Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
I could feel myself travelling, my terrified gaze staring up at the elaborately designed ceiling, which reminded me of a whipped meringue.
I couldn’t brace. I couldn’t do anything.
I waited for the inevitable pain to rock through my body when I landed.
But it didn’t.
Hold on.
I hadn’t tumbled down the staircase, nor had I appeared to have hurt myself.
Instead, I was staring up into the warm, deep-brown eyes of Evan. Again, just like when he’d carried me up these same stairs just days ago.
What?
I was being held in his arms, like a swooning Scarlett O’ Hara being rescued by Rhett Butler.
‘This seems to be becoming a bit of a habit,’ grinned Evan, his attention hovering on my mouth. ‘Not that I’m complaining. Are you ok?’
No, I felt like saying. I’m far from ok. My heart was racing like mad in my chest as though caught in a crosswind. His arms were around me, his fingers gently pressing into my back. I couldn’t stop looking at his mouth. I’m so close to kissing you right now, you have no idea.
‘Yes,’ I bleated. ‘Thanks. I’m fine. Thank you. You can put me down now.’
The last thing I wanted was for Evan to let me go, but I knew I couldn’t stay like that forever.
‘Sure.’
Evan released me and set me down on both feet on the next step of the staircase.
Louise was charging up towards us, flapping her tea towels around. ‘Oh God, Daisy! I’m so sorry. Are you alright?’
She bent down and snatched up a small, white, leather spectacles case. ‘That’s what almost made you come a cropper. My bloody glasses!’
‘I’m ok, don’t worry.’ I turned and looked at Evan standing beside me. ‘Thank you for catching me.’
‘You’re welcome.’
The air stilled between us. I didn’t want to drag my eyes away from him.
After a few more charged moments, we set off together down the staircase.
Louise stuffed her retrieved spectacles case back inside the pocket of her apron. She was observing us with keen interest. ‘Right,’ she twinkled. ‘I’ll go and make you a cup of sweet tea to steady your nerves. I’m going to have one as well. Evan?’
He didn’t answer. There was a preoccupied angle to his face as he looked across at me. We reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘Evan? Earth calling?’
‘Oh, sorry. Er, yes, a tea would be great, Lou. Thanks.’
She beckoned us to follow her into the kitchen. Strobes of sunshine were spilling in through the windows and over the tiled floor of the great hall.
We seated ourselves at the black marble breakfast bar while Louise fetched the teapot and proceeded to fill it at the sink. ‘How are you feeling now, Daisy?’
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ I reassured her.
‘You sure?’
‘Yes.’ I flicked Evan beside me the briefest glance. My blood pressure had rocketed, but for different reasons.
Evan waited until Louise had made the pot of tea and clattered over to the breakfast bar with it on a tray. She sat herself on a stool opposite both of us and poured it out.
‘Florence Menzies,’ said Evan abruptly.
Louise curled her fingers around her dainty, flower sprigged teacup. ‘Yes, what about her?’
Evan pushed back a stray lock of hair. ‘Do you know how your dad found out about Florence and what happened to her?’
‘Aye, I do.’ Louise took a sip of her tea.
‘Like I said, he was always very into his local history.’ She fiddled with the handle of her teacup in front of her.
‘My dad, Montgomery, had always been a keen amateur historian. Some might say he was rather obsessed with the past, especially links to the local area.’
She considered her words. ‘As I remember it, my dad had been for a pint or two at what used to be the most popular pub in Forrest Bank, The Fisherman’s Tail.
It’s now that fancy scented candle shop.
’ Louise shook her head in wonder. ‘Dearie me, this was about fifty years ago now. Where does the time go?’ She pulled her attention back to her story.
‘Anyway, my dad told my mother and me that your grandfather was in the pub and a few sheets to the wind.’
Evan’s lips twitched and turned to me. ‘If you’d met my grandfather, old Conrad, you’d understand. The stories I’ve heard about him and my grandma Betty.’
Louise picked up the story again. ‘Conrad was bragging about The Ramblings and how wonderful his parents – your great-grandparents Blanche and Jeremy – were, and how much they’d brought to the local area, when someone sidled up to my father and muttered in his ear, “Aye. I bet Florence Menzies’s relatives would have a different story to tell about old man Lord and his missus. ”’
Louise picked up her teacup again and took a considered sip. ‘My father had no idea who this man was, but he was curious and tried to follow him out the pub, but the mystery man vanished. That was when my dad took it upon himself to do some digging.’
‘And that was when he uncovered the story about Florence?’ I asked, fascinated.
‘Och, it took a long time, but my dad had so much patience and dedication for this sort of thing. He relished it. Unpicking the past, pulling back layers of history and revealing people who had been lost in the midst of time.’
Louise stared past us out the kitchen window.
‘But yes, he did eventually uncover what had happened to poor wee Florence Menzies. He researched her family tree and managed to trace relatives who had once lived here but since moved to Inverness.’ She gave a decisive nod.
‘That was when he uncovered the fact that the vase had been stolen from here, and that Florence was blamed for taking it.’ She sighed.
‘The wee lass had protested her innocence right from the start.’
Evan tutted under his breath. ‘Like my mum and dad said, I guess, as a family we buried it in the past and didn’t want to talk about it. No wonder.’
I examined him next to me. His deep, dark, pensive stare shone back.
‘It’s a pity Florence’s relatives couldn’t have done more,’ I chipped in, pulling my attention away from Evan.
‘None of the Menzies family has lived here for donkey’s years.
And even if they had tried to say something, who would have believed them?
A well-heeled couple who owned this house, or poor working-class members of the community?
’ Louise clicked her tongue. ‘The Lords did a very impressive job of keeping everything hushed up. Apologies, Evan.’
‘None taken. From what Dad has said about Blanche and Jeremy Lord, they made Bellatrix and Voldemort look like Tom and Jerry.’
I laughed despite the seriousness of it.
Louise gestured around at the shiny copper saucepans, the vase of lavender heather on the windowsill and the woodland spread outside like an emerald sea. ‘This is such a gorgeous house and has so many tales to tell. They should all be told, even the not-so-happy ones.’
She turned back to Evan and me. ‘As you’ll have seen from the journal I gave you about Florence, my father was a copious notetaker.
When my mother passed away, I took ownership of all his journals.
If there’s any other information in them about Florence or your great-grandparents, I’ll find it for you. ’
‘Thank you,’ said Evan. He moved around the breakfast bar and gave her a fierce hug. She coloured up.
‘When I go home tonight, I’ll see what else I can find. I’ve stashed all his journals in boxes under my stairs.’
* * *
That night, I climbed the stairs and was about to crank open my bedroom door when I noticed across the hallway that Evan’s door was ajar.
He was concentrating on his laptop with his spectacles perched on the end of his aquiline nose.
His mobile rang, making me jump.
He took the call and proceeded to murmur and nod, tapping his pen on the edge of his desk. ‘We need some good and fast marketing and promo for this, Hal.’ He listened as the person at the other end replied.
‘Great! I appreciate it. It’s a story that needs to be told, and I’m not going to lie, if the tour does grow legs and take off, the revenue will go a long way in helping to keep The Ramblings afloat.’
There was another pause as the caller at the end of the line said something else.
‘Yeah, I’ve just fired you off an email with some background information.
Mum and Dad have been amazing, but they can’t be expected to do all this on their own.
They’re both always up to their eyes in their own charitable work.
I’ve been doing my bit, but you know what these old houses are like. They eat money.’
Evan fell quiet and listened. ‘OK, cheers, mate. Speak to you soon, and please say hi to Livvie and the kids for me.’
I waited until Evan had wrapped up the call and popped his mobile back down on his writing desk before I rapped on the door.
‘Hey. Come in. Have you recovered from your staircase escapade from earlier?’ He tugged off his spectacles and trained his attention on me.
I tried to pull my emotions together as I took a couple more steps into his bedroom. ‘Yes, thanks to you.’
Evan winked. ‘Not all heroes wear capes. It was just lucky I was in the right place at the right time.’
My breath caught. He even had a sexy wink.
Through a chink in Evan’s curtains, I caught a sliver of milky crescent moon and a toss of blinking stars like pieces of broken glass. ‘You busy?’ I asked, noting how this man managed to turn my insides into knots for the hundredth time.
‘Yes, just spoke to a friend who runs his own public relations and marketing company. He owes me a favour.’ Evan stood up and stretched. His T-shirt tightened against his chest.
I averted my eyes.
‘He can help us promote the tour. He’s very innovative.’
‘That’s good. That’s just what we need!’
I loitered, glancing at Evan’s silver laptop.
There was a crackling silence. ‘I just bumped into Louise downstairs, who said she hasn’t forgotten about looking at more of her late father’s journals to see if there’s anything else that might help us.’
‘That’d be great.’
I pushed both hands into my sundress pockets. ‘Ok then, well, goodnight, Evan.’