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‘Look, Rosie, I know this has come as a shock, but if you let me explain…’
‘But that’s not all, is it? Not only are you a local celebrity, you’re aninternationallyrenowned author of multiple cookery books! Oh, how you must have been laughing at my attempts to bake my aunt’s recipes.’ Her heart thrummed against her ribcage as she looked into Charlie’s handsome face, yet realised everything she thought she knew about him was false.
‘I thought you were my friend, Charlie. I thought, at last, I had found someone I could trust, someone who I could lean on as I learned to shrug off my obsession with putting others first.’
‘I am your friend, Rosie. More than that. Please, will you let me explain?’
‘Do I have a choice?’ She felt deflated, all the fight had left her, and she hunched her shoulders as she prepared for the next blow to fall.
‘As Jasper has obviously told you, yes, I have published a few cookery books. It’s my favourite part of this whole manic circus that has become my life. Five years ago, I was offered an audition for a slot on a Saturday morning TV show,The Baking Bazaar, and the craziness just took off. That’s why I come down here inthe summer – to escape the hordes of fans that camp outside my door in Pimlico.’
‘You have fans? There are gastronomic groupies?’
‘Yes, and you wouldn’t believe what some people will do to get to meet me!’
‘Okay, let’s say I can understand that you didn’t want your fame to follow you to Somersby, why didn’t you tell me you lived here, instead of letting me believe you were some kind of kitchen helper and garden herb gatherer?’
Charlie tossed his curls from his forehead, and it was the first time Rosie had noticed a nervous shake of his hand.
‘I told you about my ex-wife, didn’t I? And I remember you asking me why she went through with the wedding when she was in a relationship with someone else. Well, it was because she fancied herself as mistress of the Manor one day. My TV celebrity and my family’s inheritance blinded her to what should be the only reason to get married. Love – that elusive, painful emotion.’
Charlie’s eyes reached deep into Rosie’s soul as he took a deep, steadying breath. ‘Ever since I saw you chucking those scones into the grass at the back of the tent at the village fair, your golden hair flying in the breeze, clad in that ridiculous Barbour, I knew you were special. You had no idea who I was, yet your eyes spoke of an instant attraction. You may not know it, Rosie, but you’re unlike any other woman I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. I hoped we could have a future, but I’ve been burned before, as you know, and I needed to be sure you wanted the real me, not the famous Charles Campbell-Wright.’
‘I don’t know the real you, Charlie – or should I call you Charles now? How can I? You’ve lied to me, concealed your true identity. For all I know you have a bevy of girlfriends waitingfor you with open arms in London, Paris and Berlin. I thought I could trust you and you betrayed me. But never mind, you’re just someone else to add to that lengthening list.’
Charlie stood up from his chair and walked to the fireplace. ‘Everything I did was with the best of intentions, Rosie. You may not believe me, but I never wanted to hurt you. Unlike some people around here.’
‘What do you mean, “some people”?’ She swivelled in her chair to look at his face, distress written clearly across his features.
‘Heard you had a date with Angus last Saturday night? Law Society Ball, no less! Did you have fun?’
‘Yes, surprisingly, I did.’
For heaven’s sake, how did Charlie seem to know everything that went on in her life? And why was she so upset that he knew about her night out with Angus, now that she knew what sort of person Charlie really was.
‘Why don’t you ditch that creep, Rosie? I’ve made some discreet enquiries about this Brian Dixon, too – your prospective purchaser of Willowbrook Lodge? Did you, for instance, know that he is a property developer? That he built a block of eight apartments in Cranbury two years ago.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He purchased a splendid old Georgian house on a large plot of land from an old lady for a song, then went ahead and demolished it despite local objection, and erected the apartment block in the grounds, “accidentally” chopping down two ancient oak trees with Tree Preservation Orders – an action for which he was fined, but of course that’s not the point; doesn’t bring the trees back, does it?’
‘No, it doesn’t – but why are you telling me this?’ Rosie’s irritation with Charlie’s constant interference ballooned.
‘Well, I’m worried, that’s all. Angus only seems to be interested in making money and moving up in the world. I’m concerned about his motives for wining and dining you.’
‘You complete…! How dare you. You don’t know Angus at all. And it’s my decision who I date and, for your information, I’ve chosen to date Angus. Angus has treated me with nothing but respect. In fact, he warned me several times that you were hiding something, and he was right, wasn’t he?’ Her voice had raised an octave. ‘I have no intention of listening to anything else you have to say.’
‘I just wanted us to get to know each other without…’
‘Without being totally truthful with each other? That isn’t how it works, Charlie. If you’re not completely honest, how do you know if anything is real?’
‘That’s a very good question, Rosie. Very insightful. Perhaps you can think on that. And when you have, I’ll be here waiting for you.’
‘I’m not going to think on anything, Charlie.’ With difficulty Rosie extracted herself from her seat and strode to the library door. She turned and glared at him. ‘Who do you think you are? The Director of my destiny?’
Chapter Twenty Seven
Everything was set up for the sale of Willowbrook Lodge. All the paperwork had been signed, ready for the contracts to be exchanged, with the transfer to the new buyer agreed for Thursday the thirty-first of October – only four days away.
