Page 91 of Stolen Kiss

“Are you ready, Cynthia?” Jennifer asked.

Cynthia glanced over to the door to her rooms, and then around the living room. She never thought she’d have these rooms. If her plan to marry Jonathan had gone ahead, she wouldn’t have any rooms at all at Turner Hall.

Taking her mother’s rooms after she died was small compensation for the heartache of being away from her beloved.

“Yes. I won’t see these walls for some time, and I won’t miss them,” Cynthia said.

She picked up her travel bag and a light jacket and pushed her feet into her shoes. Then, giving the room a nod, she stoked her flat stomach and smiled.

“Let’s go,” Cynthia said.

Her father allowed her a small allowance for her expeditions, but not much. She spent her time with Jonathan, so they needed little money. Jennifer’s travel, food, and room were paid for out of the Turner purse. They did not afford Cynthia the sameluxury. Her brother Freddie gave her money, as he was allowed a generous salary from the Turner estate plus his wages from the oil rig. He gave her half his wages. And she gladly took it.

Bitterness had inched its way into her heart at the unfairness of her situation. She was stuck, unable to learn a skill to have a job should she run away. Any classes she would take would get reported straight back to her father and grandfather. She wasn’t brave enough to run away without a backup of money or a job. Her father made sure she had neither.

When she reached the bottom of the staircase and stepped onto the marble floor, Freddie came out of her grandfather’s study.

“Are you off?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m not sure when I’ll be back. It will depend on how much Italy takes my interest.”

“It’s a shame you won’t be here for the wedding,” he said.

“You and Imelda don’t want my sour face ruining the pictures. Anyway, it will be a small ceremony at the chapel, back here for nibbles and champagne, and then onto marriage. I still think you should delay it for another year.”

“You make it sound functional.”

“That’s because marriage is for a Turner. Marry, have a minimum of two children to secure the lineage, and waft about this place like Lords.”

“You sound jealous,” he bit back.

“I’m not jealous,” she whispered. Then stepping towards her brother, she stood a few inches away and roared, “I’m furious you get what you want, and I don’t.”

Cynthia didn’t wait for a reply. She knew that his money allowed her the luxury of going away, but she couldn’t contain her retort when he pressed her buttons. And he let her bully him as if he deserved it somehow. He kept telling her he didn’t want to run the Turner estate now or ever, but slowly, their father hadshoehorned him into working during his three weeks off when he should have been resting from the rigs.

She trotted down the steps of Turner Hall with Jennifer following her. A car was waiting with their luggage to take them to the quayside and the boat. Without a glance over her shoulder, they were on the move.

Cynthia and Jennifer travelled to Italy by boat for the entire journey, changing vessels at Southampton. After three days at sea, they then travelled by train and then by bus to Lake Como. Friends of the Turners had agreed to let Cynthia use the villa for the summer. It would be the summer that would change her life. Jennifer was free to do whatever she pleased once they’d arrived, giving her and Jonathan privacy.

“It’s beautiful here,” Cynthia said.

Jennifer joined her on the balcony of the second-floor suite of rooms. They both had a gin cocktail in their hands. They acted as loyal friends when they were out of sight of Turner Hall.

“It’s stunning. We’re going to have a great summer. When is Jonathan arriving?” Jennifer asked.

“In a couple of hours. Feel like a swim until he gets here?”

“Yes,” Jennifer said enthusiastically. “Race you to the pool.”

Without spilling a drop of their cocktails, they raced down the stone stairs and through the opulent rooms to the gardens. Someone had stacked towels next to the loungers, and a pitcher of something sat on a tray with glasses under an umbrella. The staff at this villa were like ghosts. Things appeared seemingly like magic.

Cynthia and Jennifer tossed their shirts and shorts on the loungers and dove into the pool. When they came to the surface, they stared at each other and giggled like school girls.

“It’s so good to be away from Turner Hall,” Cynthia said with a sigh.

“How do you think Jonathan will take the news?”

“That I am not sure about. I’ll let you know tomorrow,” Cynthia said, cringing. “I hope he’ll be happy, and then we can finally marry.”

---