Country Affairs. Zara Stoneley
strangely vulnerable, Alexa had enchanted all, and Billy had feared what her future as Lady of the Manor would have done to her. But Lottie, with her father’s stubborn, down-to-earth streak was different. Billy knew that his daughter could do this, and as each day passed he’d seen the growing certainty in her. The confidence. And he saw the same love for the place shine from her eyes as it had from her mother’s. There was no doubt in his mind that his scatty daughter was the true heir of Tipping House and that the Stanthorpe determination ran deep in her veins. He could also see the same glint of determination as she looked at the man standing in front of her.
Lottie glared at Todd, who she hadn’t seen since he’d been marched off a Barcelona beach and out of her life. It might not have actually been that long ago, but it seemed to have happened in a different lifetime now. Like some crazy adventure that had happened to somebody else, before she’d realised what really mattered to her. This place and these people, not some footloose and fancy-free Australian, who just wanted to share a beer and a laugh.
She shot a warning glance at Elizabeth, her grandmother, which she knew wouldn’t help at all, tried not to let Billy catch her eye as she just knew that was asking for trouble, then glanced anxiously over at Rory.
It looked like a massive penny had just dropped with a horrendous clang. He frowned, his hands tightening into fists at his sides and took a step forward.
It was just at this moment that a panting Tabatha arrived, slightly pink in the face, and made a grab for her horse just as he made his way into the marquee.
When her ex-model father Tom Strachan had made the decision to retire to the countryside, dragging his reluctant teenage daughter with him, Tab had been distraught. He had ruined her life.
Despite the fact that she was going through a goth phase, she’d envisaged a future of bright city lights, nightclubs and fashion ahead. Not a life of being stuck in the sticks to stagnate with old farmers and smelly sheep.
Discovering that several of her equestrian heroes lived on the doorstep had slightly mollified Tab, and being allowed to groom for Billy (who had superstar status, but let’s face it, was a bit over the hill) and Rory (who was the sexiest eventer on the planet, but still insisted on hanging out with the far from glamorous Lottie, unfortunately) had almost been enough to make her break out of her teenage sulk. She’d grudgingly (but not openly) admitted that Tippermere might be an okay type of place.
But when the amazingly attractive and very out of place stranger had arrived on the yard at Folly Lake Equestrian Centre an hour earlier, just as she was untacking Merlin, she decided there might be a God after all. He was gorgeous, he was fit, fun and with an accent to die for.
So when he’d vaulted on to the horse’s back, asked for directions to the wedding and set off across the field towards the manor, she was too busy staring to tell him that Merlin bareback might be a death wish. But he probably wouldn’t have cared. He was amazing. She was awestruck. She was finally going to get a shag.
Tab, who now had a firm grip on her horse, edged back closer to the proceedings, sensing that Todd’s no doubt dramatic entrance was only the start. Merlin, less entranced, tugged, nearly pulling her arm out of its socket. ‘Okay, okay.’ She passed him one of the mints she kept in her pocket for emergencies. No way was she going yet – things looked far too interesting here.
A red-faced Lottie was staring at Todd as if she knew the blond sex god intimately. Which was bloody typical, thought Tab, and would normally have annoyed her more, except she couldn’t see how she could lose. Lottie had Rory, which left Todd free for her (and she could still feel the smacker of a kiss he’d given her before leaping onto Merlin – which had to mean something). But if it turned out that there really had been something going on between Lottie and Todd, then surely Rory would be keen to take advantage of her shoulder to cry on?
She helped herself to one of the mints and passed another one on to Merlin, who was nudging her shoulder impatiently.
‘Well, if it isn’t Todd the tosser himself.’ Tab grimaced, it sounded as though Pip (who’d emerged from the wedding crowd with folded arms) knew him as well.
Tab stared at the immaculately turned-out journalist with her perfect blond bob. The older girl oozed a kind of professional polish and city know-how, and Tab still hadn’t quite decided if she admired her, envied her or liked her. She’d hated Pip at the start. The way she’d zoomed in on her father, Tom, then had bedded him had been so predictable, so bloody boring. But then they’d actually become kind of buddies when she’d shown her the ropes at Rory’s yard. And now it turned out even she knew the Australian sex god. Although that figured; Pip knew everybody and everything. And had tried them out between the sheets probably – the ‘everybody’ not the ‘everything’.
Great, Tab frowned, somebody interesting turns up and she was the only one who hadn’t slept with him. Which was the story of her life at the moment. One day they’d stop treating her as Tom’s kid and realise she actually wanted to ride more than bloody horses.
‘Todd.’ Rory’s voice broke into her thoughts, and from the sound of it he didn’t actually know him, it was more a statement of intent, possibly murderous, which could make things interesting but could completely screw up her plans. On no account was Rory going to be allowed to kill him, or hound him out of Tippermere. Not yet, please God! Tab, who had resolutely refused to even pretend to pray since the day she’d been born, decided that if this worked out she would make up for it.
‘Watcha mate.’ Todd, oblivious to the danger, grinned in Rory’s direction and was obviously impressed with the mark he’d left on his audience. He winked at Pip. ‘Long time no see. Didn’t recognise you with your clothes on.’
‘Don’t you “watcha mate” me,’ Rory was probably the only one who missed the murmur that was spreading through the crowd. ‘You’re the waste of space that dumped Lottie on that Spanish beach, aren’t you? Well?’
Lottie squirmed as the heat rushed into her face.
‘Well, to be fair, I wouldn’t exactly say “dumped”, mate.’ Some of the bravado left his voice as he registered the look on Rory’s face. ‘It was just one of those things.’
‘I’ll show you what’s fair, come here, you Aussie git.’
As Rory lunged, Todd decided not to come or hang about. He made a dash for it, straight towards the by-now bored Merlin, who had a half-eaten red gladioli hanging from his mouth. Making a split-second decision that he was sure he’d regret later, Todd vaulted on to the startled horses back before he, or Tab, had time to object.
Rory glanced around, his face set, spotted the quad bike at the side of the marquee and made a dash for it.
‘Jeez, fella, what is your problem?’ Not waiting for an answer, Todd dug his heels in and grabbed a handful of mane as Merlin plunged forwards. The horse rocketed back across the lawn, happily obliging his rider, with Rory in hot pursuit, waving a fist and yelling what everybody took to be obscenities.
‘Think they’ll be back?’ Pip grinned, this was turning out to be far more entertaining than she could have possibly imagined. And bringing a photographer along with her had definitely been a worthwhile investment. She could picture the newspaper headlines now.
Lottie Brinkley shut her eyes and a new image of Todd swam into her vision. Todd the last time she’d seen him – his bronzed body naked apart from a pair of swimming trunks, his impressive six-pack nicely oiled and the promise of a good night in shining from his eyes.
Until the dream had been demolished by a bevy of Spanish policeman all dressed in black, who’d surrounded them and waved a warrant.
Apart from the humiliation of having to watch her lover being marched across the sand away from her, what had really bothered Lottie on the beach that day was that she hadn’t even been