Lord and Master (33 page)

Luna smiled faintly. She hadn't even had a chance to consider the ramifications of Florian's abrupt removal. Yes, Sören becoming the new heir presumptive was good news no matter how you looked at it. But how would he feel about the methods the Marchioness had used to achieve that end? Sören Lundgren was a highly principled man and Luna couldn't imagine him approving of the whole grubby transaction that had taken place between Lady Wellstone and his cousin.

She didn't know how she herself felt about it. She'd seen a new side of the Marchioness that morning and her initial overwhelming relief at her boss's return had transformed into…something else. She kept thinking of Cartwright, with his silences and his eyes like flat pebbles, giving nothing away. She'd marked him as an interloper from the minute she saw him, but was he really so different from her Ladyship, who had been silent on so many things?

If she was hoping for answers, Luna got none that day. Lady Wellstone returned to the office only briefly to pick up her things and head back to the hospital.

‘Walk with me,' she said to Luna. As Luna fell into step beside her down the corridor leading to the main hall, the Marchioness wasted no time getting on with her instructions. ‘I need you to set up a conference call first thing tomorrow morning with the board of trustees.'

‘Tomorrow is a Saturday,' Luna noted.

‘Tell them that this is an extraordinary meeting of the board to discuss an emergency matter and that I am personally requesting their attendance. They'll make time for it.'

‘Okay,' Luna nodded.

‘I'll be here by 8am at the latest, so any time after that is fine.'

‘And…Mr Wellstone.'

‘Will not be participating in the call, for obvious reasons. I have told Florian that I expect him to be gone from the house by the time I return. If he asks you for anything, approaches you for assistance, makes any demands whatsoever on you, you are to refuse him. Do you understand me, Luna?'

‘Yes.'

They entered the hall, where a twelve-strong restoration team was hard at work. The project manager, who was squatting on the marble floor with a few members of his team, examining a series of test spots they were trying using different solvents, immediately stood and went to greet Lady Wellstone. So Luna made her way back out onto the front portico.

The Marchioness emerged from the house a few minutes later looking, to Luna's eyes, every inch the master of Arborage she'd claimed in her confrontation with Florian. Glancing briefly at the topiary to her right, she said to Luna, ‘Ask Nigel to have a look at this. I fancy it's looking a little off colour.'

Luna nodded, silently marvelling at how her Ladyship made the mental leap from disinheriting her brother-in-law to historic preservation and garden maintenance in the space of a few minutes. And if Luna had hoped for a word or two about what had happened that morning, putting it into context and explaining the ‘things she didn't understand', the driver's presence put paid to that. Lady Wellstone was in the back seat of the Jag with Regina on her lap before she knew it, firing off a few final instructions.

‘Once you've got the call with the board scheduled, see if you can arrange meetings with Roland and the other managers. And a call with Gus.'

‘Tomorrow,' Luna said for clarity, conscious again that it was the weekend.

‘Yes, tomorrow,' Lady Wellstone replied, a note of impatience in her voice. ‘I'll want a meeting with David Martin as well, but that can wait.'

Luna was walking back into the office when her mobile rang. Stefan, thank God. Quickly entering the Marchioness's office, she shut the door behind her and wilted against it.

‘Hi,' she said, and even to her own ears her voice sounded shaky.

‘
Flicka
? What's wrong?'

‘It's been…quite a morning here,' she replied.

‘Yes, so I understand.'

‘You've heard?'

‘About Florian? Yes. My father just forwarded me Caitlin's draft press release.'

Legs feeling suddenly like jelly, Luna went to sit on the settee. ‘Oh, Stefan, there's so much more to it than what's in that press release. The Marchioness…' she trailed off. How, even, to begin?
The Marchioness has just successfully blackmailed her own brother-in-law, an act she has clearly been planning for months. The woman I thought I understood backwards and forwards has kept this a secret from me, and now I'm afraid I don't know her at all. Her, and what she is capable of.

Stefan interrupted her thoughts. ‘Look, Luna, I'm flying back tonight. I'll be at the Dower House by eight. Come over and you and I can talk this through.'

‘I feel like I can't see the woods for the trees right now,' Luna said, closing her eyes. ‘Your father—'

‘Is flying in first thing in the morning.'

‘Right.'

‘I promise you,
flicka
, everything is going to be fine. I love you.'

‘I love you too.'

Maybe that could be her new mantra, she thought with a strangled laugh.
Stefan loves me. And Sören will be the new Marquess.

Unusually, Stefan texted her from the airport in the mid-afternoon:
Boarding plane now. Will phone from Heathrow. Love you.

Luna was heartened, by it and by him. Perhaps Caitlin was right; what she needed to do was focus on the outcome of today's events. Luna briefly allowed herself the luxury of contemplating a future where the Marquess's death didn't necessarily mean an abrupt end to her life at Arborage. Where the Marchioness retained a role in the running of the estate, but saw her power diminish, which, after today, didn't seem like such a bad thing. And where Luna herself might be in the rather unusual situation of dating the boss's son.

She smiled involuntarily at this, sitting at her desk as the last of the sun's rays crept across the carpet in the Marchioness's office. Calculating that she had a good hour before darkness fell, she decided to go for a run to clear her head.

It had been weeks since Luna had managed to do a run in the light of day and she resolved to try and get as far as she could, running down the main drive to the gatehouse, where she raised her hand briefly to their head of security, still working away in his office. From there she continued along the perimeter path to the farm shop, heading back into the estate past the stables. She saw Helen standing in the manège there, intently watching a horse go through its paces, and carried along on the horse track leading into the woods.

It had gone cold again and the forest seemed particularly bleak in the twilight, with only the sound of her steady panting for company. Luna jumped over a knotted tree root in the path and thought of the time she'd come this way with Stefan, him placing his hand under her elbow. She heard a sudden rustling in the undergrowth next to the path and jumped in surprise as a fox burst out in front of her. The fox froze momentarily and she slowed to a stop – it looked a little mangy to her, like it had been a hard winter. After a few seconds, it sprinted off and she placed her hand on her chest, smiling at the fright it had given her.

She was just gearing up to start running again when she saw him, standing next to a tree not a hundred feet away. Paul Walker, dressed as ever in his wax jacket and flat cap, his rifle in his hands. Watching her. In all the drama of the past twenty-four hours, she'd completely forgotten about him; perhaps Florian had told him he could have his job back, or perhaps he had nowhere to go – another loose end the Marchioness would have to tidy up.

Walker began to walk towards her and Luna briefly considered standing her ground. It was him who was trespassing here. But he was carrying a gun, unsmiling, and as he drew closer the courage of her convictions deserted her. She thought of the mobile in her pocket, remembered there was no reception out here, and turned and started to run.

She sprinted down the hill roughly in the direction of the house, pulling her mobile from her pocket as she ran and confirming that she had no reception. Looking behind her, she saw no sign of Walker following, but she kept running till she could see the ornamental lake through the trees. She checked her phone again – still no bloody reception – and carried on to the lake where she finally got one bar on her mobile.

Ten minutes later she, the head of security and two of his men were standing in the formal garden, trying to decide what to do.

‘We should have made sure he got off the grounds yesterday,' the head of security was saying. ‘It's going to be hard to find him, now it's dark. He knows these woods better than anyone and if he's a mind to hide…'

‘So, you launch a search tomorrow morning?' Luna asked.

‘Yeah,' he said reluctantly. ‘But in the meantime we lock the entire house down, and no one goes outside unescorted.'

So Luna herself was escorted back to the house as the security team churned into action for the second time that day. Climbing the stairs to her room, she wondered if today could possibly get any more strange.

She'd just gotten out of the shower when Stefan rang from Heathrow.

‘You aren't going to believe this,' she said, briefly explaining the situation with Walker. ‘Honestly, I think I just panicked,' she concluded. ‘I can't imagine him hurting anyone, and I'm sure I'm fine to come down to the Dower House.'

‘Absolutely not. You're to do exactly what security tells you until I get there,' Stefan replied. He was all for her locking herself into her sitting room, which Luna argued was a wild overreaction. They compromised in the end; she would get dressed and go down to the staff kitchen to wait for him, where at least there'd be a few night staff around.

She was still smiling at his final words – something to the effect that for once he expected her to do as she was told – as she walked down her stairs to fetch her tablet from the office. It had just gone 8pm but felt later. From her office window she could see the headlights of estate vehicles moving up and down the drive in the distance, the security team hard at work.

Switching on her desk side lamp, Luna located her tablet and was rifling through her desk drawer for the charger when a sheet of paper next to her laptop lifted slightly and rustled across the surface of the desk. A cold breeze whispered along her neck and she looked towards the Marchioness's office, where the door was slightly ajar. The breeze was coming from there.

She went to the door and pushed it forward, immediately seeing that the sash window next to the settee was open. Shaking her head, she walked over and knelt atop the settee, reaching towards the window frame. It was then that she perceived a presence behind her. Whirling around in the darkness, she could just make out the shape hunched behind the Marchioness's desk.

‘Little ice princessss,' came Florian's voice.

Blood rushing in her ears, Luna stammered, ‘You—you're not supposed to be here.'

‘Am I not,' he replied. Not a question. ‘And who the fuck are you to tell me where I can and cannot go.' Florian rose to his feet and from where she stood, even in the darkness, his eyes appeared wild, crazed. Luna looked at him, then at the open door. They moved simultaneously, her diving towards the door and him coming around the desk faster than she thought it was possible for him to move. He managed to get a hand on her, but she shook free and ran past her desk and out into the hall, despairing at the sight of her mobile sitting on her chair where she'd left it.

Trying desperately to think of the fastest route to someone else, anyone else, in the almost deserted house, Luna raced towards the main hallway, Florian close behind her. She had to slow to negotiate her way through the scaffolding that blocked the doorway and it was here that he caught her, grabbing her arm in a vice-like grip.

‘You've been in on Augusta's little scheme sssince the beginning, haven't you?' he accused, pulling her so close to him that she could feel his spittle on her face.

‘No,' she protested, twisting her arm away from him and backing into the hallway. She made another break towards the front doors, realising too late that they'd been locked by security. There was no escaping Florian this time. He came at her in a rush, lifting his hand and bringing it down against her face like a hammer. She stumbled slightly, ears ringing, and he struck her again – this time she tasted blood.

‘You fucking cunt,' he raged, raising his hand again.

With nowhere else to go, Luna spun around and ran towards the staircase but only made it up four steps before his hands grabbed her ankles, bringing her down. She began to fight, scratching and kicking as he climbed on top of her and delivered another stinging blow to her temple. She felt his hand reaching between her legs and realised with horror that he intended to rape her. She quickly lifted a hand up to gouge him in the eye and he reared backwards, howling in agony. Luna too was screaming by this point, praying that someone would hear her. She tried to roll away from him, but he fell upon her again, holding her arms down and pressing his sweaty face against hers.

‘God, I'm going to enjoy this,' he said, raising his hands to her neck. Terrified now, Luna tried to prise his hands away, but he only gripped her more tightly. She felt herself starting to black out…

And then suddenly Florian was off of her, being pulled back. Luna heard the sound of herself coughing and then of air wheezing into her throat. She looked up to see Paul Walker holding Florian by the lapels, shaking him.

‘Enough, Fox! Enough!' he was shouting.

There was a commotion outside on the front portico and she heard Stefan shouting her name. Florian began mounting the stairs two at a time just as the front door opened and Stefan and the head of security ran in. Stefan immediately moved to grab Walker, but Luna croaked, ‘No, it wasn't him. He saved me.' She waved her hand at Florian's departing figure and Stefan and the head of security were off up the stairs like a shot.

Watching them go, Walker looked down at Luna and said, ‘We're square now, you and me,' and walked down into the hall, out onto the portico and into the darkness.

Stefan and the head of security tracked Florian down to the library, scene of the previous night's debauchery. By the time the rest of the security detail showed up, Florian's face had been reduced to a bloody pulp – the head of security had had to pull Stefan off him before he killed him.

Less than an hour later the Marchioness arrived at the house, Luna having insisted that she be called. She took one look at her shaking and battered PA and asked Stefan, ‘Where is Florian?'

‘He's in the conference room, with two guards watching him. We need to call the police, Augusta.' The head of security nodded, looking at Luna. Whose eyes were fixed on her boss.

‘Is that what you want, Luna?' the Marchioness asked. ‘To involve the police?'

Luna was silent. Stefan crouched down to where she was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, placing his hand on her knee. His eyes searched her face, following her line of sight to the Marchioness.

‘No,' Luna said finally.

‘
Luna
,' Stefan said, but Lady Wellstone was nodding in agreement.

‘Get that man out of this house and off this property,' she said to the head of security, never taking her eyes off Luna. Then she sat down on the stairs next to her, taking her hand in both of hers. ‘Do you need a doctor?' she asked gently, to which Luna shook her head. Stefan, meanwhile, stood at the base of the stairs looking between the two women uncomprehendingly.

After Florian had been removed, the Marchioness went to speak with the head of security, standing outside with him on the portico. Luna stood then, half in a daze, and began moving towards the portico herself, until Stefan put his arm around her.

‘Come away, Luna,' he said, and led her up the main stairs and across the landing to her own small staircase. He took her to the bathroom and washed the blood away from her nose, taking her face in his hands and turning it this way and that.

‘Florian knows how to hit a woman,' he observed, his voice low and dark. ‘I think there won't be too much bruising.'

Luna nodded mutely.

‘Why did he attack you?'

‘I don't know,' she responded, honestly enough.

He led her back to her room and made her sit down on the sofa, going to fetch a quilt off her bed and wrapping it around her shoulders.

‘Stay here,' he instructed, walking out of the room. He returned ten minutes later carrying a decanter of brandy and a glass. Placing the glass in her hand, he poured a generous measure and waited while Luna took a sip.

‘I have just asked Augusta the same thing I asked you and she claims not to know either,' he said, sitting down next to her. ‘I want you to tell me what has been going on here, Luna.'

So she told him. She told him everything. About her secret meeting with the Marchioness at the hospital in early January, about her instructions to keep Florian happy at all costs. About the ensuing weeks of ever greater humiliation, culminating in their visit to Scotland. She told him how Florian had portrayed her to Viktor as his concubine and how she had allowed him to do so. She recounted the previous day and night's events, including the orgy she'd witnessed in the library. And finally she told him about the Marchioness's blackmail of Florian.

It got to the point where she could hardly stop talking, the words tumbling out of her mouth between gulps of brandy. And Stefan listened in silence, his lips tightening occasionally, a vein pulsing in his temple as Luna described Florian's offer of continued employment under his tutelage.

‘Why didn't you come to me with this?' he asked eventually, fury etched across his face. ‘Why didn't you ask for help?'

‘I—,' she hesitated. ‘You weren't here, and I guess I thought I could cope. I
did
cope, till the very end.'

‘The very end when that man physically attacked you,' Stefan said, shaking his head.

‘Are you blaming
me
for that?' she protested, voice rising querulously.

Stefan visibly struggled with his emotions. ‘No,' he said. ‘Of course I'm not. I'm sorry,
flicka
. It's not you I'm angry with.'

He helped her into bed soon after that, sitting beside her and stroking her hair.

‘I have to go and talk to Augusta,' he said, bending down to kiss her forehead. ‘I will come back later. You sleep.'

She thought she wouldn't be able to sleep, but she was wrong. Having at last unburdened herself to him, the weight Luna had been unconsciously bearing for the past month lifted from her shoulders. Perhaps he could make some sense of this mess, and right the Marchioness's moral compass; perhaps Stefan would fix everything.

She woke only briefly when he climbed into bed with her two hours later, pulling her into his arms. ‘
Flicka
,' she heard him say before she succumbed to sleep again.

She woke the next morning to find a note from Stefan on the pillow next to her reading simply, ‘Stay here. I will come for you.' Remembering the emergency conference call with the board, Luna quickly got dressed in a tunic, woolly tights and boots.

As Stefan had predicted, her face, when she studied it in her bathroom mirror, bore little evidence of the previous night's attack. A slight swelling in her right cheek was all she could see. And when she quickly pulled her hair up into a sloppy bun and applied a light coat of foundation, it was hardly visible at all. Like last night had never happened.

She practically ran down to the office, but found the conference room door already shut when she arrived. She could just hear the Marchioness's voice and assumed the call had already started – no matter, Luna thought, she could go to her desk and quietly dial in from there. She didn't want to miss this, the beginning of what she hoped might be a new dawn for Arborage.