Two
Russell Betancourt knew a thing or two about unrequited love, and how humiliating it was to have everyone in Betancourt Bay talking about you. He’d been hopelessly in love with Hope Eversley for years and had been foolish enough to declare his feelings for her on Christmas Eve, the same night that his older brother, Griff, had announced his own love for Hope’s older sister, Grace. Unfortunately for Russell, whilst Grace gleefully admitted that she loved Griff, and they had spent the night in each other’s arms at The Mistletoe Dance, Hope did not return Russell’s feelings for her. He had spent the night drowning his sorrows while putting on a brave face, and mingling with the throng of guests enjoying themselves in his home.
Hope had been kind, and she had let him down as gently as she could, and somehow, they had remained friends, as they had been for all their lives. But it had been painful for Russell to be friends with someone he loved, who didn’t feel the same about him. He needed to get over Hope and had decided to spend less time at Betancourt and more time in the apartment the family owned in London.
And then in February, Hope had fallen in love with someone else.
Russell had only returned to Betancourt for Griff’s proposal to Grace, at Griff’’s request, which was also in February, and at Easter for the Grand Opening of Betancourt Bay Café. Everyone in the village had attended that.
People couldn’t help who they fell in love with, Russell knew that, but even he was astonished when he heard the latest village gossip, within minutes of returning home to Betancourt for the first time since Easter.
He had just walked into the Great Hall, shortly after noon and, he had hoped, just in time for lunch, when Tabby, the housekeeper, had come to welcome him home.
‘I’m so pleased to see you, Russell. We’ve all missed you,’ she said, hurrying towards him.
He beamed at her. ‘Hello, Tabby. Still here? I’m delighted you’ve decided to stay on, and not retire again. Betancourt wouldn’t be the same without you.’
She had smiled at that as she always did when he teased her about her retirement. After a lifetime of working for the Betancourts, she had retired the previous year, but fortunately for the family, she had been persuaded to return within weeks, and had been back at Betancourt ever since. Even if she did now only work part-time.
Tabby had clucked at him like a hen. ‘Betancourt will always be Betancourt whether I’m here or not. But it’s not the same when you’re away.’
Russell had taken her arm and linked it through his. She was more like a grandmother than an employee, and all the Betancourts loved her, and treated her as family.
‘I’ve missed you too, Tabby. And this place.’ He glanced up at the stunningly beautiful chandelier hanging in the Great Hall as he and Tabby wandered towards the large, central staircase. Hetossed his holdall to one side of the staircase and continued with Tabby to the kitchen.
‘Will you be staying for the rest of the summer, or is this just a flying visit, like your last trip home at Easter?’
He had intended to return for a short visit in June, but work had kept him surprisingly busy, meaning he had changed his plans. The Betancourt’s thriving auction house in London, the offices of which were in a rather grand former home in the heart of Mayfair, usually ran like clockwork whether he or his brother were there or not. Their father had effectively left the running of the business to both Griff and Russell now that he had retired, and the running of the ancestral home, to Griff, as he was the next in line. But the family had been selling fine arts and antiques, books, wine, and jewellery for around two hundred years, and the Betancourts were really figureheads these days. Although throwing himself back into the business over the last few months had helped Russell get over Hope, and a new client specifically asking for Russell’s expertise in June, had reminded him how much he enjoyed the work. Plus, travelling all over the world on business, never got old as far as Russell was concerned. But nothing would keep him away from Betancourt during the first week of August.
‘I’ll be here for a week. Maybe two. I’m home for the Summer Fayre, of course, but I may stay a little longer. And I’ll be back for the wedding, obviously, and standing in for Griff while he and Grace are on their honeymoon. We all know Dad is no longer interested in running the house. Although I may get roped in to help out between now and the wedding, so perhaps I’ll stay for the remainder of the summer. I can pop back up to London if I’m needed.’
He doubted he would be now that the new client was happily on board and had signed a contract with Betancourt’s auctionhouse for the sale of his collection of exceedingly valuable paintings to go under the hammer in a forthcoming sale.
‘I do hope you’ll stay,’ Tabby said.
Russell had known Tabby all his life and he could tell there was something on her mind.
‘Why are you looking so anxious, Tabby? Is something wrong?’
‘Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,’ Tabby said, her expression saying the opposite as Russell opened the kitchen door and waited while she entered. ‘You know how gossip spreads in this village.’
‘Better than most,’ he replied, remembering only too well what the gossips had said about him during those difficult months since Christmas. And the tongues had wagged again at Easter when he had chatted with Hope and her new boyfriend, Tom. Although as he’d been spending the majority of his time in London for the past few months, he’d missed a great deal of the gossip about him, and had assumed it had now died down.
Tabby had given him a sympathetic smile. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘And you know that, like everyone in this house, I take it all with a pinch of salt and dismiss it for what it is. One or two people with nothing better to do than talk about other people, whether what they say is true or false. But … well … this is a bit of a worry. Especially as Hanna is a good friend of both Griff and Grace.’
‘Hanna? Hanna Shaw? What on earth can people be saying about Hanna? Everyone likes her.’
Tabby had thrown him a look. ‘Everyone likes you, yet that didn’t stop them all chattering, did it? And we all like Hope. But all the tongues wagged about her too. And they still are, now that she … Oh. I didn’t mean to mention Hope. I’m sorry, Russell.’
He had given her a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, Tabby. My heart is almost entirely back together now. It’s just missing one teeny tiny bit. And that will slot back in place when I fall in love with someone else. Which I shall. I’m finally sure of that.So you can mention Hope Eversley as often as you like, without me turning into a blubbering wreck. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder but in my case, absence was the best cure.’
‘I’m so pleased you’re doing so well. But you’ve never been a blubbering wreck and you never could be. You’re far too strong for that. Griff may take after your dear, departed mother in looks, while you take after Archie, but you’ve both got her strength of character, and her kind and caring heart. Shall I make some tea?’
‘I’d rather have a cold beer.’ He hurried to the fridge before Tabby could get there. ‘Which I’m more than capable of getting for myself.’ He winked at her as he removed the top and tossed it into the recycling bin. Then he strolled over to the solid, ancient oak table and pulled out a chair. ‘As luck would have it, I saw Hope and Tom walking hand-in-hand up Oak Street just now as I arrived, and we all waved at one another. I can safely say I didn’t feel a pang of jealousy. And I must admit, they do look happy together. The perfect couple.’
‘Yes,’ said Tabby, making herself a cup of tea while he spoke, and then joining him at the table. ‘They do seem perfect for one another. I hear they might be buying Oak View Cottage. Or at least, Tom might be buying it, and Hope might be moving in with him. And that’s not gossip. Pat Eversley told me that in person, so if Hope’s mum says that’s what’s happening, then it probably is.’
‘Oak view Cottage?’ Russell furrowed his brows. ‘Wasn’t that the one the Law family owned? Millicent Law lived there, didn’t she? Oh, but she died this year. I suppose her son owns it now. He and his wife and daughter live in Folkestone, if I remember correctly.’
