He beamed.
‘You’re welcome. Now, let me take this…’
He swept the suitcase away from her before she could stop him, and strode over to the car, where he popped the boot and put it in, then opened the passenger door for her. Juliet shuddered. Did he really think he was going to win her over with all this gallantry? She really hated it – it made her feel out of control, and in control was where she firmly preferred to be. Wordlessly, she slid into the car and clicked her seatbelt as Léo shut her door and got into the driver’s seat. As he started the ignition, he continued talking.
‘I think we got off on the wrong foot. If we are to be in close proximity, and you are to help us with our website, we need to try to get along, no?’
‘Yes, I suppose so. I doubt we’ll see that much of each other, though; I’m going to be frantic with work.’
‘As am I, so you are probably right.’
Good, she was glad they’d got that straight.
‘Which is a shame.’
She glanced at him out of the side of her sunglasses. His eyes were on the road, and he had a small smile –smirk– on his face. Wordlessly, she turned to look out of the side window at the green scenery flashing past, and they remained in silence for the rest of the journey. When they arrived at Feywood, Léo was quicker than her and was already bearing her suitcase off towards the stable block before she could stop him. She felt fury rising inside her at his peremptory manner and walked at her own pace, rather than scurrying to catch up with him. She wouldnotbe railroaded by another man, fooled and confused into submission and gratitude by gentlemanly gestures. A full minute later, she strolled in and up the staircase, where she found him waiting on the tiny landing beside the newly installed and firmly locked door.
‘Thank you for carrying my suitcase, but I can take it from here.’
He shrugged and squeezed past her on the small staircase. She caught a delicious scent of a light cologne mixed with some sort of herb and a faint waft of garlic, which she loved. Mingled in was a distinct smell of – well, just ofman, and her stomach gave a little tug of pleasure in response to it. She stiffened her back and glared at him even more icily when he spoke.
‘I do not understand why you dislike me so much, Juliet. I am sorry about it. I try to do nice things – to collect you from the station, to carry your bag – but it seems to make things only worse.’
Don’t fall for it, Juliet, you’re being manipulated.
His face looked open enough, and for a moment she felt bad that she had upset him, but then she remembered all the times she had taken the blame for Toby’s sorrows, and where that had got her. The chink in her armour clanged shut.
‘I’m…sorry you feel that way. Thank you for your help.’
She pulled a key from her pocket, opened the door and slipped into the room without looking back at him. Gazing around the light-filled space, Juliet felt a sense of relief and peace flood her. Although there were boxes to be unpacked, the furniture she had either bought or had sent from her studio was in place and the big bed had been assembled. The builders had sent photos of the bathroom, but this was the first time she had seen it for real, and she pushed open the door to admire the tiny space with its glass-walled shower, white sink and loo and neat little cabinets. Content, she returned to the main space to start unpacking and creating her new life.
By the evening, Juliet had not only straightened out the flat, making the bed with brand-new linen, positioning her drawing table just so by one of the sloping windows and arranging the sofa and TV so that another defined little space was created, but she had found an hour to sit quietly with a cup of tea and just gaze at the view. The windows looked out over the lawn and down to the wood that lay at the bottom, with the fields and towns beyond just discernible. It was mesmeric, and deeply relaxing, and she suddenly felt full of good resolutions: to work tirelessly and enthusiastically, to take walks through the dew at dawn and maybe – just maybe – to give Léo another chance.
At seven, she reluctantly pulled the door shut behind her and walked up to the main house, where she knew she was expected for supper. Feeling oddly shy, she slipped in through the boot room and pushed open the sitting room door.
‘Juliet! You’re here.’
Juliet smiled. Trust Martha not to have realised; she would have been lost in one of her detailed portraits, unaware of the time or any of the comings and goings of the household around her.
‘Yes, I’m here, hello everyone.’
Supper was a large gathering at Feywood, and everyone currently living there was expected to turn up, although a kindly eye was turned towards forgetful artists who wandered in late or not at all. Today there was just Martha and Frankie, Rousseau, Sylvia, Will and, of course, Léo. Juliet nodded around at them all and went to join Frankie who was the only one not in conversation; instead, she was tapping away at her phone.
‘Sorry, Juliet, won’t be long. I’m exchanginghair-raising texts with my new man. I’ll just finish this one and then I’ll put it away – it’ll do him good to wait for me.’
She pressed ‘send’ with a flourish and then stuffed the device down the side of the sofa.
‘So, how are you settling in? Did Luscious Léo come and pick you up from the station? He wasverykeen to beat off all the competition – well, when I say “competition”, Will offered, but probably just to be polite. Don’t you think he’s gorgeous? I’d have a crack at him myself if it wasn’t for this hottie.’
She gestured vaguely towards the buried phone.
‘Shh, he’ll hear you,’ hissed Juliet, then whispered, ‘No, I do not think he’s gorgeous, I think he’s bloody pleased with himself, and a bossy-boots.’
Frankie flicked an eyebrow at her sister but replied in a lowered voice, ‘Oh yes, I forgot you don’t go in for any sort of chivalry after that nasty bastard, Toby. I can’t blame you, I suppose, but he was really oily. Léo’s masculine – he has just the right sort of arms for swooning into.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous.’ Juliet knew Frankie was winding her up but reacted anyway. ‘I’m not looking for a man and certainly not some sort of archaic Romeo who thinks all women want is to be told what to do. If –if– I ever get involved with anyone else, it will be someone who sees and respects me first and foremost as a person, not a girlfriend or a wife.’
‘Doesn’t sound exactly brimming with passion, but whatever floats your boat. Oh look, it’s time to go in.’
