Page 28 of His Wedding Day Revenge

Jane laughed and the girl looked reassured. ‘No problem if you want to take it here.’

The shower, with its array of bewildering controls, was twice the size of the entire bathroom in her cottage...actually, her bedroom. As Jane revolved in the pummel of the warm spray she could feel the knots in her neck and shoulders begin to loosen and she allowed herself the indulgence of enjoying the luxury. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d lingered in the shower and there had not been any long, luxurious soaks in a long time.

When she finally forced herself to leave, she felt, if not a new woman, certainly a less tense one. Encased in one of the mountain of fluffy robes, she returned to the bedroom after first glancing in on Mattie, who was fast asleep.

Maybe she would skip supper and just have a glass of milk. Half an hour earlier she’d been starving but now her appetite had gone. She was often so busy that she rarely sat down to a meal, instead eating a sandwich or something on the go. Some days she went to bed and realised she’d forgotten to eat; it was an effort to drag herself out of bed to make a sandwich or have a glass of milk but she made herself—mostly.

If she hadn’t the clothes hanging in the wardrobe would look even more ill-fitting than they already did, she thought, putting her travel-creased clothes in a linen hamper and trying not to catch sight of herself in the full-length mirror.

The packet of online information on the course had said there were laundry facilities, which was a relief and a must when you were travelling with a baby, so Jane wasn’t really worried about the negligible wardrobe, which took up a couple of hangers and one drawer.

She hastily selected some fresh underclothes, a denim cotton skirt, which, like many of her clothes, felt too loose at the waist, and a sleeveless blouse, pale blue with splurges of orange, that tied at her midriff. She fastened it with a knot but it still gaped sightly, showing a sliver of her midriff. The shirt looked like silk but wasn’t, hence the bargain price.

Dragging a quick comb through her hair, she shoved her feet into a pair of sandals and hurried back to the sitting room, where the young girl was looking at her phone. When Jane entered she put it back into her pocket.

‘I have decided not to go to the supper,’ she said immediately.

‘Of course, I will have some supper sent up to you.’

‘Actually just a sandwich... Have you eaten? Am I keeping you from your supper?’

‘Oh, I’ve already eaten. There are always sandwiches, salads and so forth laid out for staff on duty during the evening.’ She pulled an apple from her pocket like a magician.

‘That sounds perfect. Give me directions and I’ll go and help myself if you don’t mind sitting with Mattie?’

‘I don’t mind, but you’re a guest.’ The girl looked doubtful.

‘Really, I could do with stretching my legs and getting my bearings before tomorrow. Just direct me to the kitchen.’

‘Well, there is a back way that is much quicker—the elevator at the end of the corridor, not the one you came up in. Turn right out the door and just walk to the end. You can’t miss. It will take you directly there.’

‘I won’t be long, and if Mattie wakes...’ She pulled out her phone and gave the young woman her number.

‘Can’t miss it’ were, in Jane’s opinion, classic famous last words, but actually she didn’t miss it and a short while later found herself, not in the main kitchen, but in what appeared to be an anteroom where food was laid along a long table. There was plenty of food left but the room was empty.

There was much more available than sandwiches and salads under their plastic coverings, including a few warm dishes in a heated trolley, which Jane avoided. By now she had totally passed the point of being hungry but recognised she needed food.

With some smoked-salmon sandwiches on a plate, she had intended to go straight back to the nursery, but as she walked past a stable-style door, its top section open to allow the gentle breeze to enter the room, she paused, filled with a sudden longing to breathe in some of that sweet-smelling air.

Carefully unlatching the bottom, she closed it after her and stepped outside into what appeared to be a courtyard. Several storeys rose above it. None of the windows were lit; they just seemed like black empty eyes looking down at her.

There was nothing sinister about the central area, which, as far as she could tell, was a neatly tended kitchen garden, which explained the fragrance that had brought her outside. At the far end there was a tall stone arch, and moonlight filtered through.

Standing curiously in the opening, she was transfixed by the view of the moonlit gardens, the gentle trickle of flowing water from the series of fountains blending with the not so distant hush of waves retreating on a shoreline she could not see.

Without intending to, she found herself wandering along one of the paved pathways bordered by lavender that brushed her legs, filling the evening air with perfume as she glanced back to check that the arch was still in sight. She didn’t want to lose her point of reference and get lost.

She laughed under her breath, a bitter sound. She’d already lost her way the moment Draco had stepped back into her life. Something about him seemed to disable her ability to think straight, to make rational decisions.

‘I’m beginning to think this was a bad idea, coming here. Beginning?’ she mocked, looking around the magical setting and huffing a small ironic laugh. Who was she kidding? She had always known it was a bad idea.

But I came anyway.

She had told herself it was a logical choice, that she had been left with no option, but the reality was she could have said no at any point. She could have wriggled out of it, but she hadn’t.

‘Why?’ she asked herself, before closing her eyes as if she could block the answer to her question.

Draco was like a drug. She had gone cold turkey to get him out of her system and it had hurt. She really couldn’t let him back in.

---