Chapter 42
The Templar was packed. Megan and Finula were rushed off their feet. Every table was occupied by the tenants in Treweham village, who paid rent to the Cavendish-Blakes’ estate, mainly rustic farmers who demanded a constant flow of beer. It was the night of the Landlord’s Supper. By tradition, the Lord of Treweham Hall paid for all his tenants’ supper once a year and in return they would submit their annual rent. Of course, nowadays it was all done monthly electronically, but some traditions prevailed and this was one tradition Tobias and the village of Treweham were keen to uphold. Megan had laughed when Tobias and Finula had explained the custom, dating back to the medieval times.
‘But it’s an important event,’ pressed Finula. ‘There’d be uproar if it didn’t take place, plus it’s good for the pub.’
Tobias agreed. ‘Absolutely, it’s worth every penny to keep the tenants happy. Besides, it’s a good night, brings the community together.’
It was certainly doing that, thought Megan as she wiped her forehead and pulled yet another pint of ale. Dermot had called upon all his staff to assist with the cooking and serving. Finula and Megan were working flat out behind the bar. Megan could see Tobias sitting centre at the top table, looking very fetching in a navy suit and white shirt, chatting and laughing with nearby farmers. He must have felt her watching him, as he suddenly glanced towards her and smiled, and her stomach flipped again as she quickly smiled back.
Megan’s curiosity grew when she saw Sebastian sitting next to Tobias. Judging by their easy manner together it was obvious the brothers were close. Megan tried discreetly to study Sebastian. With his blond hair and a smaller build he looked nothing like his brother. He had the same mischievous grin, though, she noticed, and was a tad dramatic in his demeanour – a real performer, she suspected. His voice certainly carried well as she remembered his clear, sharp tones in the summerhouse.
As if reading her mind, Sebastian made his way to the bar and presented himself. With a wide smile he said, ‘Sebastian Cavendish-Blake, at your service.’ He bowed.
Megan giggled. ‘Pleased to meet you, Sebastian. I’m Megan.’ She held her hand out, which he shook firmly.
‘Ah, yes, the fair maiden who has stolen the heart of my brother, no less.’ He held such presence and spoke with real drama, almost as though he was starring in a Shakespeare play. She assumed his world was the stage and he never really stopped acting.
‘What can I get you?’
‘A large malt for my lord and master and a pint of your finest for me.’
‘Coming up.’ Megan saw Nick enter the pub out of the corner of her eye and braced herself. Not really knowing how to react to him, she glanced over at Finula, but Finula hadn’t spotted him. Neither had Sebastian, as he took the drinks and made his way back to the top table. Nick sat down alone in the corner. After a few minutes he approached the bar and Megan saw him stumble slightly.
‘A large, red wine, please.’
Did she imagine it, or was he slurring his words a touch? Megan poured him a glass.
‘Seen Ted?’ he asked. Megan’s heart dropped: he was obviously keen to exchange pleasantries.
‘Yes, I took Zac to see him the other day.’
Nick smiled. ‘He’d have enjoyed that. Next time you go let me know.’
Megan didn’t answer. She saw Tobias look over, stormy faced, though Sebastian still hadn’t seen Nick. He had his back to the bar and was entertaining a small group with animated gestures, causing raucous guffaws. Nick took his wine and returned to his table.
‘Have you seen him? He looks pissed to me,’ Finula hissed. She had noticed the way Nick had plonked himself down, spilling some of his drink on the table.
‘I know,’ Megan whispered back, a sense of foreboding washed over her. ‘Oh, no, he’s coming back,’ she said in a hushed tone. Nick’s glass was empty. He must have downed in one what was left in it.
‘Fin-ula,’ he drawled, ‘always a pleasure to see you.’ Finula gave him a look of utter contempt. He turned to Megan, ‘Another glass of red, please, Megan.’
‘Nick, are you sure?’ she quietly asked.
‘No. You know what? I’ll have a white wine instead.’ Then, leaning forward over the bar, he reached out to touch Megan’s necklace. ‘That’s a very pretty necklace.’ Megan could smell the alcohol on his breath; he had bloodshot eyes. His hand moved towards the back of her neck and he pulled her towards his face. ‘Kiss me, Megan,’ he slurred.
‘Take your hands off her, Fletcher,’ Tobias ordered.
Nick gave a look of exaggerated surprise and released his hold on her.
‘Oh, look who it is, Lord Cavendish-Blake himself.’
‘Outside, now.’ Tobias was taking his jacket off. Megan and Finula exchanged looks of alarm.
‘Pardon?’ laughed Nick. ‘Outside? And will I be needing my duelling pistol, or my sword?’ Sebastian, finally noticing Nick’s presence, was making his way over.
‘Right, you asked for this.’ Tobias curled his hand into a hard fist and punched Nick full in the face, making him roll back and fall on the floor. A shocked hush followed. Finula ran to get her dad. Tobias had turned his back to get his jacket when Nick suddenly rose to his feet, grabbed a nearby stool and threw it at him.
‘Tobias!’ screamed Megan, just in time for him to turn halfway and elbow the stool out of his path, hurtling it onto a table full of glasses. Shards of glass flew everywhere. Tobias lunged at Nick with one final blow, throwing him across the bar, causing more smashed glasses. The pub was silent. Dermot appeared with a frantic Finula.
