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‘Maybe. I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be. We’ll sort it. I’m going to fill Dad in now.’
‘If you think that would help?’
‘We’ll see. At least he’ll know which of the councillors might be on our side when we appeal.’
After getting off the phone to Henry, Estelle went around the back of the manor, through the formal gardens, and into the park behind. It was at least an hour’s hike through the fields to the livery and she needed the time away from everyone to process what had just happened.
The clouds were low and angry, the air filled with drizzle. It clung to her clothes as she made her way up the steep slope, coalescing into cold drops that found their way under her collar to run down her neck.
She forced herself to walk faster, her anger at James, and herself, fuelling her pace. She knew she’d been unprofessional in her outburst, but meeting Elyse, then hearing James’s words on the phone, had made the red mist descend until she was choking with rage.
The festival was her baby. Finally, something for the estate that was nothing to do with her parents. She’d been so excited to work with Excelsior, but now she was more miserable than she’d ever been.
‘You shine brighter than anyone else.’
She kicked a clod of earth with her muddy shoe as she remembered James’s words to her at the Winter Ball. In that moment, she’d fallen just a little bit in love with the nameless, faceless stranger who’d saved her life and held her so confidently in his arms.
‘Somerset’s a pussy desert, mate.’
Raising her face to the prickling cold of the rain, Estelle let out a scream of frustration. That was the real James, the one Henry had warned her about, the one who’d treated Elyse so badly, the one who lied, manipulated and bullied at every turn.
By the time Estelle got to the livery, the exercise had done nothing to take the edge off her anger. Changing into her wellies, she went to work, shovelling the heavy clods of dung and straw out of the stables until her arms and back screamed at her to stop.
‘Bad day?’ Molly asked as she arrived with a steaming cup of coffee.
Estelle took it. ‘Thanks, and yes. Even shittier than what’s in this wheelbarrow.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
‘No.’
‘You do know we’ve got a load of young girls desperate to do this job? You really don’t have to do it.’
‘I needed to.’
‘You could take Duke out?’
Estelle eyed Chester and Joy, who were sitting on the other side of the stable door, waiting patiently for her to do something more interesting that they could join in with.
‘Yeah, you’re right. I should have done that first.’ She slurped as much hot coffee as her stomach could stand, then tossed the dregs down the drain. ‘Thanks, Moll.’
Molly took the empty mug. ‘Anytime. Now leave the rest of this and get going.’
Estelle nodded and went to the tack room, whistling for her dogs. She wanted to keep exercising until she was so tired that an immediate and dreamless sleep was guaranteed.
An hour and a half later, Estelle trotted back into the yard on Duke, sweating and streaked with mud from when she’d fallen off after losing her balance.
Molly dashed out of the stables. ‘You’ve got to ring your brother.’
‘Which one? What’s happened?’
‘Henry. He said it was an emergency.’
Estelle pulled her phone from her pocket. She’d had it on silent and had missed several calls from Henry, one from Jack and two from Alan at the garage.
‘Fuck!’ She glanced at her watch—six thirty. ‘I’ve totally forgotten about picking up the Defender.’
