Chapter 17 #4
“I’ll be back late—probably after you’ve gone to bed.”
“No, I’ll wait up. Hey, I know, I’ll get this Philipa to take me to a shop, and I’ll cook something for dinner.”
“That would be—nice.”
* * *
Nikolas was in London by midmorning. He’d summoned his whole team—except for Andrea Gillian, who wasn’t involved in the Lancashire business.
He was swiftly updated by Squeezy—Doctor Wood’s London office was closed.
The website was temporarily disabled for maintenance.
The doctor’s receptionist didn’t know where her boss was but thought he’d had an emergency in the family and would probably be back in a few days. Could she make them an appointment?
The manor house in Lancashire was empty.
It had been stripped bare of cameras and what little furniture there’d been.
The American psychologist, Grantley, was apparently back in the States.
He wasn’t practising—his licence had been revoked in 2006 for moral turpitude.
As no one knew what this was, including Nikolas, they glossed over it to discuss the actors.
Kate was having trouble following the money trail. She excused herself from the meeting after her update and promised she’d carry on working from home.
* * *
Philipa arrived at exactly nine a.m. Ben was watching for her.
In a glass house this wasn’t hard to do.
She was not what he’d been expecting. He’d pictured an extremely thin, glamorous, exceptionally beautiful and stylish woman.
He had the distinct impression Nikolas Mikkelsen wouldn’t want anything but perfection in his life—in his bed—as everything else in his life was exquisite and just so.
He’d clearly done the man an injustice because this woman wasn’t even pretty.
She clamoured out of an old Land Rover wearing tweed, sturdy shoes, and a headscarf.
For one bizarre moment, Ben felt as if the Queen were visiting him.
He went to the door and she embraced him.
“Hello, Ben, darling. Dreadful business, but you’ll bounce back.
You always do. Now, Niki’s decreed I can’t tell you anything, so don’t try to badger me.
What have you done to your hair? Ghastly.
Right, that’s the first thing we can do today.
You look like a bloody badger. What’s that appalling thing on your neck?
Oh, don’t tell me you got his—so, how are you, other than the obvious?
Right, are you ready? Where’s that smelly old dog?
Where’s my best boy? Hello, darling, good boy, yes, you’re a good boy.
You want to come out with us? No, don’t do that, darling. ”
They were seated in the old vehicle and clattering down the lane toward the ford before she stopped for breath, and Ben quickly interjected, “How long have you known Sir Nikolas?”
She glanced sideward at him. “Don’t fish. He warned me you would.”
“That’s about you! Not me!”
She hooted with laughter.
“What?”
“That’s the first time in ten years you haven’t called me ma’am and stuttered like a guilty puppy sitting next to a pile of pooh.”
“Err…”
“Never mind me. It’s just rather amusing that you’re now the one who doesn’t know.”
“Err…”
“Sixteen years. I’ve known him sixteen years, give or take. Sometimes it’s seemed longer.”
“So…you still see each other? Get along?”
She gave a wry smile. “I think Nikki is the easiest person I’ve ever met to get along with. We got along famously.”
“But you divorced.”
“He met someone else.”
“Oh, Christ, sorry. But they broke up, too?”
“Oh, no, hell would freeze over first. He’s completely obsessed.” She glanced over at him.
“Of course, it’s totally understandable.” She kept her eyes on him for a moment longer. “What?” Suddenly she spluttered, “You’re not…jealous? Of this new person in Nikki’s life? That would be deliciously amusing.”
Ben straightened in alarm and confusion.
“Jealous? Of Sir Nikolas’s new girlfriend? Of course I’m—”
“So, Exeter, yes?”
Ben nodded weakly.
* * *
Once over his initial embarrassment of being forced together for the day, and realising Philipa wasn’t going to tell him anything he wanted to know, Ben enjoyed his day immensely.
He had his blond growth cut out and that made him look and feel more himself.
He bought some groceries, based on Philipa’s advice about what meat Nikolas liked to eat, not sure why she laughed at this, but not calling her on it, and then they’d taken Radulf for a walk along the canal and had lunch in The Turf—the only pub in Britain, so Philipa informed him, which was not accessible by car.
It served only locally sourced food and all the ale and wine was from either Devon or Cornwall.
Even the gin Philipa drank (in impressively large quantities) was from Plymouth.
When Ben commented politely that Philipa had a good appetite, she merely replied dryly that food was clearly something else they had in common.
They arrived home at teatime to find a car in the driveway in front of the house.
Neither of them recognised it, but as they entered the kitchen, Kate rose from the table and introductions were made.
Kate explained Nikolas had sent her to relieve Philipa.
Of babysitting duties? Yes. Both women laughed, and Ben made a show of being annoyed.
Secretly he was enjoying all the attention.
Philipa made her farewells and they were left together.
Ben claimed he wanted to start on dinner.
Kate suggested why not relax first—a swim maybe?
Ben loved anything physical and agreed. He didn’t know if he owned a swimsuit, though. So what?—she hadn’t brought one.
They agreed skinny-dipping would be fine.
After all, she was the one thing he did remember.
He remembered a lot of her…
* * *
Nikolas arrived back at the house just after midnight.
He’d been tempted to stay in London overnight but felt incredibly guilty at leaving Philipa for so long.
She knew the house well and would no doubt have made herself at home, but she was a busy woman.
All the royal family were always incredibly busy.
He saw the car from the ridgeline. The glass house threw light out, illuminated the valley.
It was one of the reasons he’d had the house designed so—their lives had needed a little more light shining upon them at the time.
Sometimes, however, it was a disadvantage.
He not only saw the car, he recognised it. It was Kate’s car.
The house was quiet. Radulf rose from his basket and padded over to greet him. The kitchen was a mess. Someone had cooked. There were three or four empty bottles of wine on the counter.
He heard scuffling of bare feet on granite floor slabs, controlled his expression, and turned. Ben was coming out of the room he’d been put in, scratching his ribs idly, a sheet wrapped loosely around his waist. “Oh, hi. You’re late.”
“Did I wake you?”
“Sorry. I promised I’d stay up but—”
“Kate came.”
Ben grinned and slid onto a stool alongside Nikolas. “Yeah, she did.” He poked Nikolas’s arm in a friendly way. “Lots of times. Jogged my memory about all kinds of things.”
“Yes. I wondered. When I saw the car.”
Ben leant over to grab a piece of cheese left on the counter. “I’m starving.”
Nikolas decided not to play anymore. Sometimes even his great reserves of strength deserted him.
He strode over to the bedroom door and looked inside, nodding to himself as he saw the sleeping woman sprawled naked in Ben’s bed.
Ben seemed to sense some change in the atmosphere and ventured hesitantly around a mouthful of cheddar, “Sorry. But she said you didn’t mind Squeezy and whatshisname sleeping together, so I guessed you wouldn’t mind us…
Philipa is really nice, by the way. We had a great day. Do you like my hair?”
“Yes. I do. I’ve always liked it. I’m very tired, Ben.
I’m going to bed. Will you tell Kate I’ll speak with her later?
Will you make sure to tell her that? Those exact words.
In fact, tell her that when I find her, I’ll speak with her.
Can you remember that for me? Goodnight.
” Nikolas started to go toward the rear of the house then turned abruptly and headed back out into the moonlight.
He tilted his face to the sky for a moment then strode off across the manicured lawn.
* * *
Ben might have lost his memory, but he hadn’t lost his faculties. His boss was upset about something. His boss was upset about…Kate. He looked toward the bedroom. Oh, shit. He’d suddenly worked out who Philipa had been talking about—who Nikolas was seeing. The love of his fucking life!
He knotted the sheet more securely around his waist and ran out after Nikolas.
The gravel hurt his feet, but he made it to the lawn, hopping slightly and picking stones out of his flesh.
He could see a blur of white from the direction of the stables: Nikolas’s shirt.
It was freezing. He picked up the sheet like a belle of the ball holding her skirts away from dew and ran on.
Nikolas was in the stable talking quietly to his horse, his face pressed to her warm coat.
He’d obviously heard Ben’s arrival but didn’t acknowledge him. Ben went closer, the warmth and smell of the stable oddly comforting, and said quietly and simply, “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. She didn’t tell me.”
“I’m busy, Benjamin, can we talk about this some other time?”
“I didn’t know! I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you! I—I mean, fuck. I didn’t know, okay?”
“You’ll startle the horses. Be silent. What are you talking about?”
“You and Kate! You implied you didn’t have a girlfriend, but Philipa told me you had this great love of your life. I didn’t realise it was Kate! Christ. What a total fuck up.”