Chapter Fifteen
James
J ames adjusted his tie, trying to steady his nerves as he and his parents walked through the grounds of Dairvin Castle. Hundreds of spectators, riders, horses, and food trailers had converged on the sedate gardens he’d seen a few weeks ago. This event was a lot bigger than he’d made it in his head. By the side of one of the large fields were small grandstands and marquees.
‘Looking sharp, son.’ Laurence clapped him on the shoulder. ‘What woman could resist?’
James restrained his eye roll. Plenty had so far, but the first meeting with Victoria had gone well and hopefully he could build on that. Or so he kept telling himself, because his heart seemed to have other ideas. It ached away constantly in his chest and the only times it seemed to feel ok was when he was with Dagmar. He’d developed a fixation with her. Maybe it was the forbidden nature of it that drew him, because whichever way he swung it, he couldn’t be with her. His destiny lay along a different path; he’d promised his father he’d do whatever he could to marry into a family with a name and a legacy. Victoria might be the best chance he ever got. And, really, did Dagmar even want him anyway? The way she recoiled every time he got close told him she would never forgive him for his childhood sins.
‘This is wonderfully laid out.’ Sherri looked around. ‘We should sponsor it next time. I’d love to see Duchan Fayre banners around the arena.’
‘Cool, great idea, Mum.’ James patted her on the back. Just a quick glance around showed several people who would love Duchan’s country clothing range and probably spend a packet in the restaurant while they decided which pieces to buy.
James and his parents made their way through the crowd, James fidgeting with his cuffs. May was a warm month in Scotland and the sun was beating down, which made his suit feel too hot and stifling. The grandstand loomed ahead; it was nothing like the size of the ones at the Open Golf Championship – which he often attended with his golf club friends – but was still quite something. Alongside it was a smaller stand, covered over and decorated with flowers, bunting and drapes. So ostentatious. That must be the earl’s box. It was like something from Royal Ascot or Wimbledon.
‘Do we just go up?’ Sherri tugged at the neckline of her bright pink top.
‘I think so.’ Laurence headed for the steps. ‘They invited us, and we have tickets. I see someone at the gate.’ He marched forward and a woman in a hi-vis vest checked his tickets, then opened the gate to the steps.
Laurence went first, almost running. Was he that eager? James wasn’t. He followed with his mum. Now he was here, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to be. This would be another tedious afternoon of questions, his parents trying to big him up in the eyes of the earl and countess, and him attempting to make small talk with Victoria. Somehow that small talk was supposed to lead to more, but the steps in between weren’t clear. It was hard when he wasn’t feeling it. This was what had happened with Genevieve, his ex. They’d felt nothing for each other, but they’d both been in the same predicament, so faking it for a while had worked well. Faking anything with Victoria, however, was not going to work – because he needed this for the long term.
The earl and the countess sat leaning forward, watching a rider. Victoria, dressed in her riding jacket, stood at the railing staring at the field. James followed her sightline, and his eyes landed on the horse and rider in the arena. Dagmar. She’d rolled up her long plait, and it was coiled into a hairnet, but it was still so obviously her. She flew over jumps like the pro she clearly was. He’d seen people do this kind of thing on TV, but seeing it live was different. His heart stopped. Jesus Christ, she could ride. Of course, he knew that, but with her perfect poise and control, she looked incredible. His father stopped to watch too and for a few moments, everyone’s eyes were pinned on her as she completed a flawless round. Wow.
Spectators clapped as she left the arena, and James joined in – though slower and less enthusiastically than he should have – because his eyes were still on the now-empty arena, and his mind was struggling to process what an incredible sight he’d just witnessed.
‘Ah, hello. You made it.’ The countess got to her feet and James flicked his focus to her. ‘Wonderful to see you. You came just at the right time. That was Dagmar Ingenfeld. She’s a brilliant rider, and she’s Victoria’s main rival this year, but I think she’s had her day.’ With a little frown, the countess seemed to weigh her own words. ‘Then again, that ride was pretty special, so Victoria will have to do very well indeed.’
Victoria smiled coyly at James, apparently not paying any attention to her mother. ‘Nice to see you all.’
James returned her smile, though his jaw was working very hard to do so. ‘Hi.’
‘When are you riding?’ Sherri asked. ‘I’m glad we didn’t miss it.’
‘Oh, there are several people before me.’ Victoria waved an airy hand. ‘I probably should go and start warming up though.’
‘Do that,’ the countess said with a pointed look. ‘We’ll entertain our guests until you get back. And make sure you do your best.’
‘Of course.’ She left the box with a little wave.
‘Sit, please,’ the earl commanded.
‘I can’t wait to see Victoria riding.’ Sherri sat herself down next to the countess. ‘She must be fantastic. I’m sure she’s better than the other girl.’
‘I don’t know.’ The countess let out a sigh. ‘Dagmar has been doing this a long time. Too long, if you ask me. It’s time she stepped aside and let other people have a chance. She turns up at these events every year and goes home with all the prizes.’ She leaned in. ‘Between you and me, she’s a bit of an oddity. Rather obsessed with the horses. To the point where it’s got ridiculous. She must be about thirty now. I’m sure she’s around the same age as Ophelia Chattan-Blythe. You’d think she’d have moved on, had a family, that kind of thing, instead of obsessing over competitions she’s already won several times.’
James balled his fists. This woman was a piece of work. He’d never warmed to her, despite the way his mother idolised her. Who was she to criticise Dagmar like that? And what jealousy! The only reason she wanted Dagmar to step aside was so that Victoria would win. Well, sure, James had to support Victoria in public, but inside he was rooting for Dagmar every step of the way.
‘Some people are very dedicated to what they do. Age shouldn’t be a barrier.’ James forced a smile at the countess. ‘If she’s still fit and healthy, why shouldn’t she keep riding as much as she likes? If she wins everything, then kudos to her.’
The countess raised an eyebrow, and a little smirk played at the corner of her lips. ‘Quite right, I’m sure.’
His parents gaped at him, but he didn’t make eye contact.
‘The weather is perfect for the trials today,’ the earl remarked. ‘Such a glorious day, not even a hint of rain.’
‘Ideal,’ Laurence agreed.
‘How is everything at Duchan Fayre?’ the countess asked Sherri. ‘I so adore a visit.’
‘Very good, thank you so much.’ Sherri beamed, looking relieved that the countess hadn’t taken offence at James’s words, but the woman shouldn’t be badmouthing anyone like that – especially Dagmar. Not in front of him. ‘We’re thinking of sponsoring next year’s event. James can talk to you about it at another time.’
‘That would be splendid.’ The countess’s focus remained on the arena. ‘Sounds like a partnership made in heaven.’
James winced. Was that meant to be symbolic of something else?
When Victoria and her horse finally entered the arena after what seemed like hours of small talk, the countess leaned forward, clenching her fists. ‘Go on, dear. Show them what you can do.’
The crowd fell silent, all eyes on Victoria. She started her course, looking every bit as good as Dagmar. James’s pulse increased. Don’t let her win.
‘She’s quite something,’ Laurence whispered to James. ‘We’re lucky to be here.’
James nodded, his eyes on Victoria but his mind with Dagmar. Just make a mistake. Clip a fence, nothing too serious. Just something to keep Dagmar ahead.
But Victoria’s ride was flawless. She moved over the obstacles with ease, her horse responding perfectly to her commands, each jump executed with precision. The crowd began to cheer.
‘Come on, Victoria!’ Sherri called out, clapping enthusiastically.
A knot formed in James’s stomach. As Victoria approached the final jump, his heart pounded. She cleared it effortlessly, and the crowd erupted in applause.
‘Brilliant, simply brilliant.’ The earl got to his feet, clapping.
James ground his teeth. The timing was close. Too close. But Dagmar was still ahead. Just. It was by a fraction of a second, but still a win.
The countess’s smile faltered, a flicker of irritation flashing in her eyes. ‘Well, it seems Dagmar still has her edge.’
‘That was very close.’ Sherri shook her head. ‘Victoria was amazing. I’m sure she’ll win next time.’
‘Of course.’ The countess pinched her lips together. ‘There’s always next time.’
James exhaled, attempting to look gutted on Victoria’s behalf, but his insides were bouncing up and down, cheering for Dagmar.
The earl left the box to present the rosettes. Sherri and the countess leaned forward, eyes sparkling, putting their heads together and chatting like old friends.
The announcer called third place, and the earl handed a rosette to a freckly young girl with ginger hair.
‘And in second place,’ the announcer’s voice rang out, ‘we have Lady Victoria Bruce.’
The countess and Sherri erupted in cheers, their applause louder than anyone else’s. Victoria gave a small wave, her eyes fell on James and, although she looked disappointed, she gave him a broad smile. He reached his hands forward and clapped her… Well, it wouldn’t do to not look like he was supporting her, even if his heart wasn’t in it. He watched as the earl moved to the first-place podium.
‘And our winner,’ the announcer said, ‘with a remarkable performance, is Dagmar Ingenfeld.’
The countess and Sherri’s applause slowed to a deliberate, tepid clap. James frowned at them; their lack of enthusiasm was so blatantly rude. He glanced back at the arena and rolled his eyes, suddenly aware Dagmar was looking at him. Hopefully she didn’t think he was rolling his eyes at her. He clapped as she stepped forward to accept the rosette from the earl, but she wasn’t looking anymore. Her smile was vague, her eyes a little watery. James saw the sadness behind her polite expression. Poor Dagmar. She wasn’t stupid. How obvious was it that the majority of the support was for Victoria?
He swallowed hard, wishing he could reach out to her, but that wasn’t possible. He’d be stuck here for the rest of the day with Victoria. Possibly for the rest of his life.
Victoria returned to the box, her head dropping a little.
‘Oh, darling, you were brilliant!’ the countess exclaimed, jumping up and patting Victoria’s shoulder.
‘Absolutely,’ Sherri agreed. ‘Second place is fantastic. You were so close!’
Victoria nodded, her eyes flitting to James. ‘Thanks, everyone. It’s just frustrating to come so close.’ She threw her hands up and waggled her fingers dramatically. ‘That Dagmar is just so… so damn good. Which is truly irritating.’
‘You did wonderfully,’ Laurence said. ‘The other woman just has more experience from what your mother tells us.’
‘Oh god, yes. She’s got experience because she’s devoted her life to this and nothing else. If I had the time, I’m sure I’d love to do that. She literally lives and breathes horses. I’m not quite so obsessive.’ She slid into the seat next to James.
‘Maybe, but you can’t have it both ways.’ He raised an eyebrow and gave her his most charming smile. ‘If obsessing over horses and getting better isn’t worth the sacrifice, that’s a choice. But you can’t dis someone else winning if it’s theirs and they’ve made it work for them.’
Victoria nodded, apparently chewing her tongue, but she looked almost impressed that he’d disagreed with her.
‘Oh, totally. And maybe I’m guilty for not putting in enough hours, but I’ve got interests outside of horses, thank goodness.’ She rested a hand on his arm, her fingers lightly brushing his sleeve. ‘Just as well, huh?’ She gave him a cheeky little smirk.
What meaning did she want him to take from that? He couldn’t be certain, but he interpreted it as her suggesting she enjoyed fooling around with guys, whereas Dagmar didn’t. Was that her point? That Dagmar was so focused on horses she’d given up on relationships? She was a closed-off person, but surely someone had penetrated those walls at some point. Or was she celibate, fully devoted to her work?
Her choice, of course.
He shifted slightly. Victoria still had his hand on his arm. ‘You did well. It was a tough competition, and the timings were very close.’ The words came out with practised monotony but were a reminder of how lucky things had turned out – for Dagmar. She’d won by such a fine line. He hated to think how Victoria would crow if she’d been that fraction of a second quicker. Jesus, if he wanted a relationship with this woman, he’d have to learn to hope for just that. But all he could think about was Dagmar. As always.
The countess and Sherri exchanged a smile, and James tried to mirror it.
‘Let’s take some tea,’ the countess said. ‘That’ll cheer us up.’
‘Yes, absolutely,’ Sherri added. ‘Next year will be the year. I’m hoping for many exciting events next year.’
Victoria giggled and gave James a little wink. ‘They’re funny, aren’t they?’
‘Oh… Very.’
After they’d had tea and a selection of mini cakes, James, Victoria, Sherri, and the countess left the box for a stroll around the grounds. The countess pointed out various sites to Sherri, while Victoria took James’s arm. James kept his smile in place, trying to ignore the way his stomach curdled at the touch.
‘Such a lovely day.’ Sherri glanced around.
‘Indeed,’ the countess agreed. ‘And there’s Ophelia. Let me speak to her. She’s a lovely girl.’
James pulled in a slow, steady breath. Great, just what he needed.
Ophelia looked as immaculate as ever, smiling and laughing with Brann, who always looked like some kind of warrior tugged into modern times. He was dressed in his kilt and a tight t-shirt that showed off his muscly frame. His arm was looped over Ophelia’s shoulder, and while they were a couple you probably wouldn’t put together, they were clearly perfect for each other. James didn’t feel jealous of Brann, but he was envious of his and Ophelia’s situation. They’d found the all-consuming love James couldn’t even come close to.
‘Ophelia!’ the countess called. Ophelia’s head whipped around, and she waved, then flicked her long golden hair over her shoulder. ‘And I see we have the notorious builder who stole you away.’ The countess winked at Brann.
‘Yup, that’s me.’ He threw out his hand and pulled a sorry-not-sorry face.
James caught his eye. Yeah. It was me you stole her away from. Not that he was complaining. He’d never been right for Ophelia and once Brann had arrived on the scene, she couldn’t look at anyone else. Something tugged at his insides, an unsettled feeling that the same thing was happening to him.
Ophelia’s circumstances were different however… Weren’t they?
Brann extended his hand to James. ‘Good to see you.’
James shook his hand. ‘You too.’
Victoria leaned in closer, clearly staking her claim. ‘Nice to meet you, Brann,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘All good, I hope.’ Brann grinned.
‘Absolutely not. You’re completely scandalous from what I hear,’ Victoria replied, and everyone laughed.
‘Well, he much prefers being a bad boy.’ Ophelia patted his arm. ‘Even though he isn’t at all.’ She raised her eyebrow at him, and he winked.
‘Aren’t you competing?’ James asked her.
‘Not this time. I very rarely do these days. I’m simply not good enough.’
‘You competed at the highland games last year.’
‘I thought it would be moderately more amusing than… Well, other options.’
James guessed she probably meant more amusing than spending the day with her father and her stepmother, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that she maybe meant him.
‘But I was terrible,’ she went on. ‘So, I’m not bothering this time.’
‘You weren’t terrible.’ Brann leaned in and kissed her forehead. ‘You just set yourself ridiculously high standards.’
Victoria pressed her lips together as she watched them, then glanced at James. If she thought he was going to kiss her like that out here, she had another think coming.
‘Don’t mention Dagmar.’ The countess held up her hand. ‘She’s already done Victoria out of first place in the showjumping.’
‘She is a very good rider,’ Ophelia said. ‘She always has been. I think she’s wasted with us. She could have done this internationally.’
‘Not everyone has that kind of ambition,’ James said. ‘But she is very good.’
‘Oh totally.’ Ophelia glanced at him, and he remembered with a stab that Ophelia knew he and Dagmar were doing lessons together. Please god, do not mention that.
‘Well, she’s left it too late to do that,’ the countess said. ‘And her time winning the local competitions is coming to an end too. I feel rather sorry for her, because without the competitions, what does she really have in her life?’
‘A very good job at Glenvorneth.’ Ophelia eyed the countess, and James felt a rush of respect for her. Ophelia could be snooty and headstrong at times, but she didn’t take shit from anyone, even the countess of Dairvin.
‘Of course.’ The countess gave her a condescending smile.
‘Mother.’ Victoria gave her a sharp look, then made a funny movement with her head, as if indicating something.
James followed her sightline. Dagmar was walking by, absently fiddling with the lapel on her riding jacket, not looking their way.
‘Hey,’ Brann said, catching her attention. ‘That was some ride this morning. Well done.’
The countess looked livid, but Ophelia seemed to be barely holding back a smile. She briefly caught James’s eye, and he glanced away in case he started laughing.
‘Thank you.’ Dagmar’s focus travelled from Brann around the group, and her cheeks reddened.
‘Yes, you were so lucky to pip Victoria again,’ the countess said in an icy tone.
‘Sorry.’ Her eyes flicked to Victoria.
‘You don’t need to apologise,’ James said. ‘All’s fair and all that.’
Victoria stared at him.
‘Yes, you were the better rider on the day,’ Ophelia said, then added to Victoria, ‘No offence.’
Victoria looked like she was barely mastering an urge to slap her… And possibly James too.
‘I should introduce you to Sherri Charlton and her son James.’ The countess lazily flicked her finger between the two of them. ‘This is Dagmar Ingenfeld, winner of everything every year.’
Should he say they’d already met? That might throw up some unwelcome questions, though Ophelia could burst the bubble at any second if she chose to. ‘Good to meet you.’ James smiled. ‘And congratulations on earning a title like that.’
Ophelia barely disguised a laugh, but Dagmar didn’t react.
‘Indeed,’ Sherri said.
Dagmar gave Sherri the briefest flicker of a glance.
Ophelia patted her on the back. ‘You have such an amazing record in this event. We’re lucky to have you at Glenvorneth.’ Her eyes travelled to James, and her puzzled look didn’t escape him. Yes, she knew too well he and Dagmar had met countless times at Glenvorneth. No doubt she was wondering what the hell was going on. He couldn’t tell her – definitely not here and now. His thoughts had locked in combat inside his head, making it ache, and he felt like he should say something else, though he wasn’t sure what.
Sherri eyed Dagmar like she was nothing more than dirt on her shoe. ‘Yes, huge congratulations. Quite an achievement.’
‘Thank you.’ Dagmar shuffled her feet and blinked. Poor thing. She so obviously wanted to be miles from here, and who could blame her?
‘Well, I’m coming for you next time,’ Victoria said. ‘Though I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to dedicate as much time to the horses. Definitely not as much as you. Because well…’ She glanced up at James. ‘I might be engaged elsewhere.’
His insides froze. Engaged? Fuck’s sake. His parents would be over the moon. This was exactly what they’d dreamed of. Exactly what he should be dreaming of, but it didn’t give him one second of pleasure.
Dagmar’s cheeks reddened. ‘Um… Yeah.’
‘Ah well,’ Brann said. ‘Sounds like good, healthy competition.’
Ophelia gave Victoria a pointed look. She and the countess were both sharp as needles, though Ophelia had more compassion. But James kept his face impassive. He wouldn’t put it past either of them to stab a guess at what was going through his head, and he couldn’t allow that.
Dagmar’s gaze flickered between the group. ‘I’ll let you all get on.’ Her eyes only briefly found his, and he was quite certain she was trying to avoid meeting them.
‘Indeed,’ the countess said, her tone dismissive, ‘we mustn’t keep you from the horses.’
Dagmar gave a little nod. ‘Well, excuse me.’ She turned to leave, her posture stiff, her expression controlled.
As she walked away, her shoulders seemed to slump, and James’s heart ached to see her like that. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to go after her. It would only make things worse. But she didn’t deserve this.
‘Poor girl,’ Victoria said with a loud sigh. ‘She really needs to get a life, doesn’t she?’
‘She has a perfectly good life,’ Ophelia said. ‘She just chooses to spend it in a different way from you. We should all respect that.’
James could have kissed her. ‘Agreed. We can’t all be the same. It would make for a very boring world.’ He took in a deep breath, his insides in knots. His parents would be casting this event up as one of the most successful in recent months, but all he could think about was what an utter shitshow it had been. And how the hell could he make it up to Dagmar?