‘Hi, Megan!’ one of the girls called over. ‘Sit down and have a cup of tea.’
‘Do you know what? I think I will.’ She sat down at a small table by the window overlooking the grounds. She could just about see the new stable block in the distance to the left. She imagined Tobias and Dylan working diligently to impress the inspector.
Megan was looking forward to spending more time with Tobias. He’d been so caught up with one project or another, she couldn’t wait to be on honeymoon, destination unknown. Typically, Tobias had taken care of that, too. She marvelled at what he could achieve: Ted’s cottage, this tearoom, the stables. He was a real grafter, not the high-and-mighty lord she had supposed when first arriving in Treweham.
Tobias and Megan were to take over the south wing of Treweham Hall for their private rooms. Megan was to have a big input into the décor, and this wasn’t something Tobias would take over, he assured her. Knowing this had calmed Megan. She quite liked the idea of putting her stamp on the old rooms, really being able to turn them into her home. She also liked the idea of their private rooms not being manned by Henry, who would remain in the current quarters, tending to Beatrice and Sebastian, when he was home. Tobias had mentioned a nanny for the future, but Megan refused point-blank. The differences in their upbringing had reared its head once or twice, but each had compromised, apart from Tobias when he had absolutely insisted Megan see the family’s private doctor throughout her pregnancy and not the local village one. He could be quite domineering, she had come to learn, but then she was obstinate, too, as he had pointed out. Together they had blended as a couple and now Megan couldn’t envisage life without him. It was that simple: he was her everything. She’d even learnt to love his eccentric family; his drama-queen brother, his overindulged mother and his crabby old aunt. She wondered what their child would be like and gently stroked her bump. Her thoughts were interrupted by Sebastian’s loud, confident voice.
‘And that, ladies, gentlemen and children, concludes our tour. May I suggest light refreshments in the tearoom? Thank you and good day.’ A round of applause followed, making Megan smile again. Go, Sebastian, ever the player.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Finula enter the tearoom. Soon she was sitting next to her with tea and a cream scone.
‘How’s it going?’ she asked, looking round the room.
‘Great. Sebastian’s a star.’
‘I know. I just caught the end of his tour. By the way, I’ve picked by bridesmaid’s dress.’
‘Oh, good. What colour?’
‘A kind of bronze-brown. Is that OK?’ She looked hopeful at Megan.
‘Of course. With your colouring it’ll look amazing.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t upstage the bride.’ She nudged her playfully.
‘Thanks for that, Fin,’ replied Megan drily. ‘Still no sign of that tall, dark stranger entering your gin joint, then?’
‘Nah, not yet,’ Finula replied, munching on her scone. Pity, thought Megan, wishing her friend could enjoy the same happiness she had.
