Page 16 of A Recipe for Love
‘Darcy? Yes. I think she will want to be involved in the funeral arrangements.’
‘Whatever you think. I’m sure you’re more than capable.’
Adam sucked back whatever response he might have wanted to offer. ‘It’s not only up to me though is it?’
Veronica gave him a look of sharp consternation. ‘You’re the laird. Things are generally very much up to you.’
Chapter Three
Bella didn’t really consider herself a ‘going for a walk’ type of girl, but there didn’t seem to be much else for her to do. Flinty had assured her it would make her feel better, which was sweet, apart from the fact that Bella hadn’t previously been aware she was feeling bad.
She went hunting for a bathroom before she set out. Given the size of the castle, she reckoned, there must be loads. Bella started in the hallway, ignoring the door she already knew to be the dining room. First door, first sitting room, decorated in slightly concerning shades of dark green with yet another poor deceased deer’s head above the fireplace. Second door, second sitting room – decorated in yellow this time. Third room, third sitting room, painted in a slightly more restful shade of pale blue. No bathrooms.
The next part of the corridor was lined with portraits of, presumably, past lairds and ladies. Bella tried the handle of the odd little door alongside her. Odd, because unlike the rest of the doorways, this was cut out of the wall itself and closed flush with no frame to mark it out. A casual glance could miss its existence all together. Bella tiptoed through and found herself in a plain stone stairwell.
She set off up the stairs, and came out of a very similar door on the first floor. The upstairs version of the long gallery was an open balcony looking down into the room that ran alongside. Bella leaned over to take a look and gasped. It was dusty, and there were stacks of plastic chairs in one corner that gave the feel of a deserted primary school gym, but what she was looking down into remained, unmistakeably, a ballroom. An actual ballroom. The fullBridgertonfancy dress, string quartet, deal.
‘What are you doing up here?’ Flinty bustled along to her, arms full of bed linen.
‘You’ve got a ballroom.’
‘You’vegot a ballroom,’ Flinty corrected.
Bella shook her head. ‘I was looking for the toilet.’
‘There’s one down there.’ Flinty pointed behind her. ‘Next to the top of the stairs. You must have come past it.’
‘I came up here.’ Bella tapped the weird little door in the wall.
‘Oh, Veronica won’t like that. Family don’t use the back stairs.’
‘What?’
Flinty nodded. ‘I mean really nobody uses the back stairs. They’re very steep and damn cold. But especially not family.’
‘I’m not sure she sees me as family.’
Flinty didn’t deny it. ‘She’ll come round.’
Bella followed Flinty’s directions to the bathroom, went to the loo, washed her hands and turned off the tap. Which promptly came back on again. Bella turned it off. It came on again. Off again. This time she stood and watched as the tap turned over so slowly and apparently entirely on its own. So was this the tap Darcy had been trying to get fixed? Bella would not be defeated by plumbing. She turned the tap a fourth time, twisting as tight and hard as she could. The tap stayed off. She allowed herself a small smile of triumph before she turned away. She was barely through the door before the sound of the trickle of water reached her. She turned the tap a final time and marched away before the damn thing had a chance to start up again.
If Bella was going to go for a walk she would need better shoes than the clogs she’d made do with for breakfast. The choices weren’t great. Apart from her chef’s clogs she had flip flops and a pair of canvas sneakers with a hole in the toe. Sneakers would have to do. The walk from the kitchen back to the coach house had told her that it was a slightly cool, but thankfully dry, morning. She pulled a jumper over her T-shirt and set out.
Their journey last night had all been in darkness, so she was slightly surprised to realise that the castle was built on an outcrop that jutted out into what? She could see more land directly opposite them but the water moved and dashed around the foot of the castle hill like the tide was rushing in. Were they on some kind of bay? Whatever. On three sides of her there was water, so Bella, for lack of other choices, started her walk in the fourth direction, along a long cobbled single-track road that connected the castle hill to the mainland.
Flinty had told her to take a walk around the estate, but what did that event mean? Bella had grown up on an estate, rows and rows of identical brown little houses and low blocks of flats, with leaky windows and electrics that fused if you looked at them funny set around a communal ‘garden’ that was littered with shit and syringes. This estate wasn’t going to be like that, was it?
She continued down the road to the mainland. The street, now a properly tarmacked – if somewhat potholed – road, continued up the side of an inlet that flowed from the… Bella was going to say ‘sea’ for now. On the other side was an initially flattish deep green field, that then rapidly rose up a hillside. Everything around her felt big. Big sea. Great towering hills. Spectacular deep grey sky. It was the sort of scenery that hit you in the face with how small you were. Bella focused on the white spots of sheep scattered across the hill, reminding her that she wasn’t quite alone. She’d never had much to do with sheep. Lamb, she knew about. Paired classically with mint, but in her mind perfect with more North African flavours. Her mouth watered slightly as she mentally put together a tagine with apricots, cumin, coriander and a dash of cinnamon. Lamb she was good with. Actual sheep, not so much. She rejected the wilds of the field and set off up the road instead.
She’d barely made it ten yards before the sound of a vehicle coming down towards her made her step to the side of the road. The car in question was a brand new looking four by four which screeched to a halt alongside her. The driver’s window slid down and Bella was faced with a mass of bleached blonde curls. ‘Are you from the castle, pet?’
‘No.’ Was she? ‘Sort of. I guess.’
‘Brilliant. Quite exciting isn’t it? A summons to the big house.’ The bouncy cheer-filled voice paused. ‘I mean not exciting. Not in the circumstances. No. Sorry. Were you close to the laird?’
Bella shook her head. ‘I never met him. I’m…’ She was what? ‘I’m his son’s…’ Come on woman. Pin your colours to the mast. ‘I’m his son’s fiancée.’
The mass of curls frowned. ‘But you’d never met his dad?’
