Seamus, Tatum and the girls were staying at the Hall, and they’d been a welcome distraction, with Beatrice and Celia entertaining them with tales from their cruise. Sebastian was in good humour, too, acting the fool with the girls, who had been giddy with laughter. Tobias and Seamus had kept an eye out, closing all the curtains and giving strict instructions to the staff to be extra vigilant. Now they were in his study and the TV was on. Tobias glanced towards it on hearing his name.
‘Lord Tobias Cavendish-Blake, the notorious wild child, is to marry Megan Taylor, a local girl from the leafy village of Treweham tomorrow…’ Pictures of him then flashed across the screen, some from his early days with Seamus, surrounded by glamorous women.
Seamus stood next to him and knocked back his brandy, too. ‘They don’t ever let up, do they?’ Then the inevitable came, making Tobias’ stomach contract.
‘Tobias was engaged ten years ago to Carrie Palmer, who was tragically killed by a drunk driver…’ Then images of Carrie filled the screen. Tobias drew in a ragged breath and clutched his glass. There was even a shot of her gravestone. Seamus picked up the remote control and switched the television off.
‘You don’t need this, mate.’ He poured him another brandy and Tobias took it with a trembling hand. ‘It’ll be over this time tomorrow. You and Megan will be married and away from it all. Just concentrate on the life ahead of you, Tobias.’
‘I know, you’re right.’ He channelled his thoughts on Megan and his unborn child, which immediately calmed him. He pictured Seamus, Tatum and their happy little family. This would be him, too, at last. ‘Come on, let’s join the others.’ Seamus slapped his back. ‘Tomorrow will be fine, trust me.’
‘Thanks, Seamus.’
*
Megan, her mum and Finula had enjoyed their girls’ night in. Fortunately they hadn’t watched the TV so Megan was unaware of the extent of the coverage being plastered all over the evening news. Kate had texted to say she had arrived safely and was going straight to bed. She had arranged to see Megan first thing in the morning.
It was late by the time Megan’s mum and Finula left, after checking the coast was clear. Next door in Ted’s old cottage was a bodyguard keeping close watch. It was all a little unnerving. Megan was actually starting to like the idea of being tucked up safely in the fortress of Treweham Hall along with Tobias and his quirky family.
It was half-past midnight when the phone rang. Staring at it, she paused before answering. Then, recognising the number displayed, she picked it up. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi. You OK?’ He sounded concerned.
‘Yes, of course. Are you?’
‘Yes. Had a good evening?’
‘We did, thanks, and you?’
‘Hmm, Megan, have you seen the news?’ he anxiously asked. Megan knew exactly what he was getting at and had deliberately avoided putting on the TV.
‘No.’
‘Good.’
‘Tobias, it wouldn’t make any difference, you know, no matter what’s said about you.’
He sighed down the phone. ‘I love you, Megan.’
‘And I love you, Tobias. See you in the morning. I’ll be the one in the white dress.’
He laughed. ‘And I’ll be the happiest man alive.’
*
Finula rushed through the back door of The Templar. She could hear voices in the bar. Frowning, she poked her head round the door to see her dad talking to the producer chap, who caught sight of her and called out, ‘Fancy a nightcap?’
She edged back hesitantly, but then Dermot turned round.
‘Ah, Finula, come and meet Marcus.’ Entering the bar, she took in this stranger’s handsome face. He had a dishevelled, swarthy look about him with stubble and dark hair. His eyes were green with amber flecks, reminding her of someone but she couldn’t quite place who. He held out his hand and she shook it.
‘Hello there.’
‘Hi.’ He held her hand a fraction longer than expected. She looked at him and he stared back. ‘Well, better get some sleep, big day tomorrow,’ she gabbled, suddenly a touch self-conscious. ‘Good night.’
‘Night, Princess,’ her dad called.
Finula climbed the stairs and fell into bed, a warm glow flickered inside her.
