The Summer of Secrets

by Tilly Tennant

  Turning to her computer, she opened the bookmarked pages for the restoration schemes she’d mentioned to Will. He hadn’t seemed that keen but perhaps it was worth one more try. She jotted down some names and numbers and pertinent details in her notepad. He’d be surprised to see her, and perhaps going there was guaranteed to break her heart considering their last parting, but it was one thing to get her heart broken and quite another to let a beautiful piece of heritage go to the dogs when she could save it. Her love of history was the one constant in her life, the one thing that would always love her back – the one love she wouldn’t betray no matter what else happened.

  Dragging her phone across the desk, she was about to dial his number when a text message notification appeared. She stared at the name.

  Will.

  Frowning, she opened the text.

  Have good news. Can I see you?

  Was this message intended for someone else? Yesterday it was all thanks and goodbye, and now he was texting like they were best buddies. Could this man be any more confusing if he tried? She tapped out a brief reply.

  What is it?

  Too complicated to tell you like this, he replied. Do you have time to talk? In person? If at all possible.

  Cesca let out a squeak of frustration. She typed out a reply, her finger hovering over the send button, before deleting it and typing a new one.

  OK. Give me an hour and I’ll be there.

  She let out a sigh, annoyed at her own lack of assertiveness. She supposed she had wanted to speak to him about the house restoration schemes anyway.

  Switching off her computer and tearing the page of information from her notebook, she headed out the door, muttering to herself about how she intended to grow a backbone just as soon as she’d made this visit.

  * * *

  Will was waiting for her at the front gate, pacing up down. He was pacing outside the gate, the lock already undone before Cesca had arrived, a fact worthy of note in itself. He rarely unlocked the gate and ventured out until his guest had arrived. As she pulled up on the gravel, he practically ran to the car.

  ‘I don’t have a Mr Whippy machine in here,’ she said wryly as she opened the door to clamber out.

  ‘A what?’ Will asked. Cesca waved away a joke he was hardly likely to get anyway. When was the last time Lord William Horatio Henry Frampton, sixteenth Earl of Cerne Hay, had raced down a terraced street chasing the chimes of an ice-cream van? He’d probably had a nanny who’d made gelato by hand in one of the cavernous kitchens of Silver Hill House.

  ‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘What’s this huge news you need to tell me?’

  ‘Come through to the garden,’ he said, ushering her along with so much enthusiasm that she hardly had any other choice.

  After he’d locked the gates again, she followed as he led her around the back of the house to a paved area on which sat a table with a parasol. It was set for a meal for two.

  Cesca threw a confused glance at him. Was this for her? Her answer came as he beckoned her to sit.

  ‘I thought we might eat,’ he said. ‘I hope you haven’t already dined.’

  ‘If you mean scoffed a sandwich at my desk, then not yet.’

  ‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘I was going to make something light… Anything in particular you’d like?’

  Cesca’s frown returned. ‘Look, Will… this is lovely and everything but I’m confused. Perhaps you can tell me what’s going on and then we can eat, because if you disappear into the kitchen to cook now and leave me stewing here – if you’ll pardon the pun – then I might just explode with the suspense. So please… what is this amazing news?’

  He dragged a chair out and plonked himself across from her, arms folded on the table as he leaned in. Then he stood up again.

  ‘It’s rather complicated and I have some bread in the oven.’

  ‘Bread? OK, I won’t ask. I’ll come to the kitchen and you can tell me while you look after your bread.’

  For a moment, it seemed he would argue but then he nodded. ‘Good idea.’

  They were swallowed by the cool interior of the house as they left the sun behind and went to the smaller kitchen where Will did all his cooking. Cesca had to admit it smelt amazing, the aroma of baking bread laced with strains of rosemary and garlic.

  ‘That is one incredible pong!’ she said approvingly. ‘You’ve made it from scratch?’

  He nodded as he crossed to the oven and peered inside. Then he closed the door again and turned to face her.

  ‘What else are we having?’ she asked. ‘Want me to help?’

  ‘I want you to listen,’ he said, and she stopped and stared at him. His tone had changed again, and the strange, amiable version of Will she hardly recognised had given way to someone far more earnest. ‘I was thinking about what you said yesterday – about other ways to save Silver Hill. And you were absolutely right. You know, Cesca… you’re quite remarkable and I’m beginning to see that. I spent much of the night thinking about many of the things you’ve said in the time we’ve known each other and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve been a fool. If I want to save this house then I must do whatever it takes. And if that means opening up to the world then I must take the plunge. I’ve seen that the world is not so bad after all. I’ve met you and Harper and Pip, and you’ve all been decent with me, despite knowing my family’s shame.’

  ‘Your family’s shame was never yours.’

  ‘I’ve told myself that so many times. But you have no idea how hard it is to shake the notion. You, however, have been so kind and patient, and I know that you care about this old place. So I decided last night as I lay in bed that I would, indeed, do something to change the fortunes of Silver Hill and the Frampton family.’

  ‘I can help—’ Cesca began, but the sight of him now smiling broadly stunned her into silence.

  ‘Having reached this momentous decision, can you imagine my surprise when I had a visit this morning from Harper Woods?’

  ‘What did she want?’

  ‘To donate her finder’s reward to the restoration of Silver Hill House. Isn’t that marvellous?’

  Cesca dropped into a chair at the table. ‘Wow! I knew she’d had her doubts about whether to take the money but I never thought she’d actually give it to you.’

  ‘I’d like to show good faith by creating some kind of trust fund for it. I’ll have a solicitor draw something up but I would value your advice on the matter.’

  ‘Of course! And there’s no reason why we can’t pursue other sources of income too. If you’re going for it, might as well do it properly.’ Cesca’s mind started to race with the possibilities. They could save Silver Hill House – she and Will together could save it. She felt the excitement swell up through her, the thrill of working for something she loved. ‘We could make it amazing!’

  ‘And if not for you, I’d still be moping around this old place watching it fall apart around me. Thank you,’ he said.

  ‘There’s no need—’ she began, but her protest was cut short by his mouth suddenly over hers.

  She blinked as they parted. He pulled back, watching her closely.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said into her silence. ‘I thought…’

  Cesca reached and pulled him back. ‘You thought right,’ she whispered. Lips locked again, his kisses raw and full of need. She’d waited so long for this moment and now it had come she could barely contain the desire that pulsed through her. He was a puzzling, ridiculous contradiction of a man, but she wanted him like no man ever before.

  He broke for air, his smile for the first time one of genuine joy. ‘I’ve wanted to do that since the first time we met.’

  ‘You only had to ask.’

  He nodded with mock solemnity. ‘I must remember that next time.’ He moved in again, the tension gone and his touch less frantic as they settled into an easy rhythm, kissing as if they’d been born to kiss each other.

  ‘Your bread…’ Cesca murmured as his hands travelled the
length of her back. ‘It’ll burn.’

  But he pulled her closer, all thoughts of bread forgotten.

  Chapter 29

  The sun was already low when Cesca and Will stepped through the gates of Silver Hill House, hand in hand, late enough in the day for the bravest rabbits to have emerged from their burrows out onto the roadside. When they’d finally been able to tear themselves from each other’s arms, Cesca had phoned ahead to tell Harper they wanted to talk to her. Without making it too obvious to Will, Cesca wanted to make sure Harper knew exactly what she was giving up gifting the reward money to the restoration fund, and although Will didn’t say so, she had a feeling he understood that. She was relieved to note he clearly thought it was the right thing to do too and offered no argument over the visit.

  After their amazing afternoon, the evening was so mellow and tranquil, the moment so perfect, it had seemed only right that they walk the road to the farm together. If nothing else, it would give them the time to discuss plans for Silver Hill House, as they’d intended to before they’d become distracted by rather less academic pursuits. The bread had burnt, and the food they were supposed to be eating still lay untouched in the fridge. But Cesca felt giddy and content, and food was the last thing on her mind. She was quite sure that if she never ate again she could live off this feeling forever.

  ‘Just think,’ Cesca said as Will locked the gate behind them and they emerged onto the narrow path that tracked the road down the hill and along to the farm, ‘if Harper hadn’t found that treasure we wouldn’t be here now.’

  ‘It is strange,’ he agreed. ‘I suppose that despite not having my family’s belongings returned to me, I have found treasure of a different kind. I hope it may yet prove to be more valuable.’

  Cesca beamed, too embarrassed and overwhelmed to acknowledge his compliment.

  ‘It’s almost as if,’ he continued thoughtfully, ‘that all the while the gold was buried, our family’s good fortune was buried too. By recovering it, perhaps our happiness and good fortune will also be recovered.’

  ‘So much for your curse,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘It was a curse of sorts…’

  ‘A backwards one? Like whoever disturbed Tutankhamun’s tomb was cursed, but in this case, as long as the treasure was hidden the family was cursed until it came back to light. It’s a new theory on me but I quite like it.’

  ‘As do I,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘That’s assuming you want to see me again?’ he added, uncertainty now creeping into his tone.

  ‘What do you think?’ Cesca shot him a look of mock disapproval.

  ‘I didn’t want to assume anything,’ he replied sheepishly. ‘I’ve tussled over the matter for many nights. I had thought, for a while, you rather fancied that Norwegian chap.’

  ‘Kristofer?’ Cesca smiled. ‘He is handsome, very sweet and charming… super intelligent too…’

  ‘Sounds like the perfect match.’

  ‘On paper, maybe. But sometimes there’s just something missing no matter how right someone appears to be for you. That special something that defies explanation or logic. You know what I mean?’

  ‘I do. Although I feel somehow unworthy after that magnificent description of him.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Cesca said, laughing. ‘Besides, you don’t need to worry at all because he’s going back to Norway next week. At least he says he is.’

  ‘You don’t think he means it?’

  ‘Well, it’s just a bit sudden. One minute he’s happy as Larry living here and the next he’s packing. It’s odd, that’s all. But who knows what goes on in the private lives of people? One phone call can change everything. Like today, for example…’ She threw him a sly smile, and if she hadn’t known him incapable of such emotion she would have sworn he’d blushed.

  ‘I hadn’t intended to seduce you when I made that call, I can assure you.’

  ‘Oh. Now I’m disappointed.’

  ‘That’s not to say I didn’t find you incredibly attractive.’

  ‘I should hope so in light of the afternoon’s activities.’ Cesca shot him a sideways glance and he grinned as his gaze dipped to the floor. For the first time, she saw that he actually had dimples. He was always so serious, so aloof, that she’d never witnessed a smile wide enough to show them before. ‘It’s a shame Kristofer won’t be around though. He would have loved getting stuck into the fundraising efforts for the house. In fact, he suggested it independently of me mentioning it to him. He’s passionate about history and heritage – in fact, I think he’s passionate about lots of things. He’d have been a good person to have on our team.’

  ‘Speaking of which,’ Will began slowly, ‘I know this is perhaps terribly premature of me, but I want to put something to you.’

  ‘Sounds serious. Should I be worried?’

  ‘I hope not. But I don’t want you to reply straight away, and I want you to know that no offence will be caused by a refusal.’

  ‘Now I am worried! What is it?’

  ‘I realise it’s a long way off yet, but when the house is ready I may open sections of it to the public or use it for other purposes in order to pay for its upkeep.’

  ‘It’s the only way you can keep on top of it, so I’d fully expect you to consider those options. But you know my opinion on it if that’s what you’re asking for.’

  ‘Not exactly. Well, yes, because your opinion is valuable, but I’d like to ask if you might consider managing the scheme. Perhaps overseeing the restoration project too. I need a dependable income first, of course, but I hope to be able to match your salary at the museum at the very least. And I completely understand if you’d rather not leave your position, because I know that you love what you do, but I can think of no person I’d rather have by my side through the upheavals than you. It would be a great honour and a privilege.’

  ‘Wow! I was not expecting that!’ Cesca stared out over the golden fields, slightly dazed and wondering if she’d fallen asleep at her desk that morning and everything since had been a dream.

  ‘It’s too early to say, I know that,’ he said.

  ‘I must admit I’m already dealing with some pretty seismic shifts in the status quo of my personal situation,’ she said, smiling. ‘I mean we’ve only just begun as a couple; it’s a lot to take in all at once. But I’m hugely flattered.’

  ‘If you’re willing to give it some consideration then I can ask no more.’

  ‘I will, absolutely. But first we have to get the money, and that could take some time to happen. Perhaps for the time being, while I’m all for optimism, we should focus on the here and now.’

  ‘If it includes you then I’m more than happy to give the here and now my fullest attention.’ He smiled down at her, and Cesca’s pulse began to race again.

  Face forward, she thought, don’t look. If she lost herself in those eyes again, they might never make it down to the farm before sunset.

  * * *

  The Saturday trade had been brisker than Harper had been expecting. It was due, in part, to a cheese festival in a nearby village, though she’d only discovered this by accident on chatting to a customer who’d travelled in to visit the festival and had then decided to see what else the area had to offer, stumbling across Silver Hill Farm quite by chance. She wasn’t complaining, of course – the revenue was always welcome – but she’d heaved a secret sigh of relief that Pip had come home early from London after all. Without her calm and able assistance, Harper would have been on the verge of a breakdown by four o’clock, she was sure, and though he tried his best, Shay was about as much use as a pair of concrete skates. In fact, more than once that day she’d almost wished he’d go home to let her and Pip get on with things, his help proving to be more of a hindrance. On any other Saturday he would have done – eager for a lazy day in bed after a tough week on various building sites, and Harper didn’t mind that because she knew he worked hard during the week. She’d even suggested it at one point, but he’d simply reassured her that
he was perfectly happy where he was and then proceeded to knock a freshly made latte across the counter. Thankfully, Pip had intervened and cleaned the mess up quickly to save Harper from exploding with frustration. All week when she’d needed him he’d been missing; now, when she’d really rather manage without him, she couldn’t keep him away.

  ‘What did you do to Shay last night?’ Pip had asked during a rare moment of privacy. ‘He’s not usually this interested in the tearoom.’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea. I wish he’d sod off though – he’s like a bloody limpet today; won’t leave me alone.’

  ‘Or maybe you just feel that way because you wish it was someone else sticking to you.’ Pip had raised her eyebrows and given Harper a significant look that she couldn’t fail to interpret, but she’d merely sighed loudly to show her contempt for the theory, leaving Pip to chuckle as she went off to clear a table.

  Come five o’clock, all Harper wanted to do was lock the door and slump in front of the TV. But Shay would expect to spend the evening there, with all that entailed. She really wasn’t in the mood, but without provoking a week-long sulk, it was difficult to tell him that. Pip saw the last customer out and took the keys to lock up while Harper stripped down the coffee machine and Shay dumped the rubbish in the backyard.

  ‘Oh, hi…’

  Harper looked up to see Pip open the door to someone.

  ‘We were just about to close… Is there anything I can do for you?’

  The man stepped around Pip and looked at Harper.

  ‘Greg?’ Harper smoothed her frown away and forced a bright smile. Though she’d met him on a handful of occasions, she’d never really warmed to Greg Wicklow. After seeing the state Allie had been in at the Rising Sun the previous night, she liked him even less. But he was a neighbour, and she always did her best to be courteous no matter what. She’d never seen him in her tearoom, though, and she had to wonder what had brought him here.