Page 46 of Joker in the Pack

“And I wouldn’t sleep tonight from worrying. Our gardener’s son’s in the trade, and he’ll come today as a favour to me. It’s no bother.”

I didn’t want to be in Tate’s debt, but at the same time, I hated the prospect of sleeping in a house where the only barrier between me and a possible psychopath was Aunt Eleanor’s nicknack shelves. Last night, I’d destroyed half of the nails I’d managed to grow since I left London as my fingers found their way to my mouth in a reflex action, and I didn’t want to chew off the rest of them.

“I’ll pay you back as soon as I can afford it.” He opened his mouth, to protest, no doubt, and I held up a hand. “Please. I have to for my own peace of mind.”

I didn’t want to be treated like a charity case.

“As long as you let me treat you to lunch.”

That I could deal with, and I smiled for the first time since I found my home wrecked. “That’s very kind of you.”

I followed him out to a shiny blue Mercedes S-Class, identical to the one Edward drove except for the colour. Edward’s had been silver. Tate opened the door for me, and I sank into the soft leather seat and breathed in the new-car smell. I’d missed that.

My appetite had returned by the time we pulled up outside the Italian restaurant, fuelled by Tate’s charm and the feeling of safety that came from being away from Lilac Cottage.

“So, what made you move to Upper Foxford?” he asked me as the antipasti arrived.

“My aunt died, and I inherited the cottage.”

“I didn’t realise you were related to Eleanor—were you close?”

“I hadn’t seen her since I was a little girl. When I found out about the house, I didn’t even know where it was.”

Tate tilted his head to one side. “Then why did you move here? Why not sell the cottage or even rent it out?”

I’d hoped to avoid that question. “The lease was up on my flat in London, and I couldn’t find much within my price range what with Christmas coming up. Moving to Upper Foxford seemed like the perfect solution, at least until now.”

If his clenched fists were anything to go by, some of my anger had rubbed off on Tate. “I can’t believe the mess those scoundrels have made. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes…”

“It must have taken them most of the day. Back in London, one of the neighbours might at least have noticed the noise and called the police.”

“One of my colleagues lives in London, and a thief convinced the doorman of his apartment building that he was an interior designer there to renovate. The doorman actually helped to carry all the furniture out.” Tate paused. “Sorry. That probably wasn’t what you wanted to hear.”

“Not really.” I decided to change the subject. “So, what do you do at work?”

“I’m a lawyer, for my sins. I passed the bar exam last year.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“Not as much as John Grisham likes to make out. I’m in the corporate division. In reality, most of my cases settle before they get to court. Nobody wants their name dragged publicly through the mud.”

Something I understood very well, and so, unfortunately, did Mandy Clark when she plastered shots of me with my dress around my waist all over Facebook.

“Are you at a local firm?”

He shook his head. “I join the happy throng travelling into London each day.”

“Have you always lived around here?” I asked.

“My family’s owned the Prestwold Manor for generations.”

“You still live there?”

“Yes and no. My father lives in the main house, I have one of the cottages, my uncle converted the tithe barn, and my cousin has the old stables.”

Wow—that sounded like some place. Posh. For once, I was glad my mother made me recite DeBrett’s before each meal instead of grace. And I liked that Tate was still close to his family.

I smoothed my napkin over my lap and made sure to keep my elbows off the table as the food arrived. Tate had chosen the restaurant well; I had to give him that. My tagliatelle with white truffle shavings was the tastiest meal I’d eaten in the post-Edward era. Tate may have been forking his food down, but I forced myself to chew slowly, my mother’s voice echoing in the back of my head.

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