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Authors: Katie Fforde

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BOOK: Highland Fling
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‘Surely,’ went on Felicity, ‘if he only wanted to sleep with her, he would never have left home. He could have just had her whenever he wanted her.’

Lady Dalmain frowned. ‘Don’t be vulgar, dear.’ It was obviously one thing for her to talk frankly about sex, but another for her daughter. ‘No, I think with him it was a protest. He’s been under such a lot of pressure with the business lately. Ifs perfectly natural for him to wish to turn his back on everything for a while. Now Ross Grant-Dempsey is in charge, I’m sure things will be a lot easier.’

Jenny sighed. If only that were true.

Chapter Seventeen

By the time Henry finally put Felicity and Jenny onto the sleeper at Fort William, bound for London, they had five days before Ross Grant-Dempsey was due to return to the mill. It was also freezing cold.

They had with them a case full of samples of fine suiting, a dress bag with Rowan’s most beautiful example of a dress made of nuno felt, their own clothes, and a shawl, designed by Felicity, that only extreme strong mindedness prevented Jenny from wearing. They also had a list of useful addresses. Some of the addresses Jenny had researched through the Internet; one was of Felicity’s old school friend, and one, a very upmarket tailor in Savile Row, had been provided by Meggie, on a rare visit to her mother-in-law.

They had withdrawn to Jenny’s bedroom so Meggie could feed the baby. Jenny had followed her to make sure she had everything she needed, and Felicity had gone with them because she hadn’t wanted to stay and hear her mother and Henry discussing the pedigree of some ancient family he was working on to sell their estate, even though Meggie had told her she definitely couldn’t smoke near the baby.

‘We met at college when we were both doing textiles,’ Meggie had explained, fussing with Anna in
an uncharacteristic way. ‘If he says he doesn’t remember me,’ she glanced up and then down again, ‘tell him that we slept together behind the sofa at Heggie Johnstone’s twenty-first. But if he does remember me,’ she went on hurriedly, ‘don’t say anything about that. Bit of an old flame,’ she added, in case they hadn’t got this point.

When Meggie had gone home, and she and Jenny were washing up the tea cups, Felicity had said, ‘Well, I suppose if you’re going to sleep around at college, it might as well be with someone useful.’

‘Or, even if you only sleep with one person,’ said Jenny, ‘it’s good if it’s someone useful.’

The two women regarded each other. Felicity and Meggie might respect each other, like each other, but they’d always have their differences.

Felicity had had quite a lot of contact with her old school friend and they were assured of lunch, if nothing else, from her.

‘She sounds just the same,’ said Felicity. ‘I can’t wait to see her. She went to a school reunion recently, and she’s going to tell me all about it.’

‘As long as you impress on her what a good idea it would be for her to use our exclusive products,’ said Jenny, wondering if there was a moral difference between sleeping with the right people at college, or having the right friends at school. None of her own old flames or friends had yet turned out to be remotely useful.

They were going to spend two nights with Jenny’s mother. Jenny had been looking forward to it like a child looks forward to Christmas.

*

‘Now you do know which cup and saucer she likes for morning tea, and which ones for afternoon tea?’ said Felicity to Henry, as he stowed the luggage on the train.

‘Large in the morning, small in the afternoon, though she knows I’m not always in at teatime. Now, have you girls got everything?’

‘It’s too late now if we haven’t,’ said Jenny, ignoring his patronising tone.

‘I’ll get off then,’ said Henry. ‘It’s a long drive back.’

‘We do appreciate you bringing us, really we do,’ said Felicity. ‘I don’t know how we’d have got here without you.’

‘To be fair, Iain did offer,’ said Jenny.

‘Even if you want to travel all this way in the back of a van, I don’t,’ said Felicity firmly. ‘Thank you, Henry.’

As Henry kissed both women goodbye, it occurred to Jenny, although she admitted it might be wishful thinking, that he kissed Felicity just as warmly as he kissed her. Perhaps there was another reason for his continued presence in the Highlands.

Once settled in their sleeper, the women lay on their bunks and Felicity passed Jenny, on top, a small pewter cup of brandy from the flask pressed on her by Lady Dalmain.

‘I prefer whisky myself,’ she said, ‘but Mama always travels with a flask. Not that she does travel very often.’

Remembering that Felicity didn’t either, Jenny said, ‘I’m so proud of you, Fliss. It can’t be easy for you to contemplate such a long journey, in such a confined
space. It’s going to be really difficult to smoke too,’ she added, making it clear that no way was she going to do it in their sleeping compartment.

Felicity didn’t answer immediately, and although Jenny couldn’t see her doing it, she knew that now she was inspecting the small Victorian ring that had recently come to grace the fourth finger of her left hand; she’d done it every ten seconds since Lachlan had put it on, in spite of Lady Dalmain’s sniffy remarks about garnets being only semi-precious. ‘Knowing Lachlan loves me makes everything possible.’ Then she added, ‘Besides, I’ve got to get my wedding dress sorted out. And I’ve got nicotine patches on. And some chewing gum.’

Jenny sank back as the brandy began to take effect. Yes, being in love with someone who was also in love with you would help, instead of a complete – She stopped the thought. It would only bring her sorrow and frustration.

As a distraction, she turned her thoughts to Philip. Would being in love make him willing to give up the buildings if it would save the mill? Or didn’t he care? Would feeling he wasn’t totally responsible, that other people were helping him, make him behave responsibly? Morally?

‘Do you think Philip will bring Gloria to that dinner party?’

‘I should think so. If I were him, I’d introduce her to the family when there were as many people as possible around, so Mama can’t interrogate her.’

‘But her boys? I mean, I’ve seen them. I’m sure they’re nice lads and all that’ – Jenny wasn’t sure, actually, but said it anyway – ‘but how are they going
to cope with a formal dinner party? They may have never eaten at a table in their lives.’

‘We’ll just have to help them out with the knife and fork thing,’ said Felicity, not much interested. ‘It was nice of Mama to say it could be like an engagement party, for Lachlan and me, wasn’t it?’

‘It certainly was. Unprecedented, even.’

There was a pause. ‘The trouble is, I know she’ll turn it into an engagement party for Philip and Gloria, when the time comes.’

‘Unless she hates Gloria, that is.’

Felicity sighed. ‘She won’t dare hate Gloria, because she knows if she does, she’ll lose Philip again. I bet we find she says she’s “got character” or something.’

‘To be fair, she was fine when you told her about being engaged to Lachlan.’

‘I expect now she accepts I’m never going to marry into the aristocracy, and might as well settle for an artisan. She may kick up a fuss when she realises I really am going to leave home, which will mean there’s no one to tend to her every need.’ Felicity suddenly giggled. ‘I’ve just had a thought. Do you think she’ll expect Philip and Gloria to move into Dalmain House so they can look after her for the rest of her life?’

Jenny shuddered. ‘Poor Gloria! I haven’t met her, but I’m sure she doesn’t deserve that.’

‘No. But I’ve had it for years and years, and I didn’t deserve it either.’

‘True.’

‘If only I hadn’t been ill, and could have stood up for myself. Lachlan and I would have had ages together by now, children, possibly.’

Jenny never felt there was much point in looking
back at what might have been. ‘You might have got bored with each other and be divorced by now.’

Felicity was shocked. ‘it’s not like you to be cynical, Jenny.’

‘Isn’t it?’

As the train got into Euston early, they decided to go straight to Jenny’s mother, rather than drag all their possessions round London with them. ‘We’ve still got all the samples,’ said Jenny as they piled onto the train to Guildford, having crossed London by taxi. ‘That’s quite enough luggage in my opinion. How are you doing?’

‘Surprisingly well,’ said Felicity, who looked crumpled from her night in the train, but happy. ‘Talking to Lachlan helped.’ She rubbed the ear that apparently had gone numb from being pressed against a mobile phone for so long.

Jenny was beginning to think that her pre-conceived notions about Highlanders being taciturn and of few words were quite wrong. Felicity’s phone had rung the moment they got off the train, and they had been talking more or less ever since. It was a relief when they finally lost the signal.

‘We’ll take a taxi from the station to my mother’s house. Then we’ll both have baths, and then breakfast. It’ll be bliss. I’ve missed my mother so much.’

It was Felicity’s turn to feel wistful. ‘I suppose if I’d ever been away from her, I might have had a chance to miss mine.’

‘Darling!’ Jenny and her mother hugged each other so hard their ribs were at risk. ‘It’s so lovely to see you! You look – you look – a bit tired.’

‘Do I? It’s probably just train-lag. I’m all right really. Mum, this is Felicity.’

Felicity was also hugged. ‘It’s lovely to meet you,’ said Jenny’s mother. ‘I’ve heard such a lot about you, about your lovely designs. You’ve got one with you? Lovely! And you’re coming down to sort out your wedding dress? You must show me what you’re having the minute you’ve had a bath and something to eat. You go in my bathroom, Jenny, as it’s a bit of a mess. But I’ve cleaned the family one just for you, Felicity.’

‘It’s terribly kind of you, Mrs – Porter.’

‘Goodness, you must call me Fay. Now come along, let me show you the bath oil I’ve put out for you. I do like to have something nice to have in my bath, don’t you? Especially as you’ve been on a train all night …’

Felicity’s friend’s shop in Covent Garden was tiny, but Jenny wanted to put on everything in it, immediately. Gelda, owner and creator of it all, embraced Felicity enthusiastically. It occurred to Jenny that Felicity had probably been hugged more in the last few hours than in all the years since her father had died. Lady Dalmain reserved her physical affection for men.

‘You must meet Jenny.’ Felicity drew her forward. ‘it’s because of her I’m here. I’m agoraphobic and I could never have got here on my own.’

While Jenny shook the outstretched hand, she studied the small, eccentrically dressed woman before her. She wasn’t, and probably never had been pretty, but she had such style and energy, she was hugely attractive.

‘I love everything you’ve got in here,’ said Jenny. ‘I hope it’s a good omen.’

‘An omen for what?’ asked Gelda.

Jenny glanced at Felicity, who shrugged slightly. Jenny had been under the impression that Felicity had told Gelda about Dalmain Mills and their hopes for Gelda’s contribution to its survival. Obviously she had been wrong. Possibly she’d felt shy about showing something she’d designed to her old school friend.

Jenny took a breath, hoping the right words would come to her. They didn’t.

‘Listen,’ said Gelda. ‘Why don’t you two come into the back and I’ll put the kettle on? You can fill me in on the last thirty years, Fliss. And you can show me what you’ve got in that dress bag.’

‘There’s something in the case you should see too,’ said Jenny, but Gelda was out of earshot.

Felicity and Jenny sat drinking ‘Women’s Tea’, a black, peppery brew which they both enjoyed more than they’d expected to. Gelda was in the shop, laughing and talking animatedly to someone. Felicity, overcome by curiosity, tiptoed to the door and peered out.

‘Oh my God!’ she whispered. ‘It’s – you know – that model. The one who –’

Jenny joined her at the crack in the door. ‘God! Yes! So it is! Wow!’

They were both sitting down demurely when Gelda came back in.

‘Was that really – you know?’ Felicity searched for a name.

‘Daffy? Yeah. She often comes in. She’s a mate. She says she’ll model for me if ever I do a catwalk show.’

‘Would you do that ever, do you think?’ asked Jenny.

Gelda shrugged. ‘To be honest I’ve got enough work without any of that stuff. I’m just not big enough at the moment. So, what’s in the bag? And why have you come to see me?’

‘To talk about my wedding dress,’ said Felicity quickly.

‘And to see if you’d be interested in being an outlet for Dalmain’s Designer Fabrics,’ said Jenny, hearing the name of the product for the first time as she made it up. ‘This is one of them, or it will be. What do you think?’ She pulled off the garment bag and gave the dress a shake, hoping it had survived its night on a train.

Fortunately, it had. Gelda didn’t comment immediately. She looked sideways at it, fingered the fabric, and took hold of her lip with her teeth. ‘Mm. Not sure about the design. There’s quite a lot of that sort of stuff about. But I love the fabric. What is it?’

‘Nuno felt,’ said Jenny and went into her well-rehearsed spiel about how it was made, what it was made from, and what other uses it had.

BOOK: Highland Fling
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