Country Plot (43 page)

‘No – this is the good news! – I'm going to America.'

‘For a holiday?'

‘No, to work, dimwit! He's got this business colleague who's developing holiday condos in Florida, and I'm going over there to learn the ropes. How 'bout that? Imagine me surfin', sailin', and barbecuing on the beach, babe!'

‘Sounds wonderful.'

‘Yes, and when I'm up to speed, he's going to set me up on my own. I get a salary and a share of the profits, and the chance to buy the business out in ten years and be my own man. So what do you think?'

Jenna thought that it sounded as if Roger Beale was getting his son out of the way; but if it was really a chance for him to become independent, she was glad for him. The ‘business colleague in Florida' sounded a bit suspect, but probably she was being paranoid. Anyway, it was obvious Harry was glad about it so there was no point in trying to rain on his parade.

‘It sounds like a wonderful opportunity. So you're going to make your life over there?'

‘Looks like it. I won't complain about the sunshine, anyway – though I'll miss the old country,' he added wistfully.

‘You can come back on holidays,' she said to comfort him.

‘Yeah. And – hey, you could come out! Come and have a beach holiday – all expenses paid.'

She laughed. ‘Don't start spending the money before you've earned it,' she said.

Xander finally surfaced in the middle of that week. He rang Kitty on the Wednesday evening and they talked for a long time. Then she came and found Jenna. ‘He wants to talk to you.'

Jenna found her heart beating ridiculously fast as she picked up the receiver. She hadn't so much as heard his voice for ten days.

‘Kitty tells me you're working too hard and getting pale,' he said without preamble.

‘That woman has a fertile imagination,' she said. But she knew where it came from. She had been rather quiet lately. The more she worked on the plan, the more she loved the house and the place and the people, and the less she wanted to leave them all.

‘Perhaps,' he said, ‘but she
is
my godmother and I owe her the duty of obedience. She's ordered me to take you out riding tomorrow, so I can only appeal to your kindness and not make me disappoint her.'

The thought of riding with him was bliss, but the fact that he was making a joke about it was even better, suggesting that he was coping better with the whole disaster than she could have hoped.

‘For Kitty's sake, I consent,' she said solemnly.

‘I know it isn't for mine,' he said. ‘I'll pick you up at five, if that's all right?'

He arrived, as before, in the back yard, on Victor and leading Tabitha. ‘She's rather fresh, I'm afraid,' he called out in greeting. ‘I hope you'll be able to manage her.'

‘Don't start that again,' she said, remembering their first ride. ‘Hello, baby, remember me?' She pushed a carrot chunk under Tabitha's velvet muzzle, which was enough to convince the mare she did. She took the bribe and then rubbed her face up and down Jenna's front. ‘There, you see, she likes me,' Jenna said.

‘She's just rubbing her eyes because they're itchy,' Xander said automatically.

‘God, I know that! You have to learn to recognize irony when you hear it.'

‘Sorry,' he said.

She looked up at him. He looked tired to death, his face drawn from the events of the past two weeks, but he was still shiverily gorgeous, his lean, muscular body so tempting in breeches, boots and a chambray shirt that brought out the blue of his eyes.
Not for you
, Jenna warned herself, but she couldn't help feeling a surge of pure, foolish happiness just at being with him.

‘You look tired,' she said.

His eyes met hers for a burning second and she felt a thump in the pit of her stomach. Then he looked away. ‘It's been tough,' he said offhandedly. ‘Shall we go? Check your girth before you mount.'

In deference to his tiredness, she didn't rib him for daddying her. She mounted with a bit of a struggle – Tabitha didn't want to stand still – and found her stirrups. ‘Ready,' she said.

They followed the same route as last time, along the road, on to the track, cantering as far as the first gate to settle the horses, then turning on to the track beside the open field. Here, however, Xander said, ‘The reason I called for you a bit earlier is that I thought you might like to ride as far as the Monument. Up on the hills – you remember? There's a fine view.'

‘Lovely,' Jenna said, touched he'd remembered.

In a short while they came to another gate on their left and he opened it and let her through, and then said, ‘We can have a really good gallop along here, if you're up for it. I'll go first, if you don't mind, then I can control the pace.'

‘OK,' she said, and thought,
you always want to control the pace. Maybe that's what's wrong with you
.

But he set a good one, and Victor had a long, ground-eating stride: fast though Tabitha was, she couldn't pass him, even galloping flat out. The speed was exhilarating, and as she crouched over the mare's neck and felt the air whip past her, all the tensions and anxieties of the past weeks slipped away in a wonderful release of pure physical delight. When Victor slowed at last, Tabitha made one mad effort of acceleration and caught up to him, and then Jenna pulled her back and they dropped into a trot and then a walk. Both horses were heaving and sweaty, proof they were grass-fed and unfit; and at once a cloud of tiny black flies descended on them and their riders to feast on the salt water.

‘It'll be all right once we get up to the hills,' Xander said. ‘The breeze there will blow them away.'

But that was all he did say. He didn't seem inclined to talk, and Jenna could think of nothing to say – or nothing, in reality, that she
could
say. So they rode in silence, with the hoof beats and the chorus of birds as their soundtrack. But it was companionable. She felt that he was unhappy as well as tired, but that none of it was directed towards her, and though he did not look at her, she believed he was glad she was there. It had not been
all
Kitty's idea, this ride, she concluded.

The horses had recovered by the time they reached the bottom of the hill, and climbed energetically on a loose rein up the tracks that wound back and forth across the steep slope. Xander was looking around at the view as they rode.
He's feeling better
, she thought. And he was right about the flies. The air up here felt less muggy, and a little breeze saw off the pests, giving relief to the horses. The track emerged at last on a flattish top, with the Monument small in the distance to the right. ‘Ready for another canter?' he asked.

The track was wide enough to canter side by side. Jenna eased her weight out of the saddle to rest Tabitha's back, and they settled in for a long, delicious run over the hill top. He slowed and stopped when they reached the Monument, dismounted, and came round to take Tabitha's head. ‘We'll give them a breather here, and look at the view,' he said. There was a sort of lookout point, with a stout wooden fence, presumably erected by a cautious County Council to stop visitors falling over, which made a useful tethering-rail for the horses. They loosened the girths and both horses settled down to tearing at the short downland turf.

Xander led the way past the fence to a spot where they could sit right on the edge of the scarp, and when they were settled, he said, ‘What do you think of the view?'

‘Magnificent,' she said. ‘Worth the climb.'

He pointed. ‘There's Holtby, over there; and you can just see Holtby House – that oblong roof, d'you see? And the shape of the walled gardens?'

‘Oh yes, I see it. Hi, Kitty.' She waved. ‘I don't think she saw me.' He didn't laugh, and she felt foolish. ‘Show me some more.'

‘Well, that's Burford, Chidding, Belminster, and Wenchester's just about visible through the haze, over there. And if we went round the hill in the other direction, you'd be able to see Corvington, and beyond that, the sea. It's higher than it looks, this hill.'

‘I suppose that's why the Romans had a beacon here,' she tried.

‘You remembered,' he said, and looked at her.

‘Did you think I wouldn't?' It was a daring thing for her to say, too close to personal, and he looked away. She thought he sighed. She felt he needed to talk but couldn't begin, so she said, ‘I read the notice in the paper about the engagement being cancelled. I'm sorry.'

‘It was by mutual consent,' he said woodenly.

‘I read that, too. I hoped it was true.'

‘In what sense?' He was staring out at the view.

‘I hoped that you felt it was over, not just that you knew it was.'

He didn't answer for a while. Then he said, ‘She wasn't the person I thought she was. I suppose, on reflection, I must have known that for some time. The hints were there. But I didn't want to admit it.' A long pause. ‘I've been horribly weak. I wanted it so much for her to be the right one, I let it cloud my judgement.'

‘That's a very human trait,' she said. ‘We all do that.'

He shook his head. ‘I spoke to her yesterday. There were some things I had to return – I won't bore you with the details. She insisted I bring them, rather than post them. I didn't understand why, but it seems what she wanted was to boast about how she had never loved me, and how she already has someone else.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Don't be.' He threw one quick glance at her, one flash of blue. ‘It's what she's like. She wanted to hurt me, but mostly, I think, she wanted to impress me.'

‘That's just sad,' said Jenna.

‘Yes, it is. It seems she's now hooked up with Barry Watson, the Labour peer. He's junior minister in the Department of Energy. She showed me an engagement ring.'

‘Already?' Jenna was astonished. ‘It's only a week since the notice in the paper.'

‘Roger Beale works fast,' he said.

‘You think it's his doing?'

‘Sullivan's no use to him any more, and Watson presumably has procurement influence. I wouldn't be surprised if the new power station at Corvington comes Beale Cartwright's way.' He stared resolutely outwards. ‘Beale made a point of telling me he'd made a large donation to charity – reparation for his past misdeeds, proof of his change of heart. I was almost impressed.'

‘Almost?'

‘I looked up the charity. It seems Lord Watson of Cheam is the President.'

Jenna didn't know what to say. After a bit she said tentatively, ‘Do you think Caroline – I mean, is she a victim in this? I wouldn't like to think—'

Now he looked at her properly, his expression softening. ‘You're a nice person,' he said. ‘To be concerned about her after all that's happened. But she'll be
Lady
Watson.'

‘I see.' A pause. ‘Do you mind very much?'

‘No,' he said. ‘I've let it all go. You can't change people. I shall have to keep an eye on things, to make sure they don't hurt anyone I care about, or do anything too outrageous, but for the rest – I just have to say,
never mind
.'

They sat in silence for a bit, until he roused himself with an obvious effort to say, ‘Beale told me about Harry going to the States. I'm sorry.'

‘Sorry?' she said, surprised. ‘I think it will be very good for him.'

‘Oh, but – I mean—' He seemed confused, and there was a touch of colour in his face. ‘Will you be going? Visiting? Or anything?'

‘My sister keeps inviting me,' she said, ‘but I've never been. And if I don't go for her, I'm not likely to go for Harry Beale, am I?' She hesitated. ‘We weren't a couple, you know. That's just what Caroline wanted you to believe.'

He didn't say anything, but she felt him relax, and they sat for a long time, watching the cloud shadows chase over the eternally English countryside of patchwork fields, little woods and snug stone villages.

‘Seeing all this,' he said at last, ‘always improves my perspective. This is what really matters.'

‘I know what you mean,' she said.

‘Yes,' he said, ‘I think you do.' He sounded different – not strained any more. Content.

‘How do you feel?' she dared to ask eventually.

‘Empty,' he said. It wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear, but it was a start. And he added, ‘Clean.'

The gala opening was going so well Jenna was almost afraid of tempting the gods. The weather was perfect, one of those crystal clear June days, with a blameless blue sky and just a little refreshing breeze. She had conducted several tours of the parts of the house that would be open – as had Kitty, Xander and Nicky Pearson, dividing the invitees between them into small groups. She had to admit that the rooms looked fabulous – cleaned to within an inch of their lives by Fatty, arranged with selected furniture and artefacts, and decorated with some of Kitty's top floral efforts. The drawing room was replete with links to famous people who had stayed over the ages. The dining table was set for dinner for twenty, with full Crown Derby (Peter's mother's wedding present china) silver and crystal. Lady Mary's room had been thinned out and rationalized, with almost everything in period; and in the China Room, visitors pored over Nicky's selections with fascination.

Out in the grounds everyone wandered at will, visiting the walled gardens, the woodland walk – which was very popular on such a hot day – and Centurion's grave. When Jenna was outside, she was constantly approached by people to congratulate her, ask questions about future opening, or tell her how it would affect their own business and the area. The press came, and Nick Easter MP turned up at just the right moment to get his photograph taken with Kitty. Later he made a speech – very professional – and more or less declared tea open. The subsequent stampede towards the tea tables proved Harriet's contention that people always wanted tea and cakes on a day out.