Chapter Nine
James
J ames gripped his golf club, staring down the fairway. Saturday mornings on the golf course were something of a ritual. Usually, he enjoyed it, but his insides were antsy, plus his muscles ached from all the riding. Even with that though, he’d much rather be at the stables, continuing his lessons. Dropping golf, however, might look suspicious. And keeping up appearances was important.
He lined up his shot, then took a swing, sending the ball arcing through the air. It wasn’t exactly his best shot. These movements were so different compared to the ones he’d been practising on Conker, and his body was protesting.
His friend Matthew clapped him on the back as he stepped off the tee, and James winced involuntarily. ‘You ok?’
‘Yeah. All good.’ James stepped aside to let Matthew take his shot. He couldn’t exactly confess to why he was walking like John Wayne and barely able to pick up a club, let alone swing it. ‘How’s everything at home? Still chaotic with the baby?’
Matthew smiled as he took his stance. ‘That’s an understatement. But it’s great. I love watching her grow and learning new things. She’s walking now.’
‘Already?’
‘Yeah, she had her first birthday a couple of weeks ago.’
‘You’re kidding? That’s gone so fast.’
‘Yeah, tell me about it.’
James had met Matthew a few years back when they’d been paired together in a fourballs competition for the club championship. Matthew was older, but his life seemed so settled – and normal. James felt the usual pang of inadequacy.
He watched Matthew’s ball soar. ‘Nice one.’
‘Thanks.’ Matthew stifled a yawn.
‘Is the little one keeping you up all night?’
‘She’s not too bad at going down and she only wakes occasionally, but she likes her early rises.’
‘Oh dear.’ James could relate. He might not have a baby, but his alarm going off at five thirty was bad enough. Still, it was the best way to cram in the riding lessons.
‘Yeah. But it’s worth it. She’s a sweetheart, and so like Nina. Peas in a pod, those two.’
‘Nice.’ He couldn’t imagine feeling that way about someone. So far, he’d failed miserably in making a deep connection with anyone. Instead, he was fixated on riding lessons to impress a woman he’d never met. What if all this effort was for nothing? Well, at least the experience itself was enjoyable – mostly. He could do without the muscle ache.
They reached their golf balls, and James lined up his next shot. It landed just short of the green. ‘Didn’t Nina want to play today too?’ he asked, remembering she was a very good golfer.
‘She didn’t mind, but I’m sure she’ll come another day.’ Matthew stepped up to his ball and placed the club behind it. ‘She’s taking Maeve to a party today, which will be right up her street. She likes all the gossip. And she’s such a great mum, so patient and loving. I’m always in awe of her.’ He cracked his ball onto the green.
‘Sounds like you hit the jackpot.’ Unlike me.
‘Yeah, I did.’ Matthew shoved his club into his bag. ‘But enough about me. What’s new with you?’
‘Not much.’ James shook his head, keeping his face boardroom straight. ‘Just… you know, the usual. Work and stuff.’
Matthew gave him a searching look. ‘Is everything ok?’
‘Yeah, just busy.’ James waved his hand airily and smiled. ‘Got a lot on my plate.’
‘Duchan Fayre must be quite a place to manage.’
‘It really is.’ Though it was a shitload easier than his private life.
They reached the green, and James focused on his putt, trying to stop his mind from wandering onto uncertain routes, especially ones that looked like the bridle path near Glenvorneth. But as he lined up his shot, Dagmar trotted to the forefront of his mind on Zephyra. What the hell was it with her? Why couldn’t he rid her from his brain?
Golf with Matthew took James until lunchtime. He didn’t have time to hang about afterwards as he was dining with his parents. Living in a wing of their house meant he could dine with them every day if he wanted, but he preferred not to, and his mum made such a big fuss about meals when he joined them. He knew better than to turn up in his golf clothes, so he went back and changed into a shirt and jeans before making his way into the main part of the house.
Their mansion had been custom-built in the same style as Duchan Fayre, smoothly rendered and painted white on the outside with a sandstone trim. On one side was a large round tower that housed the main living area on the ground floor and his parents’ bedroom on the first. The gardens were all neatly landscaped and kept very tidy, with rolling green lawns and well-tended flower beds. The view across the loch was exceptional, and Sherri liked to host corporate parties on the lawn with a marquee.
‘Hello darling.’ She greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks. ‘I’ve set up lunch on the terrace today as it’s so warm. Come on out. Dad’s already waiting.’
James followed his mother out to the terrace. The scent of freshly cut grass filled his nostrils, reminding him of simpler days when they lived in a normal house on the edge of Perth. His parents were ambitious though and had built themselves a mini empire that had been more successful than either of them could have imagined when they started it up.
Laurence was already seated at the table, sipping on a glass of iced tea.
‘Afternoon, Dad.’ James took his seat.
‘James,’ Laurence nodded. ‘Good game?’
‘Not bad.’
Sherri fussed around, making sure everything was perfect. She finally sat down and beamed at him. ‘I’ve got some news, James. You’ll love it.’
‘Do tell.’
‘Guess who I met the other day?’
His mum knew so many people it could literally be anyone. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’
‘The countess of Dairvin.’
James raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh?’
‘Yes, and we had a lovely chat. All about Lady Victoria.’ She pulled a wide-eyed smile. ‘I let her know that you love riding.’ She winked.
James’s stomach dropped, and he gaped at her. ‘You did what?’
‘Don’t worry.’ Sherri took a sip of wine. ‘It did the trick. Wouldn’t you know, the countess went back and told her daughter, Lady Victoria? Apparently, she is very keen to meet you for a ride.’
‘Right.’ James chewed his tongue.
Laurence looked at him over the rim of his glass. ‘What’s the matter, son? You look like you’ve swallowed a wasp.’
‘You do know I can’t actually ride yet.’ James looked between the two of them.
‘Aren’t you taking lessons?’ Laurence frowned, then glanced at his wife.
‘Yes, but I’ve only had a few. I’m hardly a skilled rider.’
‘I know what you’re like.’ Sherri waved her hand dismissively. ‘Once you get the bit between your teeth – excuse my bad pun – there’s no stopping you. By the time you meet Victoria, you’ll look like a natural, and I just know she’ll be charmed by you.’
James clenched his jaw, biting back everything that was going through his mind. ‘When is this meeting supposed to happen?’
‘Oh, soon, I’d imagine.’ Sherri nibbled her cucumber sandwich. ‘The countess is very eager. She thinks you and Lady Victoria would get along famously and I quite agree.’
James forced a smile, though his insides were burning. He wasn’t even close to being ready for a ride with Lady Victoria. The basics were hard enough, and he had no idea how he’d manage to fake his way through anything more advanced than jogging up and down a field.
‘Let’s hope.’ He lifted a sandwich.
‘Isn’t this exciting?’ Sherri clapped, her eyes sparkling.
Laurence leaned back in his chair, studying his son. ‘You’ll manage,’ he said. ‘You’re a quick learner and I have every faith in you.’
‘Thanks.’ Shame James didn’t share their sentiments. Neither of them had any idea just how difficult riding a horse actually was. He might have to increase his lessons. That or hope for a miracle. One thing was certain, he couldn’t afford to make a fool of himself in front of Lady Victoria. It wasn’t just the connection to her that mattered, but his family wanted the connection with the Earl and Countess of Dairvin. Messing that up would put them all in an awkward place going forward.
Sherri continued chatting about the countess and her daughter, but James could barely focus. He nodded and smiled at the right moments, his mind a hive of worry. As soon as lunch was done, he was going back to the stables. Maybe he should just go live there for a while, at least until he looked vaguely competent on horseback.
As the meal wound down, James excused himself. ‘Thanks for this, Mum.’ He stood up and kissed his mother on the cheek. ‘I need to go make some calls.’
‘Alright, darling.’ She patted his hand.
‘Bye, Dad.’
Laurence gave him a wave as James headed back inside. Once he was out of sight, he let out a deep breath. He had his work cut out for him, and he didn’t want to waste a moment.
He drove back to the stables, his mind racing almost as fast as the car. He should probably slow down, but this was an emergency. Putting his foot down, he whizzed along the lochside until he reached the main gates of the Glenvorneth Estate. He pulled in and took the track to the stables. The car park was full of cars. Riders were out on the bridle path and a few people were in the outdoor arena. Brann’s daughter, the volunteer girl, was leading a horse across the yard, followed by a woman with bright red hair. James had seen that woman talking to Dagmar the first day he came here. Was she the girl’s mum? Brann must have eclectic taste if he’d gone from her to Ophelia. James couldn’t imagine two more different people. But who was he to judge?
He made his way through people and horses, scanning the area, hoping to spot Dagmar, but she was nowhere to be seen.
‘Excuse me.’ He caught up with Brann’s daughter. ‘Have you seen Dagmar?’
‘Yeah, she went back to her trailer to have a shower. One of the horses had a bit of a dodgy tum and she kind of got covered.’
‘Oh.’ James covered his mouth, not wanting to imagine. Every vision he’d had of riding being an elegant pastime was being busted one by one.
‘Poor girl,’ the red-haired woman said. ‘She could do with a break.’
‘You’re not wrong, and thanks.’ James started walking around the top paddock towards the bridle path. Sadly, she wasn’t going to get a break from him. The opposite, unfortunately. He needed her. His gaze wandered across the paddocks to the trailer at the bottom of the hill. Did she live there permanently? He’d assumed she either lived with her mum or had a house and only used the trailer to move the horses about and live in when she was travelling to shows, but come to think on it, he’d only ever seen her coming from there and it looked almost like a permanent fixture.
Making his way to the path, he opened the gate and continued down the hill. Finally, he reached the trailer. He’d never gone right up to it before. Should he knock or call out? He paused outside the door, then knocked, but there was no answer. He knocked again, louder this time.
‘Dagmar? Are you in there?’ Nothing. He ran a hand through his hair. Brann’s daughter had said she’d gone to take a shower. Did this thing have a shower? It looked spacious, but wait, was this a door for horses? Maybe it had a different section for people. He marched around and found another door on the side. Close to it were two little cubicles like portaloos. Was one of them a shower? Surely to god she didn’t use that day in, day out? No one should have to do that. Did Ophelia think that was ok? Or maybe it was Dagmar’s choice, though he wasn’t sure why anyone would choose that.
Before he could ponder any more, one of the cubicle doors opened and Dagmar emerged in nothing but a towel and a pair of flipflops. The hair she usually had plaited hung wet over her shoulders, dripping onto the grass.
‘What the hell?’ She gaped at James, clinging to the towel around her.
Being in front of the door, he was clearly blocking her way, but he’d temporarily frozen. ‘Um… Hey.’
‘What are you doing?’ Her eyebrows knitted together. ‘And can you let me in to get dressed?’
‘Oh, sure.’ He stepped aside, but he couldn’t take his eyes from her. As she got closer, he caught the scent of strawberry shampoo and something else delicate and floral. Like a fresh garden in spring. ‘I need to talk to you though.’
‘It’ll have to wait.’ She reached up to open the door.
‘Well, yeah. Obviously.’
The towel wasn’t really big enough and, as she stretched, it opened, revealing her tight tummy. He briefly glanced at it, then lower, to a place he knew he shouldn’t be looking, and he quickly averted his eyes.
Dagmar seemed to be having trouble with the door.
‘Can I help?’ he asked.
‘I doubt it. It’s just this door.’ She rattled the handle. ‘It jams at the worst possible times.’
‘Here. Let me.’ He reached up and his hand caught hers before he captured the handle. His insides ignited at the contact, not to mention the proximity of her bare body. A primal urge to wrap her in his own clothes and pull her close roared through him. His groin twitched at the thought and he steadied his breath, clutching the handle and turning it firmly. ‘There you go.’
‘Thanks,’ she muttered.
‘Oh… You’ve got…’
She glared at him.
‘A ladybird on your shoulder.’ He put his thumb out and gently flicked it away. Dagmar froze like she’d turned to stone. Was she feeling the same way he was? He’d often tried to kid himself he didn’t find her attractive, but he wasn’t fooling anyone now.
She shivered a little, then climbed into the trailer and closed the door, leaving James alone with his messed up, completely wild thoughts.