Then Sebastian was aware of his mother making a small sound – almost like a sob – and she turned and left as silently as she’d arrived. Seeing the housekeeper embracing someone so tightly must have upset her, must have reminded her of Elsa and his father. He let her go, cursing himself for failing to protect his mother yet again. He took one more surreptitious look at Jess, at the way she fitted so snugly against Robbie’s tall frame and found himself backing up, also desperate to get away from the scene.
His head was in a spin as he headed for the library, one thought overriding all the rest. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t cope with being here. It was time to make the phone call to Edward Ellingham, to set the ball rolling and find out if they would be interested in buying the estate.
Sebastian wasn’t prepared to wait for Olivia’s DNA test results. After the argument, he’d felt a carousel of emotions, one of which had surprised him. For a while, he had almost hoped Olivia would get the result she wanted: almost hoped hewasn’trelated to his father. Then he really could dump the whole mess at Olivia’s feet and walk away.
Edward Ellingham had added his personal mobile number onto the letterhead when he’d written to Henry, the phrasing of the letter making no bones about his interest in the castle, so all Sebastian had to do was dial the number. Maybe he should wait for business hours, but he needed todosomething, to be proactive. To try to move his situation forward. Once Sebastian had explained who he was, why he was phoning, and had gone through the ritual platitudes about his father’s death, an appointment for the beginning of the following week was confirmed.
With his phone set down, Sebastian took a moment to breathe, to begin to believe he could set his life back on the path he’d had to tear himself away from. To return to the enclave of fellow musicians he’d left in the lurch when he’d received the news of his father’s death. The people he couldn’t bring himself to contact because if he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold it all together.
Sebastian needed to abandon reality for a moment, and remember who he was – not the Earl of Kirkshield, not that – instead the man hereallywas: musician and carefree connoisseur of Ikea crockery. He wanted to hide away, even if it was only for a few moments.
Closing the door on himself in the music room, Sebastian took a seat on the piano stool and began to play.
Chapter 19
The only thought in Dee’s head was to get away. She had to go somewhere she could breathe, somewhere away from wherever Robbie and Jess were. The roll-neck jumper she was wearing was suddenly too hot, and she tugged at it. Or was she too cold? It was impossible to tell. She felt numb, her fingers useless as she grabbed at the fabric folds surrounding her throat, fingernails scratching at her skin.
How could she be so stupid? Why was she still naive enough to believe anyone might have genuinely strong feelings for her? She should have realised there was more to the relationship between Robbie and Jess when she had seen her putting her hand on Robbie’s arm the day she was at his cottage. It was her own fault for believing there could be more between Robbie and herself – she should have known better.
Less than a week ago she would have been content with Robbie’s friendship – she still should be – and yet now she knew there couldn’t be more to their relationship than that, the whole thing felt hopeless.
Dee took the stairs two at a time and locked herself in her room, pacing from one side of the space to the other.
It was laughable, if she stopped to think about it, that anyone as special as Robbie could fall in love with someone like her – she was the dullest, most uninteresting woman on the face of the planet. She must be. Henry had become bored with her quickly enough, hadn’t he?
In frustration, she struck again and again at the wall with balled-up hands, pain shooting through her arms and tears pricking her eyes. She should know by now just how little she mattered, in the grand scheme of things.
It had been a large part of what had attracted her to Henry, she supposed. His maturity and confidence. His life experience. She’d wanted to feel greater than the sum of her parts. She’d thought Henry would help her to grow and develop into someone better, someone more interesting.
Instead, she’d been shoved into a small box, left to inhabit a space smaller than the one she’d had before she married him.
And now what? In a misguided attempt to escape the gilded cage she’d inhabited for such a long time, Dee had fallen for a man who had far too much to offer to be interested in someone like her. She was pathetic.
Throwing herself onto the bedspread, Dee buried her face in her pillow and allowed the pain to turn to sadness as the image of Robbie’s calm smile taunted her.
He was a gentleman. A gentle man. He and Jess – or someone else as young and beautiful as that girl – would find proper love and be very happy together. Maybe he would share scraps of his life with Dee in the meantime, but soon enough he’d realise she had little to offer him, not really. And the sooner she faced up to that reality, the better.
Dee wept until she ran out of energy, eventually falling into a restless sleep.
Once Robbie had left, Jess dragged Digby out for a wee, the little dog scooting back onto his bed the moment they were back inside. Bolting the door went some way to making Jess feel safer, too.
She felt as though the castle had undergone a mini apocalypse, that she needed to barricade herself inside to keep everyone safe from shotgun-wielding marauders. Silly, really. The gun room was inside the house – and, although it was locked up tight, that meant there were probably more guns inside the property than outside. Strictly speaking, she’d be safer outside. Her thought process was crazy, logic dictated she had nothing to worry about, and yet she couldn’t help herself.
Without the party to cater for, Jess took the bottles of champagne from the fridge, standing them on the dresser instead. She’d have to find out where to put them, and decide what on earth she was going to do with all the food filling the fridge. Freeze what she could, she supposed. Use the rest of it over the next few days.
‘No. I can’t …’ She swung the fridge door closed, deciding Sebastian had been right to tell her to take the night off, to rest. Her brain was fried anyway; she couldn’t think straight. Maybe a few pages of a book and some of her favourite music would calm her.
She made her habitual circuit of the downstairs in preparation for retiring for the night, and saw the lights were still on in the music room, a warm glow seeping under the connecting door into the drawing room. Then she heard the music.
Pushing open the door, she saw Sebastian playing, his back to her. This time, she didn’t hesitate to gain his attention. She didn’t want him to think she was eavesdropping on him. Not after the day they’d both had.
‘Sebastian?’ she said, softly but with enough volume to gain his attention. His fingers lifted from the keys, and he turned. ‘Can I listen for a while?’
He smiled, gesturing for her to come closer. She perched on the end of the long piano stool and stayed quiet, allowing him to pick up from where she’d disturbed him. She had no idea what piece of music he was playing – there was no sheet music, he was playing from memory – but it was magical. Jess found herself closing her eyes, allowing the notes to roll their way over her. She felt herself smile for the first time since the shoot.
He played another piece, then another. This one she did recognise.
‘I think I know that one,’ she said, her tone low and quiet, as though she didn’t want her words to break the moment.
