Chapter 39
At the end of the day, Tobias’ driver drove them to the country inn. It was early evening when they arrived. The aroma of honeysuckle hovered in the air as they walked hand in hand up the stone steps. The Hollies was a sixteenth-century former coach house, steeped in history. Tobias gave his name at reception simply as Cavendish-Blake. The receptionist’s eyebrows rose. ‘Ah, Lord Cavendish-Blake, please follow me. I will show you to your room.’
‘Could you arrange for the luggage to be brought up, please? My driver is waiting outside.’
‘Certainly, sir.’
Megan noticed the way people responded to Tobias, yet he never lorded his position over them. Even now he hadn’t given his title. They were taken up a grand staircase, then along an oak-panelled corridor to the end room. Megan suspected it was the best room in the house. She wasn’t wrong. Megan took in the elaborately carved four-poster bed, draped with gold velvet. There was an antique dressing table and wardrobe, shelves packed with old, leather-bound books, and a huge Persian rug covered the floorboards. Matching gold velvet curtains hung with tassels framed the large sash window. The en suite was floor-to-ceiling oyster marble with a slipper bath and a ribcage shower.
‘You like?’ Tobias asked.
‘I do. It’s wonderful.’
‘I’m glad you like it. I’ve booked dinner in the restaurant for seven thirty.’
‘Right, I’d better get ready.’ He looked into her eyes. Surely he wasn’t going to suggest they shower together, was he? She returned his gaze, the effect of the champagne giving her the courage to do so. A knock at the door interrupted them.
‘That’ll be the cases.’ Tobias answered the door, leaving Megan to slip quietly into the bathroom and lock the door. She undressed and let the fine spray of the shower relax her. Nerves had started to jitter. She wondered if he felt the same.
He’d heard her lock the bathroom door and grinned wickedly to himself. What did she think he’d do? Barge in and ravish her? Hmm, the very thought had made him semi-hard. How he’d wait for tonight he didn’t know. The anticipation was killing him. Images of her exquisite body lying on the picnic rug in Quercus Woods had taunted him every night as he longed to touch and taste her again. It was slowly driving him insane. He unpacked his dinner suit and left Megan’s case on the bed. Soon she entered the room wearing a bath robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. ‘Right, I’ll leave you to get ready while I bathe.’ Tobias shut the bathroom door behind him, but didn’t bother to lock it. On the off chance Megan wanted to come in and ravish him in the bath, she was most welcome.
Once dressed, Megan looked every inch the elegant lady in her long, slim, fitted black gown. It was sleeveless with a rolled neckline. She had worn her gran’s necklace, a single diamond on a silver chain. Her hair was fresh and shiny from the shower and dried smoothly into a sleek bob. She squirted herself with a floral perfume, reminding her of Gran’s Parma violets, and she felt a sudden rush of love. After a while Tobias came into the room, wearing only a towel round his hips. ‘Forgot this,’ he grinned, picking up his dinner suit and strolled back into the bathroom. Megan gulped. What a sight for sore eyes. His body was sensational, with his broad shoulders, muscular, dark chest, slim hips and strong legs. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. After tonight there was no turning back.
They made a striking couple walking into the restaurant. Heads turned as they were shown to their table by the window overlooking the grounds. Megan felt a little self-conscious and was glad they were positioned slightly out of the way from the other diners. She wondered if Tobias had booked this particular table for that reason, which meant he must have stayed here before. Instantly prompting the next question, with whom? Insecurity crept into her psyche like an old enemy, taunting her. Determined not to let it ruin her evening she concentrated on the menu. Despite her nerves, she was quite hungry. Once they’d both ordered a starter and main course, Tobias was given the wine list. His eyes flicked over the extensive names from countries far and wide, which meant absolutely nothing to her, but obviously a great deal to him.
‘We’ll have the Conterno Cicala 2012, please.’
‘Excellent choice, sir,’ replied the waiter.
After the waiter had left, Megan said quietly, ‘Good job you know your wines. I wouldn’t have had a clue.’
‘Yes you would. I’ve ordered the wine I brought when you made dinner the first time.’
Megan smiled at the memory. It seemed a while ago now, probably because a lot had happened since then. Tobias must have been thinking something similar as he enquired about her visit to Ted.
‘It went really well, thanks. I asked him to talk to Mum.’ Tobias was listening as he poured the wine, which had been quickly brought to the table.
‘I take it your mum still has no idea?’
Megan shook her head. ‘No, I’m convinced she doesn’t know Ted’s her real dad.’
‘But you think she should know?’
‘Yes, I do,’ she replied firmly.
Tobias loved the way she knew her own mind and agreed with her, although privately he was dubious as to the outcome.
‘If you need me to help in anyway, Megan, I’m here.’ His hand covered hers over the table, and it felt warm and reassuring. Megan was touched. He had only ever shown kindness and compassion, a total contrast to what she had read about him on the internet.
Curiosity had got the better of her and she hadn’t been able to resist reading the various articles that had been written about him. The most recent one had reported his antics on his thirtieth birthday brawl. However shocking the tabloids portrayed ‘the Heir and the Fox’ she still couldn’t help chuckling.
Tobias once again caught her grinning to herself. ‘Now what’s going on in that mind of yours, Megan Taylor?’
‘Just what I’ve been reading about your sordid past,’ she teased.
‘Please don’t take it as gospel.’ Hell, the last thing he needed at this crucial stage was his past catching up on him.
‘I’m not sure I’d want my past archived in the newspapers for all and sundry to pore over.’
