A Recipe for Love

Chapter Seven

Bella hadn’t been to very many funerals in her life. She’d been to one vigil on a beach for a guy she’d met in Mexico who’d died in a diving accident. She’d been to two services at the big crematorium behind the B&Q in Leeds. This one had significantly more tweed than any of those, and none of those memorials had been for people she was desperately close to. Neither was this – she’d never met Alexander Lowbridge – but somehow his death had changed her life.

In the past she’d always left remembrance ceremonies feeling like she had learned something more about the person being celebrated. She’d taken away a feeling of regret for a life ended but also joy for a person who had lived to the full. Alexander’s service felt impersonal by comparison. He’d been a good man, Jill had declared, and a conscientious laird who had taken his responsibilities seriously.

The turn-out, and the mutterings of agreement at her comments, seemed to bear that out, but for much of the service Alexander seemed strangely distant. Only when Adam took to his feet did Bella get a sense of the father he was grieving rather than the distant laird. Adam spoke about his father’s love of the land, of wildlife, of his garden. He spoke of a man who was happiest with his hands in the soil. He spoke of the way his father had taught him to find his own passion of planting and harvesting and laying out gardens that could bring joy to other families.

As he closed his eulogy, Adam swallowed deeply and inhaled hard, apparently fighting off tears. ‘I think it’s fair to say,’ he continued, ‘that I was never the most academically gifted child.’ There were a few affectionate laughs in the congregation, but Bella could see Veronica’s lips pursing in her peripheral vision.

‘And parts of school were really hard. Not the rugby and the tree-climbing, but the maths and the English. I honestly struggled to get through those.’ He looked up. ‘There are people here who had the misfortune to be amongst my teachers. I can only apologise.’ Another smattering of affectionate chuckles. ‘But my father believed that if you weren’t gifted in one area, that simply meant you needed to find your place and your passion somewhere else. He truly thought that everyone was the right fit for something. Ultimately, he was the right fit for Lowbridge. He loved this place and its people. He loved the landscape and the land itself. I only hope I can live up to the standards he set.’

Adam moved back to his place between Darcy and Bella in the front pew. Bella reached instinctively for his hand, but it was wrapped closed in a tight fist. She lay her hand over this and sent a silent prayer up into the cool chapel air that he would let her soothe him. After a second or two, he pulled his hand away.

They led the way out of the chapel and through to the courtyard, where Flinty had enlisted Nina’s help in laying out teas and coffees, along with huge platters of sandwiches, her own lemon drizzle cake and Bella’s millionaire’s shortbread. The day was bright and sunny, with a hint of sea breeze keeping things pleasant. Slowly, the conversation escalated from a restrained funereal whisper into a more relaxed babble of chatter. Bella moved from group to group, refreshing cups and clearing away empty plates.

At the centre of the largest group she heard Darcy laughing. She seemed to be on better form today, and company clearly suited her.

Bella picked up a cup and saucer that had been left on the cobbles next to a bench.

‘Flinty can do that, dear.’ Veronica was holding a single finger sandwich and looking slightly disdainfully at the gathered throng.

‘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.’

Adam bristled. His father definitely hadn’t been a moderniser, but nobody in Lowbridge seemed to mind that.

‘I don’t know if this is the time to mention this really, but…’

Adam felt a hand slip into his. He turned towards his fiancée. ‘Bella, let me introduce John McKenzie.’

She nodded. ‘McKenzie? Oh, do you own the next estate along?’

‘The one and same.’ Adam saw the delight at being recognised in Mr McKenzie’s eyes. ‘Which was just what we were discussing.’

‘Was it?’

‘Well in a sense. I don’t want to talk business now, but I assume your father had talked to you about our plans.’

Adam knew his face was blank. He also knew that if Ravi were here he’d be whispering urgently in his ear about the importance of keeping a poker face in negotiations. Never let the other person know you are swimming out of your depth. Which was exactly why Adam and Ravi were such a good team. Ravi understood this stuff. Adam understood which plants would thrive in shade. ‘Not in any detail,’ he ventured.

‘Well in short I made him an offer to buy.’

‘To buy what?’

‘Lowbridge, of course.’

What? Had his father been considering it?

‘Given his health, it seemed like a good option all around. And, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you about the inheritance tax you’ve got coming up.’

Actually, he sort of did. Adam’s grandmother had definitely mentioned taxes, but it was another of the million things she’d talked at him about and tried to make him concentrate on. It was another column of confusion. ‘Anyway, the offer’s still on the table.’

Adam was still scrabbling to keep up. ‘For the whole estate.’

‘Well I can take or leave the house itself.’ McKenzie shook his head. ‘The repairs and maintenance on my own place are killing me, and that’s a new build compared to this old thing.’ He laughed loudly at his own humour. ‘Not that I’d turn it down. Guests’ll pay a premium to stay in a proper baronial castle. It’s the land I really want though.’

‘All of it?’

‘Aye. That’s what I offered your father for.’

‘And my son made quite clear that Lowbridge was not for sale.’ Veronica’s voice was imperious as she bore down on the group.

‘Lady Lowbridge!’ McKenzie smiled broadly. ‘Always a pleasure.’

Adam’s grandmother didn’t reply.

‘I’m not sure your son was quite that definitive.’

‘Then allow me to be. Lowbridge is not for sale.’

McKenzie stepped away and then leaned back to shake Adam’s hand. ‘Well, the offer’s there if the new laird takes a different view.’

Adam watched Mr McKenzie walk away. Selling Lowbridge. It was, as his grandmother had made absolutely clear, unthinkable, and yet now it had been said out loud it was going to be all he could think about.

‘That chancer after your family silver, Lowbridge?’

Adam turned towards the voice. ‘Macwillis.’ Bella squeezed his hand a notch tighter. ‘Sir Iain, let me introduce my fiancée, Bella Smith.’

‘Bella!’ Macwillis bellowed her name, as Adam knew from experience, he bellowed everything. ‘Knew a Bella once. Not biblically. Married a steam engine enthusiast from Hastings.’

Bella nodded. ‘I don’t know her.’

‘No.’ Macwillis nodded. ‘Don’t suppose you would.’ He turned back to Adam. ‘McKenzie after your place as well?’

‘So it seems.’

‘Pah. The MacCellans ended up not having much choice. Terrified of the inheritance taxes landing on his daughter I think. Some of us cling on though.’

Adam suspected Sir Iain Macwillis, hereditary chieftain of the Clan Macwillis and current owner of most of Skye and a good sliver of the smaller isles as well, was doing rather more than clinging on. ‘It was good of you to come today.’

‘Well I liked your old man. And I thought someone should. There’s not so many of us around now. Did you hear that the McCullens’ new chief lives in Seattle of all places. Runs some company designing, what do you call it? Things for phones.’

‘Apps,’ Adam suggested.

‘That’s the badger!’ Macwillis nodded cheerfully. ‘Good to have you here though. Good to see the next generation keeping the place alive. You’re a good man, Lowbridge.’