AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Icy rain relentlessly carpet-bombed the gravel driveway as James peered out of the window, waiting for Estelle to arrive. He shivered, his nose so close to the thin glass he could practically feel the cold gusts as the pane rattled in the wooden frame.
Overpriced dump, he thought for the millionth time.
Shoscombe Manor was a listed building, so his family wasn’t allowed to replace the single-paned windows with triple, or even double-glazed ones. As such, the manor leaked heat like boiling water pouring through a sieve, and the bill to bring the inside temperature slightly above freezing was currently running at over a thousand pounds a week.
His father had always played fast and loose with his finances, but this was the first time in his life James had seen him on the back foot. The money for the music and arts festival had been ring-fenced in BDE Entertainment’s account, but it wasn’t as much as they’d promised to invest. So now James had to find ways to cut corners and hope Estelle never found out.
Estelle.
A flush of heat moved across his skin. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since their meeting in the church, but he’d thought about her constantly. She was like a racehorse; strong, powerful, beautiful… and skittish. He had no desire to tame her, he just wanted to harness and direct all that wild energy towards him.
Rein it in.
If Estelle lived in London instead of this damp and dreary backwater and he was still the highest earning broker at Conqueror. If she wasn’t related to Henry and James’s parents were different, then maybe…
Shut up. It’s never going to happen.
It wasn’t just one obstacle he had to clear to reach her, it was an entire course of them. Pits lined with sharpened stakes, netting electrified by two hundred and forty volts, and sheer walls topped with razor wire.
He let out a sigh of frustration, his breath fogging up the glass. Contracts could be broken, and by the way Henry had talked to Estelle at the church, it was clear her family were trying to get out of the one she’d signed with his company. James hadn’t wanted to push his luck, so had left her alone, crossing his fingers she showed up this morning.
His heart beat faster as a Land Rover Defender roared into the drive and skidded to a halt in a shower of gravel.
Right on time.
Pulling open the manor’s heavy front door, he dashed to the driver’s side of Estelle’s car carrying a golfing umbrella. As she got out, he clocked her battered, moss-green Barbour jacket and Le Chameau wellies. Both were clues to the fact that the only people above her in the British class system were the King and his immediate family.
‘Welcome to Shoscombe Manor,’ he said, the words sounding stiff and formal.
‘Thank you, Jeeves,’ she replied with a smirk, shunting the strap of a large bag to her shoulder.
Holding the umbrella out to protect Estelle from the rain and from having to stand too close to him, James extended his arm towards a long, single-storey wing of the house.
‘This way. The offices are here.’
She strode towards the building and he followed, trying to gauge her mood. However, her stunning face was also alarmingly impassive. Having Estelle Foxbrooke all thunderbolts and lightning felt far easier to handle than this. She was currently calmer than a day without a whisper of wind and it was unnerving.
He opened the door to the building, and she passed through into a bare entry room, the walls lined with coat hooks and low shelves for shoes.
‘This is to accommodate temporary staff nearer to the event date,’ he said.
There was a door to the right that led to the offices, and one to the left with a sign on it reading ‘No Entry’.
Estelle nodded again, tugged off her wellies, and took a pair of slippers from her bag. Each one was twice the size of an adult head, and in the shape of a demented, Day-Glo unicorn. She fiddled with something inside, and the googly eyes lit up, cycling through a rainbow of colours.
James bit his tongue to stop a comment from escaping.
Putting the slippers on, she gestured at the door to their left. ‘What’s through there?’
‘My parents and their staff.’
She turned the handle. ‘It’s locked.’
‘And will remain that way.’
‘Where’s the key?’
‘There’s no reason for you to pass through.’
