Page 23 of Coming Home to Roseford Villas
‘Amen to that,’ Stella said dryly. ‘But it only takes one editor to say yes.’
‘Quite right, my dear,’ Shona said. Rory listened to Stella and Shona talking about the business of writing for a few minutes in slightly awed silence. This was the world she was aching to be a part of, and listening to those who moved within it was an education. She leaned back in her chair and took another sip of her tea. There was something almost alchemical about listening to writers discussing their trade, and she hoped, one day, she’d be able to do the same. A writer she might be, she thought as she tried to brush away the encroaching imposter syndrome again, but she wasn’t even on the same page, let alone the same shelf as Stella and Shona.
Rory’s thoughts were interrupted as Leo ambled back into the room. She looked at him carrying a freshly brewed pot of tea on a tray, and thought how attractive he was, even in this rather odd setting.
‘And who might you be?’ Shona’s gaze had also come to rest on Leo, who’d largely made himself useful ferrying tea from Simon’s kitchen and making sure everyone’s plates and cupswere filled up. Rory knew that romantic fiction wasn’t really his thing, but his quiet, reassuring presence in the room stopped her from getting too nervous in front of Shona.
‘Just a friend of Rory’s,’ Leo replied.
Shona laughed. ‘Well, if Rory here just keeps you as a friend, you’re not working hard enough!’
Leo, flustered, gave a laugh. ‘I don’t know what to say to that.’ He beat a hasty retreat back to the kitchen, and Shona’s eyes, with that mischievous sparkle, came to rest on Rory again.
‘Tall, dark and handsome. And good with a teapot. He’s pure Mills and Boon material, that one,’ Shona said, giving Rory a wide smile. ‘Of course, that’s where I started out, back in the very early days…’
Shona was off again, regaling the small group with more tales of the workings of the publishing world. Rory listened, but this time she was somewhat off balance from Shona’s clear statement of the very obvious. Leowasgorgeous, and shewasreally attracted to him. Maybe she should stop dithering, throw caution to the winds and see where her bravery led her?
Eventually, thanking Shona for an entertaining morning, Leo and Rory made an exit into the sunny grounds of Roseford Hall.
‘So that’s what you aspire to, is it?’ Leo teased. ‘Can’t say I blame you. She’s had a hell of a life and she’s not afraid of speaking her mind, is she?’
Rory, feeling her face growing warm, wondered if Leo had heard what Shona had said about him. ‘She certainly isn’t,’ she replied. ‘Maybe, when you get to your eighties, that’s not a bad thing.’
‘Honesty is the best policy, eh?’ Leo’s eyes bore a teasing expression. ‘What is it that you honestly want, Aurora Henderson?’
‘At the moment, I’d be happy just to get my first novel written,’ Rory replied lightly, still not willing to be completelyhonest with Leo about how he was making her feel. Joking seemed so much easier, for now. ‘I think the champagne and caviar comes much later, if ever!’
Rory and Leo were approaching the ha-ha, which was a stone wall built into the bank that separated the manicured gardens of Roseford Hall from the broader sweep of lawn that sloped slightly upwards to the horizon. There were a couple of stone steps down to the grassy area, but Leo took a jump down the two-foot wall, and then, grinning, turned back to Rory.
‘May I assist you down, my lady?’ He bowed, then held out a hand for her to grab.
‘But of course, my lord,’ Rory replied, smiling. She took Leo’s proffered hand in her own, and made a small jump down, feeling herself drawn into Leo’s arms as she landed.
‘Well, hello,’ he said softly. ‘Fancy meeting you down here.’
Rory could feel the warmth from his body emanating towards her as she stood, happily encircled in his arms. There wasn’t much room between them, and as she drew a breath, she found herself moving even closer, so that their bodies were just about, and rather deliciously, touching. A fizz began in Rory’s abdomen, and she was shocked at just how powerful it felt.
‘Fancy,’ she murmured, looking upwards into Leo’s deep brown eyes, and, in pleasure, watching them widen. ‘And what brings you to this wonderful place on such a beautiful day?’
‘Oh, this and that,’ Leo teased. ‘What about you?’
Feeling happily reckless and heeding her own previous advice to throw caution to the wind, Rory lifted her chin, and placed a gentle, warm kiss on Leo’s lips. It felt like a first, but also achingly familiar as she felt the pressure of her own mouth returned, their lips discovering each other, and becoming reacquainted. She shivered as she felt one of Leo’s hands moving carefully upwards to tangle in her hair, and allowed herself, for a few moments, to become lost in those thrillingly familiarsensations. His mouth was warm, and tasted faintly of carrot cake, and she found herself wanting to deepen that kiss, and thinking of more passionate things she wanted to do with this incredibly gorgeous man.
‘Well,’ she said as they eventually broke apart. ‘That’s got the awkward first kiss over with. Where do you suggest we go from here?’
26
The answer to that question took them on a walk around Roseford Hall’s extensive and beautifully maintained grounds. The grounds were packed with people milling between the different events that RoseFest boasted, and the atmospheric vocals of a famous local folk singer drifted through the air as they meandered.
‘Simon’s done a great job, organising all this,’ Rory said as, hand clasped firmly in Leo’s, she tried to anchor herself, despite a persistent train of thought that was intent on carrying her away to more intimate places. ‘I can’t believe the festival’s only a couple of years old.’
‘Well, I think he’s had a lot of help with the logistics from Lizzie,’ Leo said. ‘It’s not so much “behind every great man” as “in front of him, reminding him there’s more to organising a festival than just making speeches”, from what I’ve heard!’
Rory cocked an intrigued eyebrow. ‘You say that with the knowledge of a true local!’
‘Aunt Vi has an ear for the social dynamics of the village—’ Leo grinned ‘—and she gave me a crash course on who was who before she and Uncle Bryan left.’ He paused, looking down atRory before brushing a loose strand of hair back from her face. ‘Of course, you don’t becometrulylocal in Somerset until you’ve lived here for at least twenty years.’
‘That leaves Simon and his family in the clear, then!’ Rory giggled. ‘I mean, I’ve heard the Treloars go back at least ten generations.’
