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“Not right now. She’s having a smoke ‘round the side.”
Luca nodded. “I see.”
“So I’ve moved on as well. It’s not just Bronte.”
Luca lifted a brow and infused his tone with as much condescension as he could muster. “Is it a competition?”
Ashton’s cheeks went dark purple. “No, I just –,”
Luca shook his head. “I know for a fact I make Bronte happier than she’s ever been. If some other woman is doing that for you, then I’m sure Bronte would be pleased. You’re in her past, Ashton.”
“And you’re her future?”
Luca felt the ground becoming dangerous and was mindful of not backing Bronte into a corner from which escape was difficult. “I’m her present.” He winked. “And that’s much more fun.”
He walked away before Ashton could offer a response, whistling a little as he neared the grand old house of Athelston Park Estate. As he came to the front steps, a woman walked out, with dark hair and grey eyes.
“Oh, hi.” There was a harried tone to her voice. “Are you with the wedding party?”
“Yes.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”
“I – yes, fine,” she shook her head. “We’ve just had a helicopter land in the East field, apparently a guest of the wedding. Some Sheikh or something?”
She looked at him as though he’d know something about it, but of course, he didn’t. “Can I help you?”
She furrowed her brow then laughed, a pretty, musical sound. “No, that’s not your problem. Let’s just hope all the bleeding roses aren’t traumatised by the propeller wind.” She lifted her eyes heavenwards. “I’m Beth, by the way. My sister Jane and I run Athlestone Park.”
He looked up at the grand stone building. “It’s a beautiful house.”
“Thank you.” She mirrored his gaze. “I think so. Then again, we’ve lived here all our lives so I suppose I could be biased.”
“You grew up here?”
“Mmm, it’s been in our family for generations.”
“How long have you been renting it out as a venue?”
Her expressions shifted, small lines denoting stress forming around her eyes. “About six years.”
“Six years?” He studied the woman more carefully. She looked to be in her early twenties. “You must have still been at school.”
She winced. “Our mother passed away unexpectedly. She left the place to us and with it came a huge inheritance tax. The income from weddings helps.”
“Ah.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m giving you my life story. Did you need something? From the house?”
“I’m going to do some work in my room,” he explained.
“Parties aren’t my scene either,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose. “Give me a good book and a long country walk any day.”
She lifted a hand in farewell, the harried look returning as she turned, steaming off towards, he presumed, the East fi
eld.
He didn’t give her another moment’s thought. His entire mind was caught up in the pleasures awaiting him, when Bronte arrived…
10
