Page 49 of A Recipe for Love
‘Just helping out,’ Bella replied.
‘Lady Lowbridge! Bella!’ Anna and Hugh came over, clutching teacups and slices of cake. ‘It was a lovely service. And you’ve done him proud with this spread.’
‘Well that was down to Flinty.’
Bella was sure she saw Hugh’s jaw twitch. He turned towards her. ‘Maggie said you’d done a lot.’
‘Well I mostly did what I was told.’
He laughed. ‘Always the best approach with our Maggie.’
A silence settled over the group. Anna cleared her throat. ‘We miss seeing you in the village, Ver… Lady Lowbridge.’
Bella couldn’t help but feel that the apparently calm, still waters they were swimming through might be hiding dark dangers all of a sudden.
‘Everyone does,’ Anna continued. Did Veronica’s expression soften ever so slightly? ‘Don’t we Hugh?’
His jaw definitely twitched that time. ‘Well I’m sure you’re very busy.’
The silence hit again. This time Veronica broke it. ‘I heard that you’d extended your little shop into the garden.’
‘Not such a little shop any more. You should come and see. You can get all your essentials.’
Bella nodded in agreement.
‘I suppose I should. Flinty still stocks the larder though, and she knows what I like…’
‘I’m sure she does,’ Anna smiled.
Hugh took his wife’s arm. ‘Well we’d best be…’ His gaze flicked around the courtyard. ‘We need to talk to…’ He floundered again, before he gave up and simply led his wife away.
‘Don’t even give it heed,’ Veronica muttered.
Couldn’t if I wanted to, Bella thought. She was still trying to make sense of the conversation as the senior Lady Lowbridge stalked away.
‘Bella!’ She found herself enveloped in a vigorous, citrus-scented hug from the Reverend Jill, who had Dipper following along in her wake. The dog’s instincts for who might ‘accidentally’ drop half their canapés in her direction was utterly on point. ‘How are you doing?’
She looked around. On days like this her brain automatically went into hospitality mode. ‘I think we might need to refill the urn.’
‘I’m sure Nina and Maggie are on top of it.’
No doubt they were, but it went against the grain for Bella not to be helping out in some way.
‘How’s your chap doing?’
‘OK.’ Was he? ‘I think.’
‘It’s a lot of change for him. And losing your father, that can hit people hard. Men especially. They get all these ideas about having to step up and be the man of the house.’ Jill looked thoughtful for a second. ‘And your lad’s expected to be the man of the whole village, isn’t he?’
‘It’s all an adaptation I guess.’ But even as she said it something cool gripped her stomach. Adam was the laird. Obviously she knew that. But what did that actually mean? She’d been focused on getting to the funeral, getting through the funeral, and then what? ‘I might go and check in with him though.’
Across the courtyard, Adam was suffering from what could only be described as sympathy fatigue. He’d had his hand shaken, shoulder patted, and, from one elderly villager, cheek pinched like a podgy four-year-old. Everyone agreed that his father had been a thoroughly decent chap. Everyone agreed that it was a sad loss. Everyone agreed that it had been a lovely service. And everyone agreed that Adam was going to step into his dad’s shoes wonderfully. Everyone believed in him. Everyone had faith.
‘Lowbridge.’
He winced slightly at the rather formal greeting. That was the way some people still held things should be done. Saying Baron Lowbridge was simply not done. Laird was dangerously colloquial and imprecise. Heaven only knew what fate would befall one who ventured into first names. He nodded at the man approaching him. ‘McKenzie.’
‘Sorry about the old man. He was a decent chap.’ McKenzie shrugged a wax jacketed shoulder. ‘Bit behind the times maybe, but he meant well.’
