The High Price of Secrets. Yvonne Lindsay
old-world charm with these touches of elegance from a bygone era. Much like back at home, at The Masters.
For just an instant she was almost overwhelmed by a wave of homesickness, by the desire to quit this search of hers and go home and pick up where she’d left off. But she couldn’t go back, not yet. Not until she’d gotten some answers. After everything that had happened, she felt so lost, as if she didn’t know who she was anymore. She needed this trip, this quest, to help her find herself again.
Tamsyn forced herself to lift her fork and spear a mushroom, bringing the morsel to her mouth. The burst of flavor on her tongue reminded her that she might be down, but she wasn’t out yet. Not when there were still things in this life to enjoy, to savor. Things that proved life went on as surely as the sun rose each day.
“Ah, excellent, you’ve helped yourself,” Penny said, walking briskly back into the room. “Is everything to your liking? Perhaps there’s something else I can get for you?”
“Everything is lovely, thank you. I’m fine for now.”
“I’m glad,” the other woman said, bustling over to clear the table where she and Finn had been sitting when Tamsyn had come into the dining room. “Finn seems quite taken with you. You can’t go wrong there. He’ll show you a wonderful time.”
Was it Tamsyn’s imagination or was there a hefty dose of double entendre seasoning Penny’s words?
“You didn’t mention you met him yesterday,” Penny probed.
“I’d been given an address to go to. It turned out to be his and not the person I was seeking.”
“Well, if anyone around here can help you find someone local it’ll be Finn,” Penny said with a warm smile. “Come and see me in my office before you head out to the shops and tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll point you in the right direction.”
What she was looking for? Well, there was an opening she couldn’t ignore. Finn himself had said they were a close-knit community. Surely her mother had to be known by someone.
“Actually, now that you mention it, I was wondering...have you ever heard of an Ellen Masters?”
Penny halted midstride and the cups she’d just cleared from the table wobbled a little in their saucers.
“Ellen Masters, you say?” She pulled her mouth down into a small frown for a second before reverting to a bright smile that didn’t feel quite as genuine as it had a moment before. “No, can’t say I’ve ever heard that name. Well, I’ll leave you to your breakfast. Remember to ring if you need anything else.”
Tamsyn watched as Penny left the dining room. She must be getting overly sensitive because for a minute there she thought she’d seen a spark of something on Penny’s face. Tamsyn took another sip of her coffee and shook her head slightly. She was probably just jet-lagged and perhaps a little overtired still. Imagining things that weren’t there simply because she wanted them to be.
Still, she refused to be cowed. Someone in the district had to know where her mother was and as soon as she crossed paths with that someone, she would know, too. A person didn’t just disappear off the grid without leaving a trace somewhere, did they?
Four
After her shopping expedition into Blenheim, where she found all the basics she needed, as well as a few things she didn’t but were fun to buy anyway, Tamsyn continued back toward her accommodations. Certain she could navigate her way without her GPS, she was surprised when a wrong turn brought her out into a small but bustling township.
She wondered briefly, as she pulled up to halt on a street peppered with cafés and boutiques and art stores, why Penny hadn’t directed her here first for her shopping. With a shrug she got out of the car and locked it before strolling the length of the main street down one side and back up the other before going into one of the clothing boutiques to browse.
“Hello, are you looking for a special outfit?” the older woman behind the counter asked with a welcoming smile.
“Not particularly, but I love this,” Tamsyn said, pulling out a sleeveless dress in vibrant hues of purple and blue for a better look.
“That would look lovely on you with your coloring. The fitting room is just to your left if you’d like to try it on.”
“Oh, I don’t think...” About to refuse, Tamsyn hesitated. Why shouldn’t she indulge herself? This morning’s shopping had been mostly about function—jeans, T-shirts, a pair of shorts and a few sets of underwear, together with some trainers. Her hand stroked the fabric, relishing the texture of the hand-painted silk. It would feel divine on. “Okay, I’ll try it,” she said before she could change her mind.
A few minutes later she turned this way and that in front of the dressing-room mirror. The dress was perfect, as if it had been made for her. If only she had the right shoes to go with it, she’d be able to wear it to lunch with Finn. Not that she was setting out to try and attract him or anything but a girl needed her armor, didn’t she? And the way this dress made her look and made her feel was armor indeed.
“How does it feel on?” a disembodied voice asked from outside the curtain.
“Fantastic but I don’t have the right shoes with me.”
“Oh, maybe we have something here. We carry a few styles and sizes. You’re what, a size seven?”
When Tamsyn murmured her assent the woman replied, “I’ll be right back.”
Tamsyn took a minute to study her reflection again. She loved the dress, loved the softness of the silk as it fell around her legs, as it caressed her body. It made her feel feminine, desirable.
Was that what her need for armor was all about? Had Trent’s betrayal left her feeling so unappealing? Questioning her femininity so much? Not surprising, given how he’d deliberately misled her throughout their relationship. The sting still smarted. And looking at her reflection now, thoughts of her former fiancé made her angry, too. Her reflection in the mirror looked beautiful and sexy—why had she let Trent make her feel any different? Why had she agreed to marry a man who never made her feel irresistible?
Tamsyn was more certain than ever that this trip was exactly what she needed. She had to get away from the perceptions and expectations everyone had of her back home and figure out who she really wanted to be. She just hoped her mother would want to be part of that—part of her life.
“Here we are!”
Tamsyn pulled aside the curtain.
“Oh, my,” the assistant said, “that dress is really you. You look wonderful. Here, try these on with it.”
She held out a pair of sandals in shades of purple, blue and pink, and with a ridiculously high heel. They were perfect, Tamsyn thought as she slid off the trainers and socks she’d been wearing and slipped her feet into the sandals, bending down to fasten the dainty ankle strap.
“Come on out into the store, we have a full-length mirror just over by the counter. You’ll have more room to twirl,” the woman said with a wink.
Tamsyn couldn’t help but smile in response. She actually felt like twirling when she saw her reflection in the larger mirror.
“I’ll take it,” she said impulsively. “The dress and the shoes. Do you mind if I wear them now?”
“Why would I mind?” The assistant smiled in response. “You’re the perfect walking advertisement for one of our local designers—Alexis Fabrini.”
“I love what she’s done with this dress, do you have more of her clothes here? I’d really like to come back when I have more time.”
The assistant just smiled and spread her arm to encompass an entire wall of garments. “Take your pick,” she said, smiling. “Let me bag up your other things and take off those price tags and you’ll be good to go.”