Chapter 21
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
EMMA
We pulled off the road and drove through huge, wrought-iron gates that opened automatically for us, onto a long, winding driveaway.
All the while, I was subtly observing Alex, trying to assess his body language as I quizzed him about Sirius Bell.
He didn’t give much away. And his answers were what you’d expect any sane, upstanding member of the community to say after a heinous crime had been committed.
In all honesty, I didn’t think Alex was capable of assisting in something of that magnitude of hideousness.
But at the same time, I couldn’t shake the little voice in my head, reminding me that he had the largest collection of S.K.A.M. art in the country.
That perhaps he knew who he was. And maybe, he was friendlier with him than he’d let on.
Should I be making a run for it when the car stopped?
I stared out of the window with a twist of anxiety in my stomach as we drove through sprawling fields as far as the eye could see.
In the distance, the sky was grey and full of rain clouds, but the view was vibrant and green, with lush grass and trees.
The driveway we travelled down was lined with short, neat hedges and Victorian lampposts that I knew would look stunning when they were lit up in the evening.
I picked my bag up off the floor and held it tightly in my lap, ready for a quick escape, as I watched the scenery roll past the window. Then I held in a gasp as the house came into view.
Sunford Manor was a huge stately home, a mansion that would give Buckingham Palace a run for its money.
There were so many windows I felt sorry for the window cleaner having to clean them all, and I found myself wondering who else lived here.
Surely Alex didn’t rattle around inside this mansion alone?
He’d have staff, I knew that, but it’d take a whole army to keep an estate like this running.
I struggled to stay on top of my housework, and I lived in a tiny, terraced house.
And then my nerves hitched, making me feel sick.
What if S.K.A.M. lived here too?
I tried to keep my nerves in check as Alex drove the car around the circular driveway to park by the steps that led to the front doors. A man in a dark suit had already opened the doors to the house and was heading down the steps to meet us.
“Remind me why I’m here again?” I asked as much to myself as to Alex, trying not to panic as the man approached us, and Alex waved him over to my side of the car.
“You humoured me and agreed to come here,” Alex announced chirpily.
“Also, we had an appointment. I hate to upset my schedule. And like I said in my text, I think I can help you.” He leaned closer to me, and added, “Try not to overthink it, Emma. We can have a coffee and a chat. No pressure. Maybe you can see the art I told you about. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”
If he could peer into my brain, he’d see that comfort was currently toying with apprehension for dominance.
I was on edge. My brain was darting from one wild theory to another, and my world felt like it was on a fast-track to destruction.
There was a crazy killer stalking me, and I was weeks, maybe even days away from being a desolate, homeless, down and out.
I gave a fake smile in response, a smile that didn’t reach my eyes as I stepped out of the car, thanking the man for holding my door open.
I clutched my bag as I debated running or letting this play out.
He did seem to be sincere. And he was insanely hot.
Perhaps I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
Spend the afternoon with him and enjoy forgetting about life for a while.
“I’d prefer a tea to coffee,” I replied cheekily, injected a lighter mood into my thoughts and dampening the darker ones.
I walked around the car to join Alex on the steps of his manor. “And I’m intrigued by your art collection.”
And sickened by the man who created it.
But I kept that thought to myself.
“I’m pleased you said that. I’ve been dying to show you around.”
Alex instructed the man, who was called Thomas, to park his car in the garage for him, and told him he wouldn’t need it again today.
At first, I didn’t say anything. I guessed he thought I’d book an Uber to get home, despite protesting about me using one earlier. But the warning sirens began to blare loudly, and I had to ask, “You’re not using the car again?”
He leaned his head towards me as he smiled and said, “Forgive me. I’m being a show-off today. I was going to use one of my other cars to drive you home. I wanted to impress you.”
“I’m impressed enough already,” I replied and judging from the way he puffed out his chest, he liked that response.
We climbed the marble steps towards the front doors of the manor, and as we walked inside, I stopped for a second to take in the wonder of the foyer, with its sweeping staircase, and tall, grand windows, that brought so much light into the area.
The walls were cream, the carpets too, and in the middle of the foyer, just below the staircase, was a beautiful, mahogany table with a stunning floral arrangement of lilies.
An older woman stood expectantly beside the table, and asked, “May I take your coat?”
She stepped forward, as I tried to pick my jaw off the floor at the grandeur of this home.
I couldn’t help but lift my head, peering in wonder like a child at Christmas at the chandelier that sparkled above us.
And Alex answered, “Thank you, Alma.” As I stood there, struck dumb. My manners flying well and truly out of the window.
“I’m so sorry,” I added, righting myself. “Yes, thank you.” And I slipped Alex’s suit jacket, that I was still wearing, and my flimsy coat off and handed them to her.
“I’d appreciate it if you could hold all my calls while Miss Belmont is here,” Alex instructed. “We don’t want to be disturbed.”
“Of course, Sir.” She bowed and smiled at Alex as she draped my wet coat and his jacket over her arm.
“Also, could you put Miss Belmont’s coat in the dryer, ready for later?”
“Certainly.”
“And a pot of tea when you have time, to be served in my office,” Alex added, as she nodded and backed away.
“Of course,” she replied politely, and from the warmth in her eyes, I could tell she thought a lot of Alex. She was clearly happy to be working here.
“Let me get you a sweater,” he said, turning his attention back to me. Attention, I couldn’t deny, I liked having. “You’re still shivering,” he added, and I glanced down at my arms to see goosebumps on my skin that I hadn’t noticed before.
Were they the result of the cold air or the way he was staring at me? If I was honest, I couldn’t really tell. Maybe a bit of both.
He went to walk away, but I called out, “No, don’t worry.
I’m fine. It’s just the breeze from the open door.
” I turned to see the door in question was now closed.
There was no breeze. “I’ll be okay. Honestly.
” I turned back to face him, hoping he didn’t notice the blush of embarrassment in my cheeks.
“Why don’t you show me your paintings? I’d love to see your collection.
” I announced to distract us both from the awkward tension that’d started to build.
He grinned back at me, and the way he smiled made my stomach swirl with nerves, like they had the first time we’d met. I loved how he could do that.
But then I remembered who’d made the artwork he wanted me to see. The artwork he collected so fanatically, and I felt conflicted again.
Did I really want to see the work of a man who was making my life hell, even though Alex was going to be the one showing them to me?
“Okay,” Alex said. “Follow me.”
And I did, knowing I would probably have to fake my enthusiasm.
Nothing that artist did would ever fill me with awe again.
Not now.
I strode forward, walking in step beside Alex, as he led me down the hallway.
The walls were wood-panelled but painted cream to match the carpet, and there were huge sash windows that let in so much natural light it gave everything a bright, airy feel.
It was the opposite of what I’d expected when I saw the building from the outside.
I thought it would be all dark wood and antiques, not this modern haven of a home.
I couldn’t deny, I loved the feel of the place.
“Your home is beautiful,” I said, as I admired the detailed coving along the ceiling. “It’s very warm. Very... stylish.”
“You’ve only seen the hallway,” he gave a light chuckle and added, “And the foyer, but thank you. I made a lot of changes when I took over the estate. I’m glad you like what you’ve seen so far.
I have to admit, I’m a sucker for beautiful things.
” He gave me a boyish grin, like he was talking about more than the house, but when he turned and pushed open a set of double doors to reveal a room filled with artwork, I stopped still, staring in disbelief.
“Wow,” I gasped. “This room is amazing.” And it really was.
I stepped inside and peered around at all the art on the walls. There were portraits, landscapes, modernist, impressionist, every type of ‘ist’ painting you could think of in this room. It was an impressive collection, and not at all like the S.K.A.M. pieces I’d seen so far.
“This is my mother’s collection,” Alex stated, as I crept further into the room, studying each masterpiece. “She loved art. She was the reason I went on to collect myself. She taught me a lot.”
I stopped in front of a painting of Sunford Manor, and leaned forward, squinting to read the artist’s name.
“My mother painted that one,” Alex said, his voice near my ear, making the skin on my neck prickle. Now I definitely had goosebumps, and not from the cold. “She was an amateur painter,” he added.
“It doesn’t look amateur to me,” I replied, feeling breathless and a little dizzy. Having him so close was doing things to me. Things that I wanted more of.