A Summer of Secrets

by Lorna Peel

  “Hello, Gavin. You remember Thomas, don’t you?”

  “Lord Heaton.”

  “Thomas, please.”

  “Thomas, then. I went to see your dad the other day,” Gavin turned back to her. “He’s looking well.”

  “Yes. He’s looking into possibly getting a grant or something to try and open the mining museum again.”

  “A grant?” Gavin echoed.

  “Thomas mentioned it.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, let’s hope he can get one, then. Nice one, Thomas.”

  Thomas smiled. “It’s worth a try.”

  Gavin returned to the bar and she smiled at Thomas. “Another whisky?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She went to the bar and ordered the drinks.

  “Your dad told me about you and his Lordship,” Gavin told her.

  “Oh, Gavin, please just call him Thomas?”

  “All right, all right. I’m probably just jealous of you. He’s definitely not gay, then?”

  “Absolutely definitely not gay, Gavin,” she replied without hesitation.

  “Bollocks.”

  “Bye, Gavin.” She smiled.

  “Everything all right?” Thomas asked as she returned with the drinks.

  “Fine.”

  “So why does he keep staring at me?”

  “He fancies you,” she told him and he almost inhaled his drink. “But I told him that you were absolutely definitely not gay.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a fright.”

  “No, it’s all right. I just can’t quite believe that you find me attractive, let alone anyone else.” He groaned. “Oh, God, I need to get out more.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “So, can I take you out again sometime, then?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Choosy who you go out with, are we?”

  “Extremely. How about you?”

  “Well, I’d been celibate for over twenty years but a few months ago I met this beautiful woman. She just wandered into the library without knocking and started to go through the books. The cheek. I was sitting in the corner and all I could do was stare. I fell in love with her at first sight.”

  She smiled. “I knew I was in trouble from the very first moment I saw him. He was sitting in the corner staring at me. I have to be honest and say that it wasn’t love at first sight, but it was definitely lust. The trouble was, he was my employer. We spent weeks tiptoeing around each other until his sister took pity on us and set us up together. He’s been very lonely so I’ve been trying to bring him out of himself.”

  “And is it working?” he asked softly.

  “I think it is. There’s a lot going on in his life at the moment but I think it is.”

  “And is he good in bed?”

  Her eyebrows rose and she smiled. “He is unbelievable in bed.”

  He pulled a comical face. “Well, that’s done it for us, then. How can I possibly compete with this other man?”

  “I know. I mean, that woman you’ve been going on about, she sounds far too good to be true.”

  He laughed and leaned over. “Shall we go home?”

  She nodded and they went out to find a cab.

  When the cab deposited them in the stable yard and drove away, Thomas shrugged. “So, what happens now?”

  “Well, I could invite you in for a coffee…?”

  “Ah, yes, the famous, ‘Would you like to come in for a coffee?’”

  “My only concern is that you’ll start going on about this fantasy woman again.”

  “Well, why don’t I invite you in for a coffee instead? Provided that you don’t bore me to death about this other man? I mean, how can I possibly compete with someone who is unbelievable in bed?”

  “Very well, I think, especially if you’ve got a big bed. Do you have a big bed?”

  “Well, now you come to mention it…” He held out a hand and she took it. “But I thought you didn’t sleep with anyone on the first date?”

  “I could be persuaded.”

  Walking up the stairs, they heard a door close. Lady Heaton appeared at the top of the stairs, gave them a long look and Sophia squirmed.

  “I’d like to speak with you in the morning, Thomas. About me moving out. I think it’s time, don’t you?”

  “This house is enormous, it’s not as though we are living in each other’s pockets.”

  “No, but I still think it is time.”

  “What about Stephanie?”

  “We will speak in the morning.”

  They watched her continue along a corridor then Sophia turned to him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Whatever for? You’re not pushing her out, or anything of the kind. If she wants one of the flats or one of the apartments, even, then she’s welcome to one. Just not right now. Come on,” he added softly and they went to his bedroom. He went to the window and closed the curtains. Shrugging out of his jacket, he slung it over a chair. “I might as well go and tell Stephanie right now,” he said and Sophia shook her head. “Then, what?”

  “I don’t know. But surely Lady Heaton would want to keep it from Stephanie for as long as possible?”

  “This is Lady Heaton, we’re talking about; the woman who stood back and allowed her husband to fuck another woman.”

  “Who would the estate have gone to if your father had had no children?”

  “His brother. Who worked in a bank.” He rolled his eyes. “And who would have sold this place within a week. I can’t win, can I?” He sat on the bed and held his head in his hands. “Sorry, we can’t even forget about it for one evening.”

  “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes,” she said, opening the door to the landing.

  She went to the bathroom and opened the cabinet above the wash-hand basin. Inside was shaving paraphernalia, aspirin, dental floss and a very old and rather sticky bottle of baby lotion. She smiled and returned to the bedroom with it and a towel. He looked up and frowned.

  “What’s that?”

  “Baby lotion. I’m going to give you a massage. Clothes off, please.”

  He smiled and did as she asked then lay on the towel watching as she got undressed and straddled him. He gave a little moan of encouragement as she poured on a little of the lotion and her hands started to knead and rub at his muscles, applying firm pressure where necessary. She moved over his shoulders and his neck, stroking, squeezing, working the tension away, then down his back. Her soothing fingers brought forth more groans and murmurs until she wiped her fingers on a corner of the towel and lay down beside him.

  “Good?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Fantastic. Thank you. Can I put you on twenty-four-hour call for that?”

  “What, you’d dare to interrupt the tours?” She pretended to be shocked and he laughed and leaned over to kiss her lips. “So, what do you think of dating?”

  “Not sure. Can we try it again sometime?”

  “Mmm. What would you like to do?”

  “Dinner? A drink? Make love?”

  “Sounds good, I’ll hold you to that.”

  As she brought the latest tour group up the main staircase the following afternoon she heard raised voices and a door slamming. Thomas’ meeting with Lady Heaton was clearly not going well. A couple of people raised their eyebrows and she began to flush.

  “Looks like we arrived at a bad time,” one woman commented.

  “No, not at all.” Sophia pulled herself together. “Please follow me.”

  When the group left the house, Helen approached her. “His Lordship asked if you could join him in the library.”

  “Thanks, Helen,” she said and went up the stairs and along the corridor. “Thomas?” She knocked at the library door.

  “Come in.”

  “What happened? I could hear you both on the tour.”

  “Yes, sorry about that. Well, it went spectacularly badly and the upshot is that
she’s moving out today.”

  “Today?” Sophia echoed in dismay. “What about Stephanie?”

  “When she comes out of hospital she’ll go and live with her until she’s well enough to return to the flat or go back to Leeds. Like I said last night, I might as well go and tell Stephanie everything right now.”

  On her way back to her flat, Sophia detoured and knocked at the door of Lady Heaton’s sitting room.

  “Come in? Oh, Sophia?”

  “May I speak with you, Lady Heaton?”

  “Yes, I suppose so. Sit down.”

  “Thank you.” Sophia went to an armchair. “Thomas told me your meeting didn’t go well.”

  One of Lady Heaton’s eyebrow’s rose. “That’s an understatement if ever I heard one.”

  Sophia took a deep breath. “Lady Heaton, do you really need to move out? I mean, there is more than enough room for you to have your own apartment here. Unless you really want Stephanie to know sooner rather than later?”

  “You think she’s going to find out?”

  “Of course she will, she’s not stupid.”

  “I am going to tell her as soon as possible.”

  Sophia’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  “It is better I tell her now. I do not want her to find out by accident like Thomas did. He says that he’s asked you to marry him.”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “But you haven’t accepted yet.”

  “Lady Heaton, please, if you’re going to tell Stephanie, at least wait a little while, and don’t move out, please?”

  “But as you said yourself, she’s not stupid, she is going to know something is wrong.”

  Sophia rubbed her forehead. “Just see how long it takes her to notice anything. When she asks, then she will have to be told.”

  “Are you going to marry Thomas?”

  “I need to speak to my father.”

  “Why?”

  She gave Lady Heaton an incredulous frown. “Because he’s my father.” She got up and went to the door. “Thank you for seeing me,” she said as she opened the door.

  “What does he think of Thomas?”

  “He likes him as a person.”

  “But not the title? Does he not want a daughter married to a baron?”

  “Not particularly,” she admitted.

  “How strange…Well, Thomas loves you. I knew he would.”

  Sophia shrugged. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “I narrowed the applicants for the tour guide position down to three,” Lady Heaton explained. “The first was called Kylie, which is fine for a pop singer, but not a baroness. The second was almost anorexic. Which left you. You have a lovely name and you are…how shall I say…curvaceous. I knew Thomas would love you…the amount of time he’s spent pouring over paintings of curvaceous Renaissance women…I knew you would be exactly what he was looking for. But whether he would be exactly what you were looking for was another matter. But if I let the two of you spend as much time in each other’s company maybe something would happen. And I was right, wasn’t I?”

  Sophia felt furious heat creep up her neck towards her face. “You set us up.”

  “Well, it was Stephanie who actually got you to…whatever it was you did in the car on the moors to keep warm. But, yes, I chose you.”

  Someone began to push the door open from the corridor and Sophia had to step to one side. Thomas stood in the doorway looking as furious as she felt.

  “What the hell will you not stoop to?”

  “Thomas—”

  He held up a hand to silence her. “Not only do you choose my mother, you choose my girlfriend, too. I want you out of this house today. There is an empty apartment at the farmyard. Start packing your things and get out.” He turned and left the room.

  “Hadn’t you better follow him?” Lady Heaton suggested calmly.

  Sophia went out, slamming the door behind her. She stood in the corridor for a moment her hands covering her face before taking a deep breath and hurrying to the library. Thomas was downing an enormous whisky.

  “I didn’t know, I promise,” she began.

  “Want one?” He held up a glass and she shook her head.

  “I have to drive, I have to go and see Dad.”

  “To tell him you’re leaving here?”

  “Leaving?”

  “Well, you can’t possibly want to stay now?”

  “You want me to go?”

  He drained the glass and poured another helping. “I don’t know what I want.”

  “Please don’t get drunk,” she pleaded.

  “I think I need to let go a bit, don’t you? For almost twenty fucking years I’ve done exactly what’s been expected of me. Right down to choosing you for my wife. So, please, just leave me alone. Now.”

  Sophia jumped and retreated into the corridor. She went back to the hall and sat on the stairs, watching wearily as Lady Heaton came towards her.

  “Danielle was the best of a bad lot, Sophia.”

  “Like me?”

  Lady Heaton smiled. “Could you stand back and watch Thomas father children with another woman?” Sophia’s face contorted in disgust, despite trying hard not to. “It’s all in the breeding, Sophia.”

  “So it didn’t bother you one bit that your husband presumably had to do it numerous times to father two children?”

  “No. It was something which had to be done.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Lady Heaton waved a hand dismissively. “Believe what you like, Sophia.”

  “Well, if breeding is so important, why the hell didn’t you just put an ad in Country Life or Horse and Hound?” Sophia stared at her, realising why. “Because you think he’s tainted goods, anyway. The Heaton name is there but the breeding isn’t. His mother will never be good enough. Her ancestry can’t be traced back to someone who came to England with William the Conqueror.” She smiled humourlessly. “You are unbelievable.”

  “If you say so,” Lady Heaton replied crisply and left her.

  Sophia sat on the bottom step of the stairs and began to chew her knuckles; something she had thought she had long grown out of. “Shit,” she whispered then got up from the step, left the house, and went to her flat.

  Chapter Eleven

  What do you do when the man you love is intent on getting as drunk as possible and the woman you thought was his mother but actually isn’t his mother but chose his mother actually chose you to be his wife? Scream? Run? Sophia flopped back onto the bed and groaned. She couldn’t very well go and see her father now. What could she tell him without having to lie? Nothing, she concluded, closing her eyes.

  When she opened them it was dark. Sliding off the bed, she went to the door but hesitated. Should she go back to the house? If she did, what sort of a state would Thomas be in? She sighed and went out.

  She crossed the stable yard and let herself into the house via the side door. It was pitch dark and she fumbled for a light switch. Turning it on, she went up the steps and along the corridor to the library before hesitating again. She couldn’t hear a sound from inside. Opening the door, she turned the light on.

  Thomas was slumped in the leather armchair, an empty crystal tumbler balanced precariously on the arm. She put it on the desk before tilting Thomas’ face upwards. He opened his eyes and with an effort focused his attention on her.

  “There’s none left.”

  She glanced across the room at the empty whisky decanter. “Good. Try to stand up.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re coming back to the flat with me.”

  “I’ve thrown my so-called mother out.”

  “I know. Try and stand up. Come on.” Thomas heaved himself out of the chair, wobbled, and she steadied him. “Good. Lean on me.”

  Slowly, they made their way out of the house and she locked the side door. The chilly night air sobered him a little and he groaned.

  “Take a few deep breaths,” she instructed.
>
  “I need a cigarette.”

  “No, you don’t. Breathe in and out.” He did as he was told and coughed. “Good. Come on.”

  She helped him up the stairs to the flat and straight through the living area to the bedroom, pulling back the duvet and sitting him down on the bed. Kneeling down, she proceeded to undress him. About to lie him down, he took her hands.

  “Sorry.”

  “Shh.”

  “I mean it.”

  She nodded. “Sleep.”

  “Are you coming to bed?”

  “Yes. Now sleep.”

  He lay down and she covered him with the duvet. She got undressed, turned out the light in the living area, before getting into bed beside him. She lay for a few minutes watching him sleep before leaning over and gently kissing his lips then turning off the light.

  She was woken when he woke with a jump. She rolled over and saw him gape wildly around him before realising where he was and relaxing.

  “Sorry,” he whispered.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Hangover.”

  “I’ll make some coffee.”

  She got out of bed, put her bathrobe on and went out to the kitchen, hearing him slowly getting out of the bed and groaning. Making the coffee, she felt him watching her from the bedroom door.

  “I behaved like a complete bastard last night. I’m sorry.”

  She turned and gave him a little smile. “How much do you remember?”

  “Just drinking. And drinking more. And more and more until the decanter was empty.”

  “You don’t remember me coming over to the house to fetch you?”

  He frowned. “I remember us walking across the stable yard. It was freezing.”

  He went into the bathroom and she brought the mugs over to the table.

  “I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?” he asked, walking from the bathroom to the bedroom, and pulling on his trousers.

  “Apart from getting drunk, no. Come and drink some coffee.”

  He did up the trousers then came to her. “I’m sorry,” he said again, squeezing her hands.

  “I know. And I don’t blame you for being angry.”

  “You mean you’re not?”

  “I was very angry with Lady Heaton last night. I felt manipulated and used. Now, I don’t know. She knew you would find me attractive but she didn’t know whether I would find you attractive or even like you. I mean, a workaholic who intimidated me, smoked, called me Ms Nelson until it made me want to scream, who had a terrible temper, hated having his photograph taken…need I go on?” She smiled. “But every now and then, you’d let me see past all that, and I wanted to see more. Thank God I’ve got patience. And thank God Lady Heaton picked me. Drink your coffee while I have a quick shower.”