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Authors: Caidan Trubel

Tags: #Romance, #Gothic, #Fiction

Staverton (23 page)

BOOK: Staverton
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***

Caroline’s father, Lawrence, and Jake arrived at Staverton shortly before dinner. We ate in the main dining room, using the fine china and expensive crystal that had so impressed me five years ago.

A maid, I didn’t recognize, served dinner.

Lawrence greeted me politely, but then for the rest of the evening, he ignored me. Angela, clearly still angry, was a little stilted and formal in her conversation, and Michael was cool towards me.

It was all Malcolm’s fault. Why was I so easily taken in?

Thankfully Jake and Caroline appeared to be oblivious to the tension and laughed and joked their way through the meal.

Every now and then, Caroline would look at me across the table and smirk. I suffered through the three courses, praying Caroline wouldn’t mention my visit to Malcolm to anyone else.

I was so on edge, I could hardly taste the food. The wine was good, though, and Michael kept my glass topped up. He was polite, but he didn’t mention the exhibition or meeting up again. I’d missed my chance.

When the plates were cleared away, the maid brought a decanter of port to the table, but I excused myself and said I had a headache. Angela, dutifully, asked if I needed any tablets, and told me my old room was made up ready for me. I left the family in the parlour, laughing and joking, picked up my case in the entrance hall and made my way upstairs.

Chapter 34

The bedroom looked the same. And even though they were five years older, the furnishings still looked opulent, the carpet was thick and soft, and the huge four poster bed still dominated the room.

I wished I hadn’t come to Staverton again. I should have listened to Freddie. That way I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself, and although I might not have been any closer to Michael, at least I wouldn’t have had to turn down the chance to meet him at the exhibition, and maybe one day...

A movement caught my eye, and I froze before realizing I had seen my own reflection in the window. I crossed the room and drew the curtains, shutting out the dark gardens. Then I crossed back over to the door and bolted it. Silly, but it made me feel better.

I prepared for bed, still thinking about Malcolm and Gwen. When I lay back on the mattress, I tried to clear my mind of everything but that night. I wanted to remember every last detail.

I couldn’t picture Gwen’s face properly. Certain features I remembered, like her long, red hair and scarlet lips, but I couldn’t see her face as a whole.

I lay there trying to recall Gwen’s image, until a picture filled my mind: Gwen lying, bloody, on the study floor. My eyes snapped open. That wasn’t the part of the night I wanted to remember.

The altercation with Dean meant I hadn’t paid much attention to Malcolm or Gwen that night. If that hadn’t happened, perhaps I would have noticed something important, an argument between Gwen and Malcolm. A jealous comment, or put-down.

I thought back to what I had seen in the study that night, before Gwen had been murdered. The details were hazy. But I couldn’t shake the deep belief I had seen Gwen and Jake together, before Angela and Lawrence came downstairs.

They may have slipped out of the house, before Angela and Lawrence came to investigate. But why would they have done that? If Jake was gay, and they weren’t having an affair, then why did Gwen scream?

It all came down to the same conclusion. Angela was right. It must have been a dream.

I switched on the lamp beside the bed, to check my watch. Midnight. Time to go to sleep. I would leave tomorrow and let the family enjoy the rest of the weekend without me.

But sleep didn’t come easily. I heard footsteps pass my door as the others went to bed. Minutes passed. I turned the pillow over and rested my cheek against the cool side, but still I couldn’t drift off.

After another half an hour of lying there, staring up at the ceiling, I threw the duvet back, got out of bed and headed downstairs for a glass of water.

In the kitchen, I felt along the wall but couldn’t find the light switch. Moonlight poured in through the window, so I could see well enough to get myself a drink. I walked across to the sink and opened a cupboard. No glasses. I moved to open the next one, then heard footsteps.

I whirled around, hitting my shin on the cupboard door.

Michael stood in the doorway. He wore only a towel around his waist. “Are you okay?”

I gritted my teeth and shut the cupboard, which didn’t have any glasses in it anyway.

“I came down for a glass of water,” I said, trying to avoid staring at his muscular torso.

“Me too. The glasses are in there.” He pointed to a cupboard on my left.

His hair was wet and shiny from the shower, and he smelled of soap. I imagined trailing my fingers along his chest, stroking...

He’d stood very close to me and reached across to get two glasses from the cupboard. He didn’t step back after he put them on the counter.

“You look nervous,” he said.

“I’m fine.” My voice wavered.

I picked up one of the glasses, turned on the tap, filled it and passed it to Michael, staring at the glass, rather than at him.

He took the glass. “Thanks. Caroline told me what you said about Jake and Gwen.”

“Oh.” I turned back to the sink to fill my own glass, glad neither of us had turned on the lights so he couldn’t see how red my cheeks were.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. It was stupid.” I took a long drink of water.

He tilted his head, looked into my eyes and frowned. “Is there anything else bothering you?”

I turned away from him, moved back to the sink and refilled my glass. I took a sip before replying. “No. I’m fine. Can we forget I said anything?

“Maybe.” He grinned. “If you agree to come to the exhibition with me. I think you’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

I smiled back. I couldn’t help myself. “Well, all right. I suppose five years is a long time to wait.”

I wondered how he would react if I stood on tip-toes and kissed him.

He put his glass down on the kitchen counter. “It is, and I’m not known for my patience, Lucy.”

He moved closer until we were almost touching. I held my breath.

He trailed a finger along my lower lip, his eyes searching mine. He paused, and for a moment I was afraid he was going to pull away.

Then his mouth covered mine, and my hands moved up to his shoulders to pull him closer to me. I ran my hands along his back, and his skin felt hot and still damp from the shower. He smelled delicious. His hands tangled in my hair as he pressed his body to mine.

I wrapped my arms around him and felt his muscles tense beneath my fingers.

I wanted to take his hand and go upstairs, but suddenly I shivered. It didn’t feel right. Not here, at Staverton.

I pulled away, and saw the hurt and confusion in his eyes. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on mine, “What’s wrong,” he whispered.

“It doesn’t feel right,” I stammered, struggling to explain.

“It felt pretty good to me,” he said and gave me a crooked smile.

“I didn’t mean
that.
That
felt all right but...”

“Just all right?” Michael raised an eyebrow, and I grinned. I couldn’t help it.

“It was more than all right. But it doesn’t feel right here, with your parents upstairs, and everything that’s happened.”

Michael took a deep breath and let his arms he’d had wrapped around me drop to his sides.

“You’re determined to make a patient man of me, Lucy. But if you change your mind, I’m staying in the room at the end of the hall.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I went upstairs to my room and fell back on the plump pillows. My heart was still beating frantically as I grinned up at the ceiling.

The trip back to Staverton hadn’t been a complete disaster, after all.

***

I didn’t sleep well. I had strange dreams all night, one after another. In the first, I was chased through a dark wood by a wolf with glowing red eyes. In the next, I was stalked by green goblins along the cliff path. The most disturbing dream came just before dawn broke.

In my dream, I walked along the wood-panelled hall at Staverton and paused at the door to the study. It was open a fraction, so I pushed it back and looked in.

Gwen sat on the edge of the desk, her eyes half-closed and a sultry smile on her lips. Her green dress was hitched up to her waist, and her legs were wrapped around a man wearing evening dress. He had his back to the door, but I thought it was Jake. They were whispering, then the man lowered his face to her breasts.

One of Gwen’s black high-heeled shoes dropped to the floor.

The smile fell from Gwen’s face, and she screamed. Gwen clambered forward, reaching for the door to close it. And as she did so, the man turned, and I saw his face.

It wasn’t Jake.

The words filled my head as I woke up, drenched in sweat.

I lay there, my heart thudding. Everything in the dream looked as it had that night, except for one thing.

It wasn’t Jake locked in an embrace with Gwen. It was his father. It was Lawrence.

Chapter 35

The duvet was trapped underneath me and twisted around my legs. I shoved it off and got out of bed. I paused and steadied myself, reaching out for one of the bed posts. My mind was still reeling.

I opened the window, welcoming the cool air, and sat on the window seat, looking out at the sunrise.

Why did I think seeing Lawrence’s face had been a memory? I’d dreamt about goblins, for goodness sake, and I didn’t think they were real. It was only a dream. Just a dream.

I wasn’t going to mention it to anyone. I’d made a fool of myself once, and I wasn’t going to do it again. I would leave Staverton, after breakfast, take the train back to Edinburgh and things would get back to normal. And at the end of the month, I’d meet up with Michael and go to the exhibition.

I rested my forehead against the cool window. Malcolm’s face filled my mind. I saw him as he’d been the day we’d gone sailing, his plump cheeks dimpled with a smile. I could hardly believe that was the same man I’d visited in prison.

Just because I’d liked him, because he’d been nice to me, even when I threw up on his boat, and because he’d tried to warn me off Dean. All that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. Life wasn’t simple like that. And just because Lawrence ignored me, and made me feel unwelcome, it didn’t mean he was the bad guy.

I screwed up my eyes and rubbed them with the palms of my hands. I couldn’t keep the image of Malcolm, as he’d looked in the prison visiting room, forgotten, with no one to help him, out of my head.

I hoped a bath would ease the tension in my shoulders and get rid of my headache, but it hadn’t helped. At seven-thirty, I headed down to breakfast.

A little too late, I realised Lawrence was alone, sitting at the dining table. I hesitated, but he’d seen me, so it would look strange if I went back upstairs.

He looked up as I entered. “Good morning. I trust you slept well?”

They were the same words he’d used five years ago. Not exactly an unusual thing to say in the morning, though. I had to let it go.

“Good morning.” I selected two slices of toast from the rack on the serving table and carried them across to the dining table.

“There’s fresh coffee in the pot,” Lawrence said. He folded his newspaper and put it to one side.

“Thank you.”

“When are you leaving?” Lawrence asked.

I looked up and put my cup back on its saucer. It rattled. “I’m sorry?”

“You are leaving today, I take it?”

“Yes, after breakfast.”

“Good, I think that’s just as well.”

For some stupid reason I couldn’t begin to understand, tears pricked at my eyes. I blinked them back. Why did I care what this awful man thought of me?

“You’ve never liked me, have you?” I regretted the words as soon as they’d left my mouth. I sounded whiny and petulant, like a child.

“I don’t think...” Lawrence paused for a moment, with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. “I don’t think it’s a matter of liking you. But you have a habit of upsetting people.”

“Me? I haven’t.” I clenched my fists under the table. “Or if I have, I don’t mean to. But I wasn’t the one having an affair, was I? That was you. I bet that upset a few people, or does no one know?”

The look he gave me was full of malice. He leaned forward and said, “I knew it. I knew it that night. All that rubbish about sleepwalking and seeing Jake with Gwen. You were biding your time, waiting for the opportunity to try a little blackmail. Well, what is it? What do you want?”

“Want?”

He laughed a dry, humourless laugh, then narrowed his eyes. “Don’t play games with me, girl. I can be dangerous.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Look, I’ll give you what you want, but if you mention this to my wife, I swear I’ll –”

“You’ll what?” I put my napkin on the table and pushed my chair back, intending to leave.

We both heard footsteps and turned to the doorway. Caroline appeared, wearing a black, jersey wrap-dress. “Morning. Oh, Lucy, be a love and pour me some coffee, would you? My head’s thumping.”

I caught the warning look from Lawrence and struggled to keep my hands steady as I poured Caroline a cup of coffee.

Angela, Michael and Jake soon came down for breakfast. I kept my head down. I didn’t dare make eye contact with Lawrence.

I told them I would be leaving after breakfast to catch my train, and Jake offered me a lift. I accepted and rose to go and collect my bag and case from the bedroom.

“Before you go, I’d like a little word in private, Lucy,” Lawrence said, stood up and followed me out of the room.

Michael and Caroline looked up in surprise, but Angela and Jake were immersed in conversation and barely noticed.

“In here,” he said, through gritted teeth as we approached the study.

I pulled back. I didn’t want to follow him in there, but he reached out and grabbed my elbow, pulling me inside.

“Now, keep your voice down and tell me what you want.”

BOOK: Staverton
2.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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