AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m staying with her.”
Pippa nods,but her frown tells me I’m not all the way there yet. The fewer lies you tell, the less likely you are to get caught, but they’re a bugger to keep track of!
“She letssome of her spare rooms. Like a BnB, but cozier!”
“Excellent.”Pippa shepherds us all to her car. “You could do a lot worse than staying at the Dower House.”
Not many peoplecall it that, but Pippa’s from the Home Counties, so she’sau faitwith the lingo of the (mostly former) landed gentry. Many of the great ancestral homes had a dower house. Once. It’s notsostrange. At least, not for people with rank. I think—hope, fingers crossed—I’m almost home free with my little fib. All I have to do now is make sure Aunt Dottie doesn’t blow my cover.
I ride in the back,Mariano in the front, Pippa at the helm, leaning on her horn through every corner, for no good reason. I keep pinching myself—Mariano’shere.In this car. We’re closer than we’ve ever been. He steals glances at me, but Pippa keeps up a lively patter and demands he hold up his end of the conversation. Their chatter is a combo of shop talk and speculation about where they’ll be sent when they get their permanent assignments forThrills, Spills, & Kills.
“What about you, Lolly?”Mariano arches himself around his seat to look at me, his dark eyes going somehow melty. I wish I could press my lips to his neck, his chin, that mouth. “Where will you go?”
Mummy Dearest wasn’t kiddingwhen she offered me Aspen or Jackson Hole or Dubai or Córdoba. My heart begins to shriek like a balloon losing air because, obviously, with his sick father, Mariano will choose Argentina. But Velveteen is my top priority, and to buy her back I must save everything I make, which means—“I’m hoping to stay in England.”
“Me too.”Mariano practically jumps on the tails of my sentence. “Here, maybe?”
Seeingas I have free board and lodgings, definitely here. We pull up at the Dower House behind a couple of hatchbacks and a Jag. Very swish. I wonder who the Jag belongs to.
Aunt Dottie isat the door shaking hands. I only have one chance to get this right. I hover behind Mariano until it’s my turn to be received, then throw myself at her, hand outstretched. “Hi, you’re so kind to host tea. Ms. Hainbright.” She’s fast on the uptake, my aunt, but is she fast enough? “I’d be thrilled if you called me Lolly. All my friends do.”
She only letsa tiny frown flicker across her face before she offers a “yes, of course, dear,” and with a sweeping hand, invites me over the threshold.
“Gosh,I was telling everyone what a lovely home you have, Miss Hainbright. It’s everything an English cottage should be.” Cottage my arse. “Thank you again for having all of us. It’s so wonderful to know we’re welcome in the community.” If I signal any harder that I am a stranger I’ll probably turn into a frog, so I shut my mouth only to have it drop open as I turn into the dining room.
How on earthhas she pulled this all together in half an afternoon? There are cakes and sandwiches, scones and cream, tea and fruit, all of it ending in a flourish of sherry, “Sweet or dry?” She winks at me as she passes and I know that, at least for this minute, my secret is safe with her.
Which is no small thing,because Mariano lingers just inside the dining room, waiting. For me. He’s hardly taken his eyes off me since we puckered up and kissed. I float towards the buffet, determined not to get cress between my teeth and to find the earliest possible excuse to take him outside and pick up where we left off.
TEA FOR TWO
Mariano Arias. The Dower House. The Cotswolds, England.
“Everything is labeled, so the veggies, vegans, and beegans canmange-tout!alongside the omnivores.” Dottie has swan-shaped menu holders on each table, a card in each beak. There’s a table for the omnivores, another for the vegetarians, and a tiny, sad side table for the vegans. I say tiny, but they have choices—hummus and beans and some small, flat cakes—two I don’t know the names of. It’s just that the other two tables are stacked high with treats that makes their options pale by comparison.
“Good show, Dot! I see you went all out!” Pippa already has a plate in hand and the world’s smallest sandwich in her mouth. “I met this woman who said she recognized me from the vegan group, but I’d never met herbivore. Get it? Her-bi-vore?”
Lolly groans, rather than laughs, but Pippa takes that as full permission to continue down whatever path she’s chosen.
“Can I tell you a vegan joke? I promise it won’t be cheesy!” My sidekick is in good form today, encouraging the students to the tables, asking what they prefer to eat, and handing them plates, which is a good thing because I only have eyes for Lolly, who is nibbling at an egg salad sandwich and trying not to look at me, which melts me. If by melt the British mean get harder.
Don’t look at her. Don’t think about her. Don’t encourage what the Americans call, “the raging hard-on.”Not that it needs any encouragement. A single glance at her and I am back in the barn aisle kissing her. And more.
I can barely believe my luck. I told her what was written on my heart and she—the passionate, laughing one—accepted me almost instantly. How is this my life? Never before have I held such happiness in my heart, and it’s all because of Lolly.
Dottie guides me to the table. “The omnivores can start here with the roast beef and horseradish sandwiches and work their way down the table tomille-feuille,or, for the foreigners in the room, the humble custard slice.” She launches herself at my arm, squeezing it, all smiles. “We’ve established that you’re a rather enthusiastic meat eater, have we not?”
Lolly sputters into her drink.Seriously, don’t look at her.
“If you prefer a little fishy on a little dishy, we have some pescatarian options further down the spread.”
Lolly empties her glass and wipes her lips on a cocktail napkin. I’m aflame but rooted to the spot, imagining my lips on hers, our tongues, her teeth…Oh, not good, Mariano. Don’t think about that mouth.
Lolly sets herself between me and the lady of the house, her breasts brushing my arm, forcing me to jam my hand into my pocket to rearrange myerección. “I’ll see to Mariano, Miss Hainbright. I thought I heard a dog barking somewhere? Perhaps in need of attention?”
“Oh, yes.” The woman rolls her eyes. “I had to lock Mis—” Miss Hainbright stumbles over her words, a strange looking passing between the two women. “I mean… I had to lock my terrier in one of the bedrooms. He growled at the first guests to arrive, my sweet little terror.”
“Ah. Then I won’t worry about the scratching and whining.” Lolly gives a tight smile.
