by Emma York
It took a few seconds for my brain to translate what he was saying. “Right, thanks. I’ll wait here.”
I took a seat by the window, looking outside at the bay. My eye moved to the castle. Even without being a potential film location, it looked beautiful. There was a wistful romance to the turrets and light stone walls, a hint of green ivy climbing towards the tiny windows high up above the door. From where I was sitting, it looked like a model, too perfect to be real. I only hoped it looked as good close up and that Robert King would grant me the permission.
“Robert.”
My ears pricked up as I heard his name mentioned. Slowly, I moved my head, listening to the talk around me. They were all talking about him, though there were several different conversations on the go at once.
“Angry enough.”
“Never got on wi’ ‘im.”
“Wouldn’t you be a bit pissed off after what happened?”
“To treat his own mother like that.”
“Back to lord it over the place.”
“Not even cold, she isn’t.”
“What was he like then?”
“Bitter.”
“I would be too.”
“Back for good?” I glanced across as one voice rose above the others. “What do you reckon, Hedley?”
The old man behind the counter was folding his apron neatly. Before answering, he pulled a woolly hat onto his head, almost covering his eyes. “Well, I'll put ten pound on him staying but I still say you should ask him yessen if you wanna know. Ahm no gossip.”
“Hedley,” the woman near me said. “Don’t be like that.”
“Come on,” he said, looking straight at me. “Let’s get gone.”
“Right,” I said. “Great.”
He held the door open for me, nodding as I passed him. Then we walked together down to the dock. He swung his leg over the boat, surprising me by how agile he was.
I threw my bag onboard, following it a second later, the boat rumbling to life. “Grab that rope,” he said, nodding past me.
I saw where he was looking and fumbled to untie the knot, getting it loose at last and then we were moving out onto the water.
I looked at my destination, seeing it grow larger as we crossed the expanse of grey blue, the boat rising, cresting over each wave.
The more I looked at it, the more I fell in love with the place. It was like something out of a fairytale, a formidable fortress. I could easily picture myself looking out from a high window, my endless hair dangling down as I awaited a knight due to rescue me at any moment.
The boat began to slow as the jetty appeared and we bumped up against it a minute later. “Out you get,” Hedley said, wrapping his rope around the pole, stopping the straining boat from drifting back out into open water.
“Thanks very much,” I replied as I clambered out onto the splintered planks.
It didn’t occur to me to ask about the return journey until he was already moving away. “How do I get back?”
“Get ‘em to ring,” he shouted, his voice fading in the distance.
I waved but he didn’t respond. Turning from the water, I looked up at the castle before me. A winding path cut through the grass, sheep nibbling nearby, seemingly completely indifferent to my presence. They didn’t even look up at me as I passed by.
I glanced around, trying to get my head into work mode, seeing the potential of the place, where the film crew could set up, how the light played on the stone, the angles of the mountains behind.
It wasn’t easy as I was overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the building, jutting up from the grass as if it was carved out of a mountain peak rather than laid stone by stone. With no sound other than the wind, it was easy to picture knights riding through into the courtyard as if they’d just gone past me, the years falling away in a moment.
I tried the door handle but it was locked. I tapped on the door but the wood was so thick it didn’t make a sound. I had to clench my fist and thud until my fingers hurt to make any noise at all.
I was just starting to wonder what I would do if there was no one there when the door creaked open. A woman in her fifties answered, her white hair tied severely back, eyes narrowing as she looked out at me. “Yes?”
“Hi, I’m Matilda Beal. I booked a stay for a couple of nights.”
“I see. I suppose you better come inside then.”
“Thank you, it’s freezing.” I said.
She stood back, watching me as I carried my bag in.
“Do you get many visitors?” The sound of my voice shrank to nothing in the vast space of the entrance hall.
“Your room is upstairs,” she replied, apparently not hearing my question. “Third door on the left. Dinner is at seven. Breakfast at eight.”
“Thank you. I wondered if…”
She’d already walked away, leaving me alone in the entrance hall. I got the feeling she would be much happier if I turned and left.
She had vanished through a door to the right. There were three other doors and then a broad flight of stairs that ascended in front of me. The walls were covered in huge oil paintings, portraits of castle residents from hundreds of years ago according to the labels underneath.
I walked up the stairs and stepped out onto a thick red carpet. I was in a wide hallway, closed doors lining the walls. The door to my room was unlocked and I walked inside to find myself in heaven.
As unfriendly as my host had been, the room couldn’t have been more welcoming. There was a four poster bed covered in blankets, a tall window with a view across the water to the far mountains. A footbridge crossed to the next island and I made a mental note to go across and explore once I’d settled in.
I was just unpacking my bag when the bedroom door burst open and a man strode inside, looming over me, scowling down as he opened his mouth to speak.
He said nothing for a long time, his eyes fixed on mine, holding me in his gaze.
He was about ten years older than me. He was handsome as hell but there was anger in his expression. High cheekbones, a mess of dark hair, stubble on his chin, dark eyes, wearing a checked shirt and plain brown cords. “What are you doing here?” he asked at last, his voice a deep rumble that made something inside me quiver.
“I booked a stay, I’m here for a couple of nights. Sorry, is there something wrong? Is this your room?”
Another long silence, me having the unnerving feeling he was examining me deeper than he should, seeing further into me than was possible from a glance. “I will see you at dinner.”
Then he was gone, slamming the door closed after him.
I found myself thinking about him after he’d gone. Was he another guest? One of the staff? Whoever he was, he had a haughty manner to him, a brooding anger that looked like it was on the verge of boiling over at any moment.
I wouldn’t have liked to have been around if he lost his temper. I could only hope that wasn’t Robert King.
FOUR - ROBERT
I went to throw her out. When I found out one of the bookings hadn’t taken the cancellation with good grace and had the audacity to show up anyway, I was ready. I was going to march into the room and demand she leave, physically drag her out myself if needed.
Then I saw her.
She was at least ten years younger than me, short, long blonde hair falling over her shoulders, framing a round face. Cute button nose, reddened cheeks from the cold outside, soft lips that drew my eye before I looked up and then I was trapped in her gaze.
I tried to remember why I’d gone in there in the first place. She was looking at me, waiting for me to say something. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak. The animal inside me rose up to take over. I wanted her and I wanted her badly.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, stalling for time, trying to get my thoughts away from tearing her clothes off and throwing her onto that bed.
“I booked a stay, I’m here for a couple of nights. Sorry, is there something wrong? Is this your room?”
> The anxiety in her voice, the softness of the words, that American accent. My cock twitched. She sounded so eager to please, so quick to apologise, already seeking my approval. It had been a very long time since I’d felt anything like this and it was almost overwhelming me. It had happened so quickly.
“I will see you at dinner.”
I had to get out of there. Any longer and I would have pounced on her. Where had my self control gone?
Once the door was shut and I was walking away, I felt more like myself, calmness beginning to descend once more. What had happened in there?
It was already feeling unreal. I had overreacted that was all. I hadn’t seen a woman like her in a long time and I wasn’t prepared for it. I’d be better when we met again at dinner, calmer, more capable of engaging in conversation, telling her that she had to go.
She had a decent body. She looked submissive, from what I’d seen of her so far. She also had a feisty side, turning up for her booking despite it being cancelled. That was naughty of her. I could spank her for something like that.
The thought had come from nowhere but it refused to go away. My hand yanking down her panties, smacking her bare ass, delving between her legs, tasting her, plunging my tongue inside.
I got to the study and closed the door behind me, needing to clear my head. My hard on throbbed painfully at the thought of her upstairs. I could go back up there, push her up against the wall, press my lips to hers, see what she tasted like.
Focus.
Concentrate.
Stop getting distracted.
I sat behind the desk, glancing at the clock on the wall. Half an hour until the estate agent was due to arrive. Just enough time to get a grip of myself.
Since arriving, there’d been a strange pang inside me, almost like guilt. There was a part of me that felt oddly at home here even after all this time. But that emotion was irrelevant to what needed to be done. The baseline figures didn’t lie. The place was in debt and the only way out was to sell up.
I’d found some of the papers relating to the place. They were badly organised and several important documents appeared to be missing. I would do some digging after the place had been valued. Then at least I’d know how much would be left over, if anything.
I concentrated on the paperwork until I heard the sound of Hedley’s boat approaching across the water, the sound of that engine one that I’d recognise anywhere.
I hadn’t even scratched the surface it seemed. There had been investments made and shares bought but the details of both were nowhere to be found. I would have to go to the bank, see if they could fill in some of the blanks for me.
The last thing I wanted was to sell the place and find out I was still liable for any of the debts. I didn’t want to think of court summonses being sent to me at the monastery, of the police being called out to drag me onto a plane, rob me of my last pennies and then lock me away because of the poor financial acumen of my mother.
I was at the door ready for his arrival. “Mr King,” he said as I opened it. “I believe you’re expecting me?”
“Yes, Mr Dacre isn’t it? Come on in.”
“Thank you. I believe you’re interested in a standard valuation.”
“Correct. What do you need to see?”
“All the rooms and proof the place is mortgage free.”
“We built it. It’s been in my family for four hundred years.”
“Ah, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t taken out a loan using the homestead as equity if you see what I mean. It’s happened before.”
“No mortgage but come through to the study and see for yourself.”
He sat at the desk and I hovered next to him, handing over each deed and contract he requested.
“How many bedrooms in total?”
“Between ten and fifteen. Some are currently being used as storage and a couple need some maintenance.”
“I need a figure.”
“Call it fifteen.”
“Kitchens?”
“Two, staff and main.”
“So you have staff quarters as well?”
“They have their own floor in the basement.”
“I’ll need to see that as well.”
“Of course. Shall we start upstairs and work down?”
“Whichever way you wish, Mr King.”
I took him up the main flight of stairs, passing by the room she was inside. I didn’t stop, I didn’t dare.
Up the next flight of stairs and the next until we reached turret level. “Four corner turrets, each with small rooms below. They all look much like this.”
It was surprising me how quickly I was able to answer. Some things I’d forgotten I even knew like the number of bedrooms.
We worked our way back down to the first floor. This time I knocked on her door but she didn’t answer. I tried it but the lock held firm. “We have one guest at the moment,” I explained. “But we can get the key if you need.”
“Is it the same as the other bedrooms?”
“Pretty much.”
“Then don’t worry. I wouldn’t want to disturb their privacy.”
Ten minutes later we were done. Hedley was still waiting by the jetty to take him back. “I’ll work through the figures and give you a formal quotation when I get to the office,” Dacre said, shaking my hand as he stood next to the boat. “But I’d say you should see a million for it, maybe one and a half if you’re selling the surrounding land as well.”
“And for a quick sale?”
“Drop it to five hundred. Good day, Mr King.”
I saw him off before returning to the castle. A million. That would be more than enough to clear the debts. The only remaining question was how quickly it could be sold. Could I leave it in Dacre’s hands and head back to Italy at once?
I shook my head as I closed the front door. Even if I could return, I wasn’t going to yet. According to the booking calendar, this Beal woman was here for two nights. I wanted to make the most of them.
There was no harm in fucking her before I got on with the job of selling the place. I wanted to know what that accent would sound like when she moaned my name.
That was all I was going to do. Last time I fell for a woman she chose money over me. That was what people were like. But this time things were going to be different. I wasn’t going to fall for her, I was just going to fuck her.
She was in the dining room when I entered that evening. She had changed into a formal dress and she looked incredible. I walked in to find her sitting at the only other place setting, a book in her hand.
“Where did you get that?” I asked, pointing down at the history of the castle.
“You know the book?”
“I’ve read it many times.”
“I found it on the bookcase in the entrance hall.”
“There is a library you should try.”
“Oh, is there, I didn’t realise?” She held a hand out towards me. “I’m Tilly by the way.”
“Rob.” I took her hand, feeling the softness of her skin, the way her fingers slipped between mine. At the same moment, I looked at her, seeing something in her eyes, something that made my cock twitch in response.
The door to my left opened before I could say anything else. Angela walked in, carrying a silver tray. She laid it in front of Tilly, lifting a plate of roast beef and vegetables.
I took my seat as another tray appeared. Once Angela had left, I turned back to Tilly, watching her cut her food into tiny pieces. “This is a long way from home, isn’t it?” I asked.
She almost dropped her fork at the question, jumping in her seat. She seemed intimidated by me. I liked it. It made me think about spanking her again.
“I have a proposition for the castle owner.”
“What kind of proposition?”
“I’m afraid it’s confidential.”
“I see.”
“Do you know him at all?”
“I know of him.”
“Are the rumours
true?”
“What rumours?”
“Well, I heard that he’s not the nicest person in the world.”
“You heard right. He’s an asshole.”
“Oh.” She sounded deflated.
The rest of the meal was conducted in silence. I ate little. Years of a monastic diet made it hard to stomach rich food. I spent most of the meal watching her.
She kept taking little glances at me whenever she thought I wasn’t looking. Then she’d look away when she caught my eye, returning to the tiny morsels of food, chewing them slowly. How did she even make eating sexy? What was she doing to me?
“Care to join me in the smoking room?” I asked, getting to my feet.
It was time to seduce her.
FIVE - TILLY
I was surprised he asked me to join him in the smoking room. He’d spent the entire dinner scowling at me. I got the impression he was waiting for me to leave. Then out of nowhere this invite for me to join him.
I was glad he did. I had no desire to be on my own and the owner of the castle didn’t seem in any rush to respond to the note I’d left with the housekeeper.
Even though he seemed furious with me, I couldn’t help looking at my fellow diner while trying to find my appetite. My stomach felt queasy, though I had no idea why. I just sat there opposite him, feeling his eyes on me, anger radiating off him. What was he so angry about? Had he hoped to vacation here alone? Was I interrupting some upper class retreat?
It was clear he had money whoever he was. From the way he spoke to his body language as he sat perfectly upright in his seat, it all spoke of a privileged upbringing quite different to my own. He looked like he'd never had to struggle for anything.
The smoking room was as beautiful as the rest of the castle. Dark wood panels on the wall, more oil paintings though these were of hunting and riding scenes. Above the fireplace a yellowed set of antlers, two crossed swords beneath them. In the fireplace an inferno was roaring, logs spitting and crackling, filling the room with heat.
A sofa and two armchairs had been set up before the fire, forming a semicircle around a black wool rug. I took the armchair, regretting it almost at once as the heat struck me like a wall when I sat down.
