AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Oh, it’s marvellous,’ Dervla said. ‘They’ve started work on repairing and updating the stable block and the training facilities this morning. They even got an architect in to do designs for the remodelling. Can you believe it?’ Dervla’s voice was hushed with awe. ‘I didn’t even know there were architects for horse barns. Did you? It’s gas.’
‘Where are the horses while all this is going on?’ Orla asked. She hadn’t expected them to start work so soon. The stables had been in desperate need of repairs, that was true, but didn’t the new manager know they had to be careful not to disturb the horses? These were thoroughbred, highly strung animals and any noise or disruption could seriously damage their—
‘They’re stabling them at the Quinns’ until the work is finished,’ Dervla interrupted Orla’s panicked thoughts. ‘They moved them all yesterday.’
‘Oh, I see, that makes sense.’ Orla frowned, the twist of disappointment in her belly making her feel small and petty. Why should she begrudge her neighbours the business, just because Patrick had acted so appallingly at the ball? Karim had no loyalty to her, not really, especially where his business was concerned. ‘I expect the Quinns’ll be glad of the business,’ she added, knowing the family had struggled in recent years because their horses hadn’t had the same results as Calhouns on the track.
‘I expect they would if they still owned the place,’ Dervla said.
‘What?’ Orla asked.
‘Didn’t I tell you already? Someone bought their business in a hostile takeover… And kicked them off the land. Two days ago.’
‘No, you did not mention it,’ Orla said, her fingers gripping the handset. How could Dervla have forgotten to mention something so important? The Quinns had been a premier Kildare racing family for generations, just like the Calhouns.
‘Ah, damn, I meant to tell you all about it yesterday. It was all over the pub on Sunday night, happened very suddenly, Maeve said. Her husband works at Quinns, you know. Apparently they kept all the staff on. Even increased their wages as a loyalty bonus. Maeve said Dermot’s pleased, he thought Patrick had been running the place all wrong for years. The new owner’s already made improvements.’
‘Who is the new owner?’ Orla asked, shocked despite the fact she would have agreed with Dermot on Patrick’s handling of the stud since he’d taken over.
‘Didn’t I tell you now, the best bit of gossip?’ Dervla said, her voice rising with excitement.
‘No, what?’ Orla asked, thinking her sister was going to give her an aneurysm if she didn’t get to the point.
‘So no one knows who the new owner is for sure—it was all done in a secret sale. But the very next day, Carly, the new manager here, announced Calhouns horses were being rehoused there, during the remodelling, so everyone got to thinking, it must be him.’
‘Him who?’ Orla asked, thoroughly frustrated now. Why couldn’t Dervla ever give her a straight answer about anything without dressing it up in loads of fanciful nonsense?
‘Him as in your fiancé. Maeve and Dermot and everyone else think he’s the new owner for sure.’ Dervla’s voice lowered with even more unnecessary drama. ‘And that he probably did it for revenge—isn’t that so cool?’
‘Revenge for what now?’ Orla asked, but the weight in her stomach had already begun to twist and turn at the memory of Karim’s fury, and the words he’d ground out.
‘I’m going to teach that bastard a lesson he won’t soon forget.’
‘Don’t be dense,’ Dervla cut back in. ‘For revenge against Patrick Quinn, of course, for daring to put his hands on you at the ball. And you keep saying he doesn’t love you.’ Dervla scoffed. ‘Why would he do such a thing if he wasn’t mad about you?’
‘That… It can’t be true…’ Orla said, so shocked she didn’t know what to think let alone say—the weight in her stomach now dancing a jig. Would Karim really have done such a thing? He’d talked about retribution at the ball for Patrick’s behaviour, in the heat of the moment, but he’d calmed down once they were in the car on the way home. And after she’d told him an edited version of her break-up with Patrick, he hadn’t mentioned the incident, or her former fiancé, again.
What shocked her more though was the spurt of something heady and exciting at the thought he might have done such a thing for he
r. But as soon as she acknowledged the feeling, she felt ashamed of it.
If Karim really had done this, it wasn’t because of his feelings for her, because he clearly didn’t have any. He’d barely acknowledged her presence in the last week. She hadn’t even seen him for three days now. In truth, he didn’t even seem interested in maintaining the charade any more that they were actually an item.
And while it was true Patrick had been unnecessarily cruel to her all those years ago, cheating on her the whole time they were engaged, Karim knew nothing of that. Patrick might have behaved very badly at the ball too, but he’d been drunk. And yes, his family had blamed her for the breakdown of the engagement, but did they really deserve to lose a family business they’d spent years building because Patrick had had one too many whiskies?
‘Well, I reckon it’s true. And I think it’s super romantic,’ Dervla added, unhelpfully. ‘It’s just what Patrick deserves—he was never as good with the horses as you are. And he knew it, that’s why he was so mean to you. And now he’s out of racing for good. No one will give him a job if they think your fella won’t like it. So he’ll have to find something else to be bad at. At least you won’t ever have to see him at another official event. Are you sure you don’t know anything about it? I told Maeve I’d ask you.’
It took several minutes of deflecting Dervla’s increasingly probing questions, but Orla finally managed to get her sister off the phone. She put the receiver down, her fingers trembling as the confusion and anxiety built under her breastbone and began to tangle with the weight in her stomach.
Surely Karim couldn’t have done something so… Well, so vengeful? And for a woman he didn’t really care about. It made no sense. But even as she tried to reassure herself, her heart began to beat two to the dozen.
Should she ask him? If he had bought Quinns? How could she not? And yet how did she even bring up a question like that? When the last thing she wanted to do was discuss Patrick with him again? And, anyway, when was she even likely to see him next?
She stared at the phone she’d been given by his personal assistant a week ago, a phone that was supposed to alert her to any events she might need to attend with Karim. The phone that hadn’t rung or buzzed once since he’d insisted she stay in London—and then given her nothing to do.
She picked it up and scrolled through the numbers stored in the contacts. There were only two. One listed Khan—which had to be Karim. And the other with the name of the personal assistant. She didn’t quite have the guts to ring Karim and ask him outright. But would it be so wrong to find out from the personal assistant where he was today?
She called the number. The assistant picked up on the second ring.
