Second Thyme Around (34 page)
‘Yes he can. Apparently you haven’t been a lot of use, lately. Pulling up the wrong things, cutting weeds instead of salads – you won’t have a business soon, unless you take some time out. The doctor made no bones about it.’
Perdita tried to make a joke about a doctor and bones but couldn’t think of one. ‘When did you speak to him?’
‘Last week. I rang him and told him – well, never mind what I told him just now – and he said you were cracking up. He put it more politely, of course.’
‘Well, I probably am cracking up, but I’m not happy about William hiring extra people. The business won’t stand it.’
‘It won’t stand without it. Besides, you can afford the wages.’
She sighed. ‘Not someone else assuming I’m a heiress! I’d have thought you’d know better!’
He was silent for a few moments. ‘But I do. Know better, that is. I know that you are an heiress, quite a considerable one.’
‘What? How do you know? I might not inherit anything! I might even lose the land Kitty gave me!’
He shook his head. ‘You inherited almost all Kitty’s worldly goods.’
‘Have I? But what about Roger?’
‘I don’t know about the odd individual bequest, but you get the bulk.’
This was an enormous relief. ‘That’s so amazing, and I’ve been so worried. I was sure she never changed the deeds and I’d have to sell up.’
‘She didn’t change the deeds, but it doesn’t matter.’
‘Hang on. How do you know all this?’
‘Because Kitty showed me her will. She wanted me to be an executor, but I refused.’
‘But when was this? Roger got the solicitor to visit one day when I wasn’t there. Just before we made the television programme.’
‘Really?’ Lucas took time to think this over.
‘Yes! And Roger had told me he was going to get Kitty to change her will in his favour. I didn’t think he’d done it until Beverley told me about the solicitor at the funeral.’
Lucas looked up. ‘And you’ve been carrying this anxiety around on your own?’
Perdita chewed her lip. ‘The anxiety wasn’t on its own, it had plenty of company.’
‘But why didn’t you tell me about Roger? If I had that little shit here now, I’d—’
‘Commit grievous bodily harm and get thrown in prison?’
It was his turn to look rueful. ‘Probably.’
‘Kitty told him he was common. He wouldn’t have liked that. Oh, and he was going to tell the tabloids we were
once married. I meant to warn you, but then Kitty died and I forgot all about it.’
once married. I meant to warn you, but then Kitty died and I forgot all about it.’
‘Bastard! Not that it would have mattered, really.’ Lucas leaned forward and put a large warm hand on her chilly ones. ‘And I wouldn’t worry about Kitty changing her will. She may have fiddled with it, but I’m sure she won’t have changed her mind about the bulk of it.’
Perdita, feeling better than she had for ages, chuckled. ‘Bulk might not be the right word. She bought me a van at Christmas, don’t forget, and then we had carers for ages.’
‘That won’t have even dented it.’
‘You can’t possibly know that! Even if you saw the will, you couldn’t have known what the estate was worth.’
‘She told me. As I said, she wanted me to be an executor, but I refused.’
‘But why?’
‘First, because I have so little time.’
‘And secondly?’
He rearranged his teacup, teapot and milk jug, apparently equally keen to avoid eye contact. ‘I felt bloody awkward about it.’
‘Because Kitty asked you to be an executor? She loved and respected you, Lucas. I’m not at all surprised she asked you, or that you refused, come to that. Sorting out her things would be a nightmare.’
‘That wasn’t why I felt awkward.’
‘Then why?’
He looked up at her, for the first time in ages, it seemed. ‘Can I take a rain check on answering that?’
Perdita rubbed her forehead. ‘I suppose so. Can you tell me how you’ve got time to suddenly shoot off?’
‘Would you have preferred it to be your parents? I did wonder if I should try to get in touch with them.’
‘No! But I don’t think it’s fair that you should have to let everything go hang because I need a little break. I could
have got in touch with Lucy in Shropshire, or the Ledham-Golds would have had me.’
have got in touch with Lucy in Shropshire, or the Ledham-Golds would have had me.’
‘Would you have asked either of them?’
She put off answering for as long as possible. ‘Probably not.’
He humphed. ‘I knew kidnapping was the only answer.’ Perdita persisted, ‘But it still doesn’t seem fair that you should just drop everything, to take me away …’
‘Oh God, Perdita, don’t be so dense! I love you! If you need me to take you away, of course I’ll drop everything!’
‘What?’ She felt she was watching a film and had fallen asleep, missing a vital bit of plot.
Lucas was unsympathetic. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Peri! Why are you the only person in the whole village, the whole viewing public of
A Gourmet and a Gardener,
who doesn’t know how I feel about you?’
A Gourmet and a Gardener,
who doesn’t know how I feel about you?’
She blinked at him in confusion. ‘Possibly because you never said anything about it.’
‘The others didn’t need to be told, and how could I come near you when Kitty had just died, and the whole village are assuming I’m going to muscle in on you so I can open my own restaurant?’
She took a moment to think about this. ‘No one knows if I’m going to inherit enough to open a restaurant …’
‘Except me. I know. I knew that all the rumours about your great wealth were true. God, how I wish I didn’t.’
‘Lucas …’
‘Never mind, don’t think about it now. Let’s get back on the road. You can do some more sleeping.’
Perdita, bewildered, and feeling as if an ant could push her over if it had a mind to, agreed that this was the best course. When she next woke up, Lucas was opening the gate to the track which led down to the bothy. She rubbed her eyes and shook herself awake as they passed through the woods to the loch-side. It was ten o’clock at night.
‘Welcome back.’ Lucas pulled on the handbrake and
smiled. ‘It’ll be freezing cold and possibly damp, but once I’ve got the stove going and the kettle on, we’ll be fine. You can wait in the car while I light the fire, if you like.’
smiled. ‘It’ll be freezing cold and possibly damp, but once I’ve got the stove going and the kettle on, we’ll be fine. You can wait in the car while I light the fire, if you like.’
‘No, I’ll come in.’ She was still very tired, and a totally different person from the innocent young bride she had been when he’d first brought her here, but she felt the same bubble of excitement at having arrived as she had all those years ago.
She followed him into the little wooden building. It was pitch-dark outside. He struck a match and lit a camping gas lamp.
‘Now, is there any kindling left?’ He rummaged in an old fishing creel which hung on the wall of the shack. ‘No, damn it. Never mind, I’ve a secret supply somewhere. You wait here.’
While she waited for him, she looked around, wondering how much was different from the last time she had been here. Very little, she decided. There was a patch of damp which hadn’t been there, and there seemed to be more hooks. The little two-burner camping stove looked identical, but now, she noted, there was a fridge under the table. On their honeymoon they had kept their milk outside, in a hole covered with large stones. As a system it worked well as long as they regularly bought packets of frozen peas.
Lucas came back with a box of kindling. ‘The trouble with a family property is that not all members of the family are as good at leaving the place as you’d wish to find it as others. That’s why I always leave some kindling and some whisky well hidden.’
‘Oh.’
‘So – whisky or fire first?’
‘Fire, then we can drink the whisky watching it burn.’
‘Fair enough.’
In no time the stove was crackling with flame, and
although no heat came from it as yet, it was a wonderfully welcoming sound.
although no heat came from it as yet, it was a wonderfully welcoming sound.
‘Oh.’ He regarded the two single beds which had been pushed together to make a double. ‘I’ll sort them out in a minute. It takes a bit of shifting about, but I can soon separate them. I’ll see if there’s a can of soup, or something. Or aren’t you hungry?’
‘I’m not hungry, and please don’t bother about the beds now. It’s awfully late, and you’ve been driving for hours. Let’s leave it until morning.’
He looked doubtful. ‘If you’re sure. It does make the bedding situation a bit easier, actually. I just grabbed what was handy and it turned out to be a double sleeping bag and a double duvet. Like this we can sleep on one and have the other over us. If you’d be all right with that.’
She nodded. ‘I know I’ve slept most of the way up here, but now I’ve started to sleep, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.’
‘Fine. Er – you remember about the loo situation, don’t you?’
‘Like, there isn’t one?’
He nodded. ‘You need a torch, a spade and some loo paper. Luckily the ground’s very soft. Go now, before you get comfortable and can’t face it.’ He handed her a torch and a roll of paper, slightly damp. ‘I’ll just find the spade.’
Perdita groped her way round the back of the bothy, shone the torch for stinging nettles, and found, rather to her surprise, a strange pleasure in sitting under the stars. Back in the bothy, she found that Lucas had boiled a kettle, and there was a bowl of hot water for her to wash in. He had also brought in most of the bags from the car, including a cold bag.
‘Now, whisky? Or shall I make a hot toddy?’
‘You haven’t got lemons, you can’t make a toddy.’
‘That’s what you think, Miss Know-it-all.’ He dug into his pockets and produced a lemon from each one. ‘I grabbed them just as I left the flat.’
Perdita chuckled, and realised that it was the first time she had laughed for ages, although a polite smile had been pinned to her face seemingly for ever. ‘I’ll still make do with whisky. I haven’t the energy to wait for you to faff around.’
He made a face at her. ‘Get into bed while I go to the loo, then. Your clothes, those I could find, are in that bag. I bought you a toothbrush and some toothpaste, because they weren’t in your washbag, and what do you sleep in? I could only find a T-shirt.’
‘A T-shirt is what I sleep in,’ she said. ‘Usually.’
‘It won’t be enough up here.’ He plunged his hand into a small sports bag. ‘I packed some pyjamas, you’d better wear them.’
‘What about you?’
‘I never wear them. They were a present from my sister. I’ve told her a dozen times I don’t wear pyjamas, but she still buys them. She’s trying to reform me.’ He frowned. ‘But if you’d feel more comfortable with me covered up, I’ll put them on and find something else for you.’
‘It’s all right. One pair of pyjamas between two of us is fine.’
‘You get ready for bed. I’ll be back in a moment.’
She brushed her teeth standing on the wooden veranda and spat over the rail into the undergrowth beyond. In the morning, she would wash away the toothpaste; now, it was too chilly to worry about. Back inside, she fumbled her way into the pyjamas, found a smear of face cream which, fortunately, was in her sponge bag, and got into bed. She was huddled under the duvet, shivering violently, when he returned. She was freezing cold and longed for her vest. The pyjamas were stiff and new and didn’t cling to her in a cosy way.
‘I’ll get you a hot-water bottle,’ he said, seeing her teeth chatter. He opened a cupboard. ‘It won’t take long to bring
the kettle to the boil. The fire’s going really well now and will have heated the kettle quite a lot.’
the kettle to the boil. The fire’s going really well now and will have heated the kettle quite a lot.’
Perdita remembered the routine. You kept the kettle full and on the wood-burner, and when you wanted to boil it, you put it on the gas. He filled her a hot-water bottle, and handed it to her.
‘Actually, you couldn’t wrap it in something could you?’ she asked. ‘It’s far too hot.’
He found a scarf which hung, with a lot of miscellaneous waterproofs, on some hooks by the stove. ‘Here.’
It was wonderfully soothing, but she couldn’t decide if it was her feet or her stomach which needed it more. In the end she had pushed it down to her feet and put her head on the pillow, which smelt of woodsmoke and the musty damp of summerhouse cushions. When the whisky kicked in and she was drowsy once more, she snuggled down deep under the duvet, heard him turn out the gaslight and felt him clamber into bed.
She didn’t have the energy to think about what he’d said about loving her. It was too complicated. But it was also a little golden casket, something to be taken out and dreamt over, in private.
Two single beds pushed together were not the same as a double bed. Perdita felt no awkwardness sharing it with Lucas, although she had noticed that he’d gone to bed in his boxers and a T-shirt.
It was very quiet. Only the sound of the burn and the wind in the trees broke the silence of the deep countryside. She felt relaxed, and was starting to warm up. She was nearly very happy. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, she started to cry. She was appalled. It was so embarrassing. She hadn’t cried since before Kitty died, and had no idea why she was doing it now. She tried to keep quiet. Lucas had been wonderful, looking after her so well, she didn’t want to keep him from his well-deserved sleep with her stupid tears. It wasn’t as if she was sad, or anything, she was fine. It was just that she was crying.
She managed not to sniff or sob as the tears ran wetly down her face, over her nose and into the pillow, but she couldn’t stop shaking.
In spite of there being separate mattresses, Lucas felt it. He lay still for a moment, and then he put out an arm and pulled her towards him. ‘Come on.’
He heaved her over the join so she was sharing his bed. He put his arm round her and her body remembered what her mind had long forgotten, how to lie alongside him. She laid her head on his shoulder and her arm across his chest, one leg slid between his, and, like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle, she settled comfortably into position.
‘That’s better,’ he said, whether because she had
stopped shaking, or because he liked having her in his arms she didn’t find out, because she fell asleep.
stopped shaking, or because he liked having her in his arms she didn’t find out, because she fell asleep.
She awoke some time later, boiling hot. She kicked at the hot-water bottle until it landed on the floor with a thump. She had felt she would never get warm, and now she was sweating. The pyjama bottoms had tangled themselves round her legs, tying them together. Could she sort out the situation without waking Lucas?
He was lying on his back, on the join between the two beds, snoring. It wasn’t very loud and she found the sound comforting. She eased herself from under his arm, and, trying not to disturb him, slithered out of bed and out of the pyjama bottoms. She watched him in the shaft of moonlight which came through the gap in the curtains. She remembered, on their honeymoon, in high summer, how they had cursed that gap in the curtains, which woke them so early. They had usually managed to go back to sleep again, after making love.
Now, she wondered if she should get out and get in the other side, to give them both more room, but as she cooled down she decided just to get back in.
His arm came round her, and she turned onto her right side, so it was on her waist. Another position which seemed so natural and so familiar. It was funny, she thought, as she settled herself, I couldn’t have told anyone how we used to lie together, I wouldn’t have known. But my body knows. Which is a good thing, she added prosaically, because it means we can both get some much-needed sleep.
The next time she woke his hand wasn’t on her waist, in a chaste, companionable way, it was on her breast.
‘Lucas,’ she whispered, hoping he was still asleep, and she could move without him knowing his hand had strayed.
There was no answer, but his fingers began circling her
nipple. It was difficult to believe he was really asleep. She decided to give the matter a little thought. Should she stop him, or should she do what she’d been wanting to do for ever?
nipple. It was difficult to believe he was really asleep. She decided to give the matter a little thought. Should she stop him, or should she do what she’d been wanting to do for ever?
She moved away half an inch. His hand continued its task.
‘Lucas,’ she spoke out loud. ‘Your hand. It’s on my breast.’
Still no answer, but there was no possibility of him being asleep, he was just pretending to be so he could take her past the point of no return. He knew just how to do it, he was nearly there already. Perdita sighed. Why not just go along with it? A fling wouldn’t hurt, a little Highland Fling. But she had to clear her decks while she could still think.
‘Lucas, you’re not taking advantage of a recently bereaved woman, are you?’
‘Peri, if you don’t know how much I love you by now, I don’t know what I can do to convince you.’
Again his special name for her, because, he said all those years ago, she was like a fairy. She smiled. Both his hands were working hard now, but she still had her back to him. ‘You could try telling me.’
‘I love you more than life itself. I love you more than I want sex with you. Here,’ he shuffled backwards, abandoning her breasts. ‘I’ll get up and go and swim in the loch to prove it.’
This was taking it all too far. ‘There’s no need to do that.’
He laughed. ‘No, I think I should prove to you that I just don’t just want you for your body, that I want a lifetime’s commitment.’ He moved onto his mattress, and it seemed a long way off.
‘What if
I
just want you for your body?’ demanded Perdita, beginning to enjoy herself. ‘Are you denying me a single girl’s right to a sex life?’
I
just want you for your body?’ demanded Perdita, beginning to enjoy herself. ‘Are you denying me a single girl’s right to a sex life?’
She turned to peer at him in the dim light, propping
herself up on her elbow. He made an attractive silhouette, with his hair ruffled up at the back, moonlight catching his shoulder and upper arm.
herself up on her elbow. He made an attractive silhouette, with his hair ruffled up at the back, moonlight catching his shoulder and upper arm.
‘Yes I am. I don’t think you should be a single girl with a sex life. I think you should be a married woman with one. Married to me.’
Perdita sighed. ‘Oh. Do you really think that’s a good idea, after last time?’
‘Yes I do!’
He reared up and leant over her so she collapsed backwards. She felt the warmth of him as he supported his weight on his arms.
‘Supposing I don’t agree with you?’
‘You know me. I’ll either torture you, or bully you until you submit.’ He freed a hand to start unbuttoning her pyjama jacket. ‘You’ll soon give in.’ Her chest was bare now, and he looked down longingly at where the moonlight lit her breasts.
Perdita didn’t think she could put up with much in the way of torture, if it involved being thoroughly aroused and then left unsatisfied. She felt her chances of holding out against the merest fingertip on her collarbone were nil.
‘Does it have to be marriage? Couldn’t we just have an affair?’ she countered. After all she didn’t want him to think she was desperate for him, even if she was.
‘No we can’t. We have to get married properly, preferably in church. I’m not risking losing you again.’
‘You didn’t lose me last time, you threw me away.’
‘I was such a bloody fool. Why didn’t I realise that you were the one, and always would be?’
‘Because you were young, and I was even younger, and very silly. We’ve both changed; it’s like having a relationship with a totally different person.’
‘Except that some things are wonderfully the same.’ He ran his thumb down from her collarbone to the top of her ribcage. ‘Do you still like that?’
‘Mmm.’ She nodded.
‘So, will you marry me?’
Perdita turned her head to one side. ‘Make love to me first, I’ll decide afterwards. After all, you may not be as—’
He roared and leapt on her, taking her in his arms and rolling with her so she lay on top of him. ‘If you agree to marry me,’ he said, ‘we can go into Perth and buy a double mattress.’
She gave an ecstatic sigh. ‘Oh, all right then …’
In the morning, when, sated at last, Lucas got up to rekindle the embers in the wood-burner, and make a cup of tea, Perdita sat up in bed and pulled the pyjama jacket back on.
Lucas was crouching naked on the hearth, breaking sticks and posting them into the fire. He looked very primitive, and beautiful. For the first time in many years, she wished she had a piece of charcoal and a pad, so she could draw him.
‘I think we should talk,’ he said, concentrating on his task, unaware of how the lines of his body, the movement of muscle under skin affected both the artistic and a baser side of Perdita. She looked away, so she wouldn’t be distracted.
‘If that’s all you can think of to do on a fine morning like today.’
He got up. ‘It’s raining, and although I want to get back into bed and make love just as much as you do, there are a few things I think you should know.’ He picked up his clothes and started to dress.
‘Oh.’
‘Nothing to look worried about, little one. Just some things I need to get off my chest.’
‘Can I suggest you start with that rather startling lumber jack’s shirt you’ve just put on?’
He frowned at her. ‘No. Now, stop thinking about sex
and listen to me! I want you to know everything, so you can trust me. This time.’ He hesitated. ‘I can always get undressed again.’
and listen to me! I want you to know everything, so you can trust me. This time.’ He hesitated. ‘I can always get undressed again.’
She didn’t think she’d have a problem trusting him, this time, but then she’d trusted him before. ‘Then speak.’
‘I’m going to tell you about Kitty’s money and everything in a minute, but first I want to tell you all the stuff which happened before.’
‘Before when?’
‘Before I came to Grantly Manor. It wasn’t coincidence. I knew you lived nearby.’
‘Oh?’
‘I came back to find you.’
‘That sounds very romantic.’ But she knew it wasn’t.
‘I wish I could say, now, that I came back because I knew I still loved you and wanted to claim you as my own. But it wasn’t quite like that.’
‘So, what was it like?’ He needed to tell her, but did she need to know? At the moment she felt their love was enough. But he was probably right. It was better for them to be completely open with each other.
‘I wanted to make sure I hadn’t made a mistake, leaving you. I wanted to find out that you’d turned into someone I wouldn’t want to be married to in a thousand years. But I didn’t.’ He poured water from the kettle on the wood-burner into the kettle on the gas stove, and lit it. ‘You came into my kitchen, and either I fell in love with you all over again, or I was still in love with you from before. I don’t know which it was, but it was bloody inconvenient, I can tell you.’
‘I suppose you’re going to tell me I was always “bloody inconvenient”.’
‘Well, you were – are! First of all, we meet when we’re both far too young to know how to handle a relationship. Then you crop up again, a beautiful, successful, confident,
irresistible woman, just when I’m starting to succeed in a new career.’
irresistible woman, just when I’m starting to succeed in a new career.’
‘It’s hardly my fault you chose to succeed in the village where I live! Where you knew I lived! You could have fallen in love with another – of those women.’
‘There aren’t any more of those women. There’s only you.’ He squatted down to the fridge and took out a packet of bacon. ‘And I do know it’s my fault I came back, like everything is my fault.’ He ripped open the packet with his teeth and started peeling rashers from it, laying them carefully in a frying pan.
‘Not everything,’ said Perdita. ‘Though, God knows, I blamed you for everything for years. I always thought you broke up our marriage single-handed. Then something, or someone – you or Kitty, probably – made me realise there are always two sides to a relationship.’
‘There was more to you than just a victim, even then.’
She shuddered, troubled by the ghost of failure. ‘Do you think we’ll make it, if we get married again?’
‘There’s no “if” about it! We’re getting married again, that’s definite.’
‘But supposing it doesn’t work? I don’t think I could go through that again …’
‘Without Kitty?’
She put her arms round her hunched-up knees. ‘No. Kitty has nothing to do with this. I don’t need her any longer.’ She bit her lip. ‘Oh, I
want
her, I miss her terribly, but I don’t
need
her. I know I can’t have any more of her encouragement and support, but what I’ve had – and I had years and years of it – I’ve still got. It doesn’t go away because the person who gave it to you does. I’ve come to realise that these last weeks.’
want
her, I miss her terribly, but I don’t
need
her. I know I can’t have any more of her encouragement and support, but what I’ve had – and I had years and years of it – I’ve still got. It doesn’t go away because the person who gave it to you does. I’ve come to realise that these last weeks.’
‘I’m glad. Really glad. Kitty would be so proud to hear you talk like that.’
Perdita cleared the tears from her throat and wiped her eyes.
‘And I’m glad to see you crying, allowing yourself to let go.’
She sniffed unromantically. ‘You were in the middle of a confession, Lucas.’
‘Not really a confession – more a short talk on why I think our marriage would work this time when it failed so spectacularly before.’
Perdita was smiling now. ‘Let’s have it then, but don’t burn the bacon.’
‘As if I would!’ He turned down the gas under the pan. ‘When we got married before, we were all sex and no substance. We’ve both grown up a hell of a lot, and been through a lot together. I’ve learnt so much from that, so much about you I might never have known.’
‘Like what?’
‘Fishing for compliments? Well, I guess you’re owed them. I’ve learnt that in spite of your dreamy expression, you’re enormously competent, brave, loyal, and loving.’ He stirred at the bacon. ‘Although you were those last two things before.’
‘And I’ve learnt that under your grumpy exterior, you’re extremely kind, but you don’t want people to know it. You disguise it as self-interest. You were wonderful to Kitty.’
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