Her insides fizzing with joy, Giselle leapt to her feet. ‘I can’t go like this! I look a mess.’ She tugged at the band holding the end of the braid she’d so carelessly plaited this morning and shook her hair free. ‘Have you got a brush? And some make-up? I need make-up!’
‘You don’t need make-up. You’re perfect as you are. Although maybe you could do with brushing your hair out,’ Izzy laughed.
Hastily, Giselle ran the proffered brush through her tangled hair. Having been plaited for so long, it would never lie straight without her washing it, but at least she didn’t look like Medusa. It would have to do.
‘Wish me luck,’ she said.
‘You won’t need it. And, Zelle?’
‘What?’
‘I won’t bother waiting up, but message me if you’re planning on staying out all night.’ Izzy’s laughter followed Giselle out of the door.
Halfway to the castle’s entrance, Giselle faltered. Should she be doing this? Wouldn’t it be better to wait for him to come to her? Or was that being cowardly? Rocco had been brave enough to return to Duncoorie and blurt out that he loved her in front of a total stranger who, let’s face it, had been less than welcoming, so he deserved to know she felt the same way about him.
She still couldn’t believe it…
Avril spotted her immediately and hurried over. Grabbing her arm, she dragged her to the side and hissed, ‘Rocco’s here!’
‘I know. I’ve just spoken to him.’
‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m absolutely bloody marvellous.’
‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘Where is he now?’
‘In the parlour with her –Claire. The estate agent is in the lounge. They were in the parlour together, but then Rocco arrived and the next minute the bloke comes out with a face like thunder and sets up camp in the lounge. What’s going on?’
‘I’ll tell you later,’ she said, dashing off. If Rocco wasn’t putting the castle on the market, he should be the one to tell everyone the good news. Giselle didn’t want to steal his thunder. And as for the love thing…? She hadn’t had a chance to take it in herself yet, and there was a part of her that continued to think she was mistaken.
Scampering through the series of interconnecting rooms which led to the parlour, her heart thudding in her ears, Giselle had just reached it when the double doors opened and out strode Claire. She had a supercilious smile on her face, which stuttered like a faulty light bulb when she spied Giselle. However, it swiftly returned, brighter than ever.
‘I’m sorry,’ Claire said, closing the door firmly behind her. ‘Rocco is busy right now. Do you have an appointment?’ Her fingers remained curled around the handle.
‘No, but—’
‘In that case, could I ask you to make one? I can give you his PA’s number. Or, better still, speak to Cal; he’s the estate manager after all, so he’s the one who should be dealing with any queries or issues relating to the craft centre. Rocco is far too busy.’
‘I’m not, it’s—’ Giselle stumbled over the words ‘—personal.’
Claire’s gaze was hard and piercing. ‘I bet it is. Unfortunately—Oh!’
The handle was wrenched out of Claire’s grasp, and she staggered backwards, her high heels unbalancing her as the door flew open.
Rocco halted, his expression grim. ‘Giselle?’
Giselle looked from him to Claire, and she backed away.
Rocco put out a hand. ‘Don’t go.Please. Claire, go join Kurt Whatshisname in the lounge.’
Claire’s lips tightened. ‘Do you want us to carry on, or should we wait for you, since you’re here? It doesn’t matter either way, but I thought you might like to be involved, considering you’re the vendor.’
‘I… No, go ahead.’ Rocco looked drawn, his eyes clouded with an emotion Giselle wasn’t able to read.
Claire gave her a sideways glance. ‘If we work fast, we could have the castle on the market by the end of the week. Is that acceptable? Or do you need more time to think about the asking price?’
