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk to me. I brushed it off and walked to my room. It had been a long day. I was ready for a good night’s sleep. I wanted to wash everything away and wake up feeling like a new person.
***
I woke up multiple times during the night, with visions of Amara in her wedding dress. At 6 a.m., I rose out of bed unrested, but unable to fall back asleep. The window was frosty, and even though it was June, the grass outside was covered in ice and my breath came out in small puffs of white steam. I turned the heater up and sat in the chair next to the window, staring outside. It was already light out, but the misty fog indicated the early hour.
I was startled to see Alec up so early. He made his way down the driveway, and into the stables, which I had a clear view of right from my window. I watched him as he unfastened one of the horses, petting it gently. I smiled when I realized his lips were moving. He was talking to the horse. He stroked the mane and zipped up his jacket. He jumped up onto the horse and rode away.
Since I couldn’t sleep, and since breakfast wouldn’t be served for another two hours, I put on my sweater and my jacket, brushed my teeth, and slipped on
my flats, hoping to go for a foggy morning walk. No one was around when I left, and the fire crackled in the fireplace, untended. It was so cozy here. I walked down the driveway and glanced over at the stables. Alec was nowhere to be seen. I made my way down the dirt driveway to the main road and followed it for a few miles. It felt good to move. The flats I was wearing weren’t meant for walking long distances, so I knew it would be a relatively short walk. Pretty soon, the balls of my feet started to ache. It was starting to warm up. The sun had broken through the fog, and I decided it was time to make my way back down the road towards the Parc. I removed my sweater. I'd started to sweat from the sun beating down on me.
It was beautiful here. I was still in awe that I was on the other side of the world. Harry had left me just yesterday. That thought was so weird. I already felt like a different person here. I might’ve been a tad disappointed when I found out that Wales would be my destination, but in my mind it had to have been fate. I smiled and waved at the people I passed on my walk. They were all so nice and friendly. This would be the perfect setting for me to figure my life out. I felt like I was in a Jane Austen novel.
Just as I crossed the street towards the driveway that led up to the Parc, I heard galloping behind me. I jumped out of the way just in time. Alec flew by on a horse, not even noticing me.
"Hey! Watch out!" I yelled after him, angrily.
He stopped snappishly, turning around and walking the horse towards me. He stopped two feet away, looking down. He looked so statuesque sitting atop a horse like that. I had to fight the urge to smile.
"Don’t worry. I saw you." His tone was innocent but the sparkle in his eyes said otherwise. His face was flushed from riding, and he was out of breath. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled at me. I felt my stomach flutter.
The Foretelling (Charlotte Bloom #1) Page 8
