Chapter 5
‘Mr Fox and Mr Delany to see you, sir,’ announced Henry to Tobias, who was busy perusing paperwork behind his desk. Seeing his old friends made a welcome break from all the depressing figures stretched out before him.
‘And what brings you two here?’ he smirked, then added, ‘Thank you, Henry, that’ll be all.’ Henry nodded and left the study. Tobias got up to join the two men. Seeing these close friends he’d known since childhood lifted his spirits. They’d never changed, in their ways or looks: Seamus, with his swept-back copper-red hair, freckles and ready grin; Dylan with his dark gypsy looks, black curls and piercing blue eyes. Together they had made a formidable force, forever challenging the authorities of their public schools, earning them early reputations, which had carried on into adulthood.
‘Good to see you, Tobias.’ Dylan Delany slapped him on the back.
‘Surveying the estate?’ enquired Seamus Fox with a raised eyebrow.
‘What’s left of it,’ answered Tobias drily. His eyes fixed on the brandy sitting on the sideboard. ‘Fancy a drink?’ It was 11o’clock in the morning.
‘Why not?’ Seamus sat down on the sofa and stretched his legs out, whilst Dylan sat in the Chesterfield chair, rubbing his hands together.
‘Yeah, never too early for a snorter.’
Tobias collected cut-glass tumblers from the side and poured three generous brandies, handing two to his friends. He plonked himself next to Seamus Fox. ‘Cheers,’ he saluted them, and downed it in one. Seamus frowned, sensing all was not well with his best friend.
‘What’s wrong, Tobias?’
Tobias looked gloomy for a moment then stated flatly, ‘We’re broke. The estate’s fucked.’ A short silence followed, until Dylan spoke.
‘Listen, I can lend you—’ He was interrupted by Tobias’ harsh laugh. Though Dylan Delany was Champion Jockey, not even his money would touch the colossal funding that the Hall desperately needed. It wasn’t thousands, it was millions.
‘Thanks, Dylan, but there’s a Third World-size debt to clear. I can’t believe my father has got us into such a state.’
Seamus frowned again. ‘But it all looks fine, everything as it always was.’ He was commenting, of course, on all the plush surroundings and well-tended grounds, the staff quietly going about their duties. To all intents and purposes it did look like business as usual, but Tobias knew full well what lay beneath the façade.
‘That’s because he borrowed so much money to keep the Hall ticking over. My business alone can’t support it.’ He shook his head in despair. Tobias had started his own company years ago, buying old, dilapidated buildings, renovating and selling them at astronomical prices. Freshly renovated barns with a modern twist – skylights, mezzanine balconies, streamlined, sleek fittings – were all the rage in areas such as the Cotswolds, as were the crumbling historical houses that were transformed into high-class apartments. It amazed Tobias just how quickly and expensively these properties sold. But even the profits that he had stacked up could hardly touch the debts Treweham Hall was accumulating. He paused, then turned to Dylan. ‘But thanks for the offer anyway.’
Dylan looked troubled. He hated to see his old mate like this, so glum, a far cry from the lovable rogue he knew so well. Seamus was racking his brains to find a solution to his friend’s dilemma.
‘What can you sell to raise emergency funds?’ He, too, had thought of giving Tobias support. His family owned a racehorse training yard, with stables of top thoroughbreds earning them thousands. However, he knew Tobias too well to offer him money. It wasn’t the way he operated. Beneath the playboy exterior that the media had been so keen to portray lay a gentleman at heart.
‘Paintings. I’ve arranged for five pieces to be auctioned, which should raise immediate cash.’
Seamus nodded in acknowledgment.
‘I’m due a race soon,’ Dylan chipped in. ‘A substantial wager would bring in the bacon.’
Tobias grinned. ‘What if you lose?’
‘I never do, not when it matters,’ replied Dylan with confidence and a wink. Dylan’s ocean-blue eyes twinkled with mischief. He was fiercely competitive and his athletic physique made him the hugely successful jockey he was. His ancestry dated back to Romany travellers, and he attributed his gift of the gab to this, as well as his success with the ladies. Dylan Delany was a real catch, everyone knew that, but the trouble was he refused to be caught. He weaved his way through various relationships, ducking and diving, avoiding any commitment. The more unobtainable he became, the more he was desired.
Dylan had a reputation and it took some upholding. He couldn’t help it if he loved women. He genuinely did like their company. He appreciated their femininity, the way they dressed so elegantly, their fragrance, their beautiful shiny, long hair, or sassy short hair, for that matter – he liked both. He was a sucker for any damsel – he was only human, after all. But deep down Dylan was a decent man and hated to see one of his close friends in any kind of trouble. Seamus was equally protective of his best friend.
‘True,’ agreed Seamus, ‘but it’s too much of a risk in the current climate.’
Dylan looked at him. ‘Says the Fox for whom I’ve made a fortune.’
‘True again,’ said Seamus with a laugh. Fox was a fitting name for him, with his ginger hair and sly, cunning wit.
‘Sometimes I feel like selling the whole bloody place, lock, stock and barrel to some rich American… throw in the title, too,’ moaned Tobias.
‘Surely it’s not that bad,’ sighed Seamus. He’d grown to love Tobias’ home, spending many a childhood summer there, and he smiled wistfully remembering the scrapes they’d got into. He’d also grown to love the family, who always made him feel so welcome. In later years Treweham Hall had acted as a temporary retreat when he had fallen out with his father. Sean Fox was a formidable force. He had a driving ambition where his horses were concerned, and ran his stables with a cast-iron fist. Although he loved both his sons, he wouldn’t tolerate any form of subordination and treated them as he would any other member of staff, strictly but fairly. A young Seamus didn’t agree with his father’s authoritarian methods and his defiance had got him booted out of the Fox household. The Cavendish-Blakes came to the rescue, giving him the full use of the Gate House on their estate. This had proved to be the perfect solution, especially to Seamus’ mother, whose desperate pleas to bring Seamus home had been totally ignored by her hardened husband.
‘Do you remember my stay in the Gate House?’ Seamus chuckled.
‘No, I remember when youlivedin the Gate House,’ retorted Tobias.
