Chapter Thirteen
Rory looked at her in astonishment as she continued.
‘My coat. I just noticed a bit of a whiff earlier and wondered if maybe the sheep had weed on me last night?’
Rory opened the door and leant forward and sniffed her coat. As he did, Clem received a waft of shampoo and wax, strong clean smells. Smells that made her feel warm. Rory pulled back and returned her smile.
‘You smell urine free to me, a bit pongy but that’s to be expected having been stuck in a ditch with a sheep and then not had a shower.’
‘Well you don’t smell so great yourself,’ she lied, crossing her fingers.
‘Rubbish,’ he said with a smile. ‘I got up early enough to have a shower. I smell just fine. Now stop fussing and come inside.’
As Clem stepped down from the cab, her feet sank into the snow. Rory tutted and then picked her up and carried her to the door.
‘I can walk!’
‘Behave yourself. You’re hardly a burden, plus your shoes are completely unsuitable.’
Placing her gently down in front of her hosts, Clem apologised for her dramatic entrance and was quick to stress that she and Rory were not a couple and that she wasn’t in the habit of being carried places.
‘Carried you into the pub last night as well!’ said Rory with an unhelpful grin on his face.
Dismissing her apologies, the woman introduced herself as Lydia Hamilton and gestured towards her husband as mia spose, Joshua. Clem wondered if this was more Scottish. Why couldn’t everyone just speak English?
Looking around, Clem was impressed with how light and airy the grand hall seemed. The pale marble floor helped bounce the light around the room and the modern candelabra shone dramatically above. Clem made a note to herself that Ruacoddy could do with a lick of paint and maybe some rugs. And a miracle wouldn’t go amiss.
‘I like the baubles on the antlers,’ said Clem, pointing up to the stags’ heads. ‘Although I think I like the whole animal out on the hillside more.’
‘Oh you are funny,’ gushed Lydia. ‘Yes, I had to put the baubles up, as I felt they were all staring at me reproachfully.’
‘I’m sure they’re much happier with the baubles.’
Clem heard Rory snort, but Lydia seemed to have missed the dig as she suddenly noticed the state of Clem’s footwear.
‘Oh my God. Are they Louboutins! What have you done to them?’
Clem looked at her poor boots that now had a white tideline around the ankles and groaned.
‘Damn it, they were a gift from my sister. She’ll kill me. It’s so hard to find a model with tiny feet; these were perfect.’
Lydia looked equally appalled as Clem explained that she had picked the wrong outfit for sheep wrestling.
‘Golly, that sounds exciting! Come and join us in the drawing room. It has wonderful views up towards the waterfall, but more importantly, the fire is roaring and you can tell us more about your adventures and your sister. Is she a model?’
Clem trailed behind Lydia feeling uncomfortable. It was a general rule that outside of London, all Londoners must stick together, but if there was one sort of Londoner that stuck in Clem’s throat it was the Highgate Hoorays. As far as she was concerned, that sort knew nothing of London. Not the real, grubby, angry, cheerful, proud London. She bet Lydia owned a Chelsea tractor, then stopped short realising the irony of that thought, causing Lydia to turn round.
‘Are you okay? Did you groan? Come in and warm up.’
Lydia pushed open a double set of doors with a little flourish and stepped aside so that Clem could properly appreciate the room, and it was worthy of appreciation. The proportions were perfect, and wherever she looked Clem saw something pleasing, from the deep comfy sofas on either side of the fireplace to the huge windows framing the view down the glen to the waterfall, to the ornate ceiling in white plasterwork. The room was bright and welcoming, and the fire inviting. Clem was torn between looking out the window and warming up by the fire, but the fire won and she headed towards the sofa. Just as she was about to sit down, Lydia grabbed some magazines and suggested that she and Rory sit on top of them.
‘It’s a nightmare to clean these covers. I hope you don’t mind, this sofa cost us ￡20k; we had the pair of them especially commissioned.’
Clem agreed and sitting down on the magazines, then flung her arms over the sofa and leant back. As gorgeous as the plum and aubergine velvet cushions were, she hoped the sheep had peed on her. As Lydia sat opposite them, her smile tightened before she turned to her husband, graciousness restored.
‘Joshua, darling, will you do the honours?’
Clem wasn’t sure what the honours were but soon enough he returned with a tray bearing a teapot and shortbread.
‘You must try these, they’re divine.’
Clem took a bite and agreed they were indeed delicious.
‘I sadly can’t eat them. Got to look after one’s figure you know!’ She gave a tinkly laugh that reminded Clem of fingernails on chalkboards, and the biscuit dried in her mouth.
‘We get Cook to make them. Honestly, she’s a treasure, but hasn’t turned up today, so we’re roughing it. It’s such an adventure up here. We’re quite used to roughing it in the wilderness.’
Clem looked around the high-ceilinged room and the primrose silk-lined walls, covered in oil paintings. A chandelier hung overhead, reflecting the firelight, and the sofa and armchairs were draped with pretty throws in shades of heather, and silk scatter cushions, shining like pink and yellow jewels.
‘Yes, it’s positively barbaric.’
‘Oh they’re not so bad,’ laughed Lydia completely missing her joke; but Clem was pleased to see Rory’s lips twitch. At least he knew she hadn’t meant that the locals were barbaric.
‘We can’t really stop long,’ interrupted Rory, ‘we just wanted to return your sheep here that Clem found and she wanted to meet her new neighbours.’
‘Oh, are you new?’ Lydia suddenly perked up. ‘How exciting. It’s always wonderful to meet someone else from back home.’
‘Oh aye, yes,’ said Rory smiling, ‘you’re both English.’
‘More than that,’ laughed Joshua, ‘we’re both Londoners. Although I think little Clem here is a bit further east than us. Yes?’
Joshua smiled conspiratorially at Clem, who was busy working out how to poison him.
‘Oh really?’ said Rory. ‘You all sound the same to me.’
Which made Lydia and Joshua fall about laughing. They were delighted that they sounded like East Enders and did some mockney cockney impersonation. Clem’s eyes narrowed: the idea that she could sound like these twittering fools was intolerable. She opened her mouth and Rory leant forward and offered her another biscuit.
Unaware that she had just been saved from having her head ripped off, Lydia turned to Clem.
‘So where have you bought? I didn’t know anywhere locally was on the market. I must say it’s such a relief to have someone from back home nearby. I can help show you the ropes and introduce you to everyone. We’re a pretty far-flung crowd but we have some great get-togethers.’
That is never going to happen, thought Clem before decided to let the cat out of the bag.
‘Oh, I’ve not bought anywhere. I’ve just moved in to Ruacoddy.’
‘The castle.’ Lydia paused and Clem could see Lydia rapidly trying to pull some pieces together. ‘Clem? Oh good grief, are you Lady Clementine de Foix?’ Lydia looked excited and then suddenly paled. ‘Joshua, why are you making her ladyship sit on a magazine?’
Joshua looked properly aggrieved. Not least because he hadn”t been the one to make their guests sit on the magazines..
‘I’m fine. No point in getting the place covered in dirt. I must look quite a state.’ Clem had had enough; first she had been patronised now she was about to be fawned over. Time to leave. ‘Last night I fell in a ditch, got squished by a sheep, slept in my clothes on a sofa in a pub, haven’t been able to brush my hair and now I’m here messing up your lovely sofa. So, what do you want to do with your sheep?’
Lydia’s face crumbled. Ever since she had discovered that Ruacoddy Castle belonged to the de Foixes she had read every tiny scrap of information about them, but there was hardly a whisper. Now here was one of them sitting on her sofa and she had made her sit on a magazine.
‘Oh my dear Lady Clementine. I am so sorry! How rude you must think us?’ She cocked her head, waiting for Clem to dismiss her concerns, but Clem simply picked up another biscuit, which Lydia immediately copied. ‘Oh these are delicious, aren’t they? You are so right, sometimes we should just devour the moment.’
During this whole exchange, Clem had been aware of Rory looking at her and reassessing the situation. At no point had Clem lied about her identity; it had just failed to come up. Feeling anxious, she tried to hook her fingers into her necklace and realised she couldn’t feel it. Using both hands, she rummaged around her collar unsuccessfully. She jumped up and shook the top, hoping that the chain had broken, and the medallion was still on her person.
‘Bo, is everything all right?’
‘My necklace. I’ve lost my necklace,’ Clem said in alarm. She looked at the three people staring at her, hoping in vain that one of them would suddenly find it.
‘Is it terribly valuable?’ asked Lydia. ‘What does it look like?’
Clem looked at her blankly; how could she possibly explain its worth?
‘It’s a small silver medallion from my da. It has St Anthony on it.’
As she began to pat the cushions, it became blindingly obvious to her that she probably lost it in the ditch with the sheep.
‘Rory. It will be in the ditch! Can we go there now?’
With despair, she watched as he shook his head.
‘Little point in the snow. But it won’t be going anywhere. We can go and find it when it thaws?’
He smiled reassuringly and she tried to smile back.
All she wanted now was to get her medallion back around her neck. Instead, she was trying to work out how she could possibly get away from these awful snobs, save the sheep, have a shower and stop eating biscuits. Sod it, the sheep was on its own. She cleared her throat.
‘Actually, I really do need a shower. Can we leave the sheep with you and be off?’
They was a sudden flurry of concern. Whilst the sheep might be theirs, the Hamiltons didn’t actually get involved with the farming themselves. They had someone else do that for them. With a sigh, Rory suggested that they give their farmer a bell and he could come and pick it up. In the meantime, he, too, really had to get on.
Once outside, Lydia was still trying to get on Clem’s good side, whilst Joshua helped Rory with the sheep by standing beside him and suggesting he carry the sheep around to the garage. Clem kept touching her neck.
‘You must come over for supper. Joshua and I are longing for some company. Not that we haven’t settled in here, but you know. More people like us.’
Clem decided to stop being a bitch. It wasn’t this woman’s fault that she was rubbing her up the wrong way. She was just desperate to get clean and change her clothes, tame her hair and try and salvage her boots. Now with the link to her father lost, she felt abandoned.
‘That would be nice, but I’ve just arrived, so I’ll need a bit of time to find my feet.’
‘Of course and bring your husband or partner I’d love to meet him.’
‘Oh I’m single, no time for that.’
Happily, Rory had returned and Clem was spared any further interrogation. Before he could pick her up again, she dashed towards the passenger side of his car. It had felt embarrassing and alarming when Rory had picked her up and she didn’t want to consider those feelings. She was done with men, especially hairy ones.
***
As they drove off again, Rory looked across at her. He cleared his throat.
‘So, what do I call you? Lady Clementine? Lady Bo Peep?’
She glared at him and saw he was grinning broadly.
‘Clem will be just fine.’
‘You didn’t say they could call you Clem?’
‘No I didn’t, did I? Will the sheep be okay?’
‘She’ll be fine, Andrew’s already on his way.’
At the top of the road, there was a Land Rover waiting for them and Rory pulled alongside to have a few words with the man sitting inside. After a quick exchange, Andrew called across to Clem, thanking her for rescuing the sheep.
‘Honestly, they are more trouble than they’re worth some days. They’re the wrong breed for here.’
Clem undid her belt and shuffled along the seat, leaning past Rory. Once again, she seemed aware of just how close she was to him.
‘Will she be okay? Does a sheep leg mend easily?’
‘Probably not. Trying to keep sheep alive is an uphill struggle. Still, I’ll do my best.’
As they said their goodbyes, Rory drove a little further to Clem’s car.
‘Okay, you’re only a few miles from here. I’ll be saying goodbye then.’
Clem looked in concern at the snow that still lay on the road.
‘Are you not going my way? I thought I could follow your tracks? Maybe we could drive past the spot where I saved the sheep?’
Rory paused and looked at his watch. There was no point looking for the medallion right now, but ever since she had discovered it was lost he had watched as she kept pulling at her collar. Her train of thought was distracted, and he could see how distressed the loss was making her, even though she tried to hide it. Reminding her that there was no point in looking for it now, he agreed that he would drive to her castle and see her to the front door.
***
By now a tension headache was beginning to build behind Clem’s eyes. As she drove slowly along behind him, the glare from the white snow was blinding her and every time she sped up she started to fantasise about plunging over the side of the ravine and crashing to her death. As she got to the castle, Clem knew she was going to be sick if she didn’t take a headache tablet straight away.
Otto had clearly seen the cars arriving and was standing at the front door as the cars pulled up.
As Clem clambered down from her car, Rory and Otto were already talking.
‘I thought you’d be busy taking care of your place this morning?’ said Otto.
‘Something else came up.’
‘That would be me I’m afraid,’ said Clem weakly. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘Not to worry,’ smiled Rory. ‘Why don’t you give your dad a call and explain about the necklace. I’m sure he’ll forgive you if it’s lost?’
His words stuck her like a dagger. Her father would never forgive her for anything ever again. All she had of him was gone, lost in the snow. Her stomach turned over and she knew she was going to vomit. Ignoring the farmer and her housekeeper, Clem fled upstairs.
Otto and Rory looked at her in amazement as she suddenly turned on her heel and ran upstairs without saying another word.
Rory cocked his head and watched her run across the halls, leaving bits of snow as she headed for the stairs. How incredibly rude. He wasn’t sure if he had ever met anyone like her in his life.