Chapter Fifteen

It didn't take her long upstairs. She took a clean duvet cover out of Chris' airing cupboard and shook it out. She then proceeded to empty the en-suite of her toothbrush, hairbrush, hair drier, straighteners, odds and ends of make-up — in fact, everything that spoke of her, Kate Howard.

She dropped the items one by one into the duvet cover and systematically eradicated, properly, any further hint of her ever having being part of Chris's home life. She moved into the bedroom, feeling strangely disconnected. She opened the wardrobe and took her few bits of clothes out, not even bothering to fold them as they joined the toiletries in the vast cotton depths. The chest of drawers was next. Out came her underwear; knickers, bras, tights. Everything. She turned back to the wardrobe and took her shoes out of the bottom — just a couple of dressy pairs that served no real purpose at Hartsford; the stilettos from the Great Cumberland Hotel night were tossed in with a pair of diamante studded sandals, some rainbow-coloured flowery flip-flops she'd bought on a whim at Camden Market and some cosy slippers that she'd purchased last winter and forgotten about.

She looked around the room, and saw the messy, unmade bed that indicated something raunchy had taken place not so long ago; seeing the hard, masculine edges to the furniture that spoke so clearly of Chris. There was a mobile phone dock on the bedside table; a phone was in it — a top of the range iPhone that so did not belong to Chris. A laptop bag tucked on the window seat; piles of paperwork strewn around; a linen pencil skirt and matching jacket, ever so tiny, lying on a chair. How had it ever come to this? At what point had it started to go wrong?

She thought the moment she made the decision to move to Hartsford had probably pushed it over the edge. She knew now, without doubt, that he had never had any intention of moving to Suffolk with her, and if she was honest, she had always known she had no intention of ever moving back to London.

He had felt sort of safe and sort of at a distance and it worked well because she didn't — and hadn't for a long time — want him around full time.

Truthfully, it was easier to be an afterthought. It suited her to see him so infrequently. She knew she didn't want to marry him. They'd had fun, in the beginning; they'd enjoyed each other's company. But it wasn't enough. Kate knew she deserved more. And she would never get that from Chris. She didn't even want to get that from Chris.

Then, from outside: ‘Babes, I got the coffees! Open up, Babes!'

Babes ? What was it with him? Did he just forget their names and go for the generic option instead?

There was a rap on the door, and, being in the front bedroom, Kate heard his voice quite clearly as he shouted at Saffy again to unlock. She wondered whether she should do it — whether she should race down and fling the door open and go ‘Surprise!' and watch him wear the coffee as it upended over him in shock. But she wasn't that cruel.

And besides: he hadn't even noticed her car outside, had he? He had, instead, Saffy, hanging around inside; and soon she would be joined by coffee, making up one neat package.

Kate waited, her heart pounding, until she heard Saffy pad along the hallway. The door clicked and opened and before she could speak, Chris barrelled in. ‘I was right, they did the Eggs Benedict to take away. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Then maybe we could go for round two afterwards?' There was a throaty, sexy timbre to his voice that just irritated Kate.

‘Chris,' Saffy interrupted in a lowered voice, ‘Kathryn's here. She knows.'

‘Kathryn?' There was a half-second where Chris seemed to try and place the name. ‘God, you mean Kate! Oh hell .' He swore, loudly.

‘Oh, don't panic. I'm just leaving!' Kate yelled down from the top of the stairs. She didn't bother to hide the disdain in her voice. ‘You've actually made this a hell of a lot easier for me. I came down here to break it off with you, and as far as I'm concerned, that's done now. You can keep your Eggs Benedict and Saffy and everything else you hold dear. And by the way, I hate olives. And I bloody hate peanuts. And I would hate you, but I can't be bloody bothered.'

She began to head down the stairs and dragged the duvet cover behind her like a low budget Santa Claus. She hefted it up in both hands to show them. ‘It's all my stuff, I promise. I haven't taken any of yours, Chris.'

‘Your stuff?' Chris looked up at her, still holding his takeaway breakfast items. ‘Look, I can explain—'

‘Don't bother.' Kate cast a glance at Saffy who blanched. ‘I'll dump it in my car and you can have the duvet straight back. Enjoy your lattes and your hedge funds and "round two" or whatever you're doing today. Here.' She dropped the duvet and fumbled for her keys. She tugged his set off her keyring and handed them to him.

Finally, it was done. And finally, she could move on.

* * *

It was late afternoon when Kate got back to Hartsford. She drove into the car park and, shattered as she was from the long drive, her heart skipped a beat. There was a van there — Theo's van — and that meant Theo was here as well. Here to see her? She couldn't take her eyes off his vehicle as she pulled the handbrake on, and ran out of the car towards the museum. It was closed today — he had to be here to see her!

Just as she reached the building, he came around the corner, white-faced. His keys were in one hand and his mobile phone in the other. He pulled up short at the sight of her.

The smile died on her face as his blank eyes fixed on her.

‘Theo. What's happened?'

He shook his head. ‘I have to go. It's an emergency.'

‘Theo! But — I've just come back from Chiswick. I've finished it with Chris and I wanted to see you. Your van's here — why? Why are you leaving?'

‘Kate.' His eyes finally focussed on her and he rested his laden hands on her shoulders. ‘I'm sorry.' He leaned down and kissed her, almost apologetically. It was a very different kiss to the one last night; but it still did indescribable things to her insides that made her want to hang onto him and never let him go.

‘Theo?' Kate was confused and she started panicking. Had she misread everything? It was almost as if he was kissing her goodbye.

‘I should have told you earlier.' He dropped his gaze and took a deep breath, then looked at her, a world of pain in his eyes. ‘I've got a daughter. She's called Poppy — she's two.' A smile flickered, then faded. ‘It's complicated. But I need to get back to her and her mother, Lori. Really, I'm sorry.'

His hands dropped from her shoulders, and he paused, as if he was going to say something else. Then he turned and ran towards his van. Within seconds, it was roaring into life and had disappeared out of the car park, leaving Kate staring after it, feeling as if her world had just disintegrated around her.

* * *

Theo had never packed up a tent so quickly or so messily in his life. When the message had come through, he felt sick; absolutely sick to his stomach. God knew how he got back to Derbyshire in one piece, but he did.

He unlocked the house and let himself in, standing in the hallway, listening to what he hoped would be silence, with no sound of a toddler anywhere near the place.

‘Sorry, Theo.' His friend Jared said, coming up behind him. ‘I just thought you needed to know.'

Theo nodded, moving through to the lounge, his eyes scanning the tiny room. His gaze settled on the side table where the baby monitor usually was. The area was clear and he swore. He ran out of the room and took the stairs two at a time. He opened Poppy's bedroom door, and saw the little girl sitting up in her bed, looking white and terrified, her covers pulled up around her.

‘Daddy!' her face lit up with relief and she wrangled her arms out of the duvet-tent and held them out to him. Theo was there in a second, picking her up and holding her close; smelling her soft hair and her baby skin. He closed his eyes, and tried to control his voice.

‘Poppy, sweetie. Where's Mummy?'

‘Out.'

He opened his eyes and saw the other half of the baby monitor on her dressing table.

‘Where is she, sweetie? Who's she out with?'

The little girl thought for a minute, then shrugged. ‘Not know. Out. Daddy, I no like porridge.' She shook her head sadly, as if it had just occurred to her this was a vitally important thing to tell her father in case she had the misfortune to be offered it any time soon.

‘I know, I know. Porridge is nasty. Yuk.' He pulled a comical face and she laughed, snuggling into him and sighing.

‘Daddy. Where Mummy? I no sleep.'

Theo looked at Jared, who had come up the stairs behind him. ‘Where did you say you'd seen her? The Angler's Arms?'

Jared nodded. ‘That's where she was when I saw her. I don't know where she went after that. She said you were home, and you had Poppy. Then I saw Jake later on, and he said he'd asked you to do a favour down in Newmarket. So, yeah, I guessed I'd better let you know.'

Poppy was watching the conversation sleepily. She popped her thumb in her mouth and nodded, speaking around the little pink digit. ‘I has biscuits and milk but it messy.'

‘Oh, Poppy.' Theo saw the remains of a packet of chocolate digestives on the floor, and an upturned cup of milk. ‘Come on, let's see where Mummy is.'

Jared glowered, apparently thinking of Lori. ‘She can't be far, can she? I would have broken in, mate, if I'd had to. I would have got Poppy for you.'

‘I know. See, the thing is, Lori thinks it's fine.' Theo laughed, bitterly. ‘She reckons if she's got the baby monitor, she can hear if there's a problem and come straight back.'

Jared raised his eyebrows and whistled through his teeth. ‘D'you think she ever has?' he asked sarcastically.

‘No. She doesn't seem to understand the concept of distance between the two halves of the monitor — or charging it up. Or even losing the damn thing. She swore to me this wouldn't happen again. I trusted her. But then — she told me what right did I even have, so what the hell could I do?'

‘You reckon she fell off the wagon again?'

‘Big time.' Theo cuddled Poppy closer. ‘Perhaps she never even got on the damn wagon.' The guilt was overwhelming — and also the fact that this time she had been spotted and caught out. How many other times had it happened where she hadn't been seen? It didn't bear thinking about.

‘Poppy, does Mummy go out a lot?' Theo asked, closing his eyes and dreading the answer.

‘'Es,' said the little girl, nodding; and her eyes fluttered closed as she dozed off on her father's shoulder.

* * *

Will was reading a letter from his friend Cameron, who had been apprenticed with him to the old smithy in Norfolk, many years ago.

Cameron had emigrated to Europe, and, by way of hard work, dedication and a natural affinity for both people and horses, he now worked with the beautiful white Lipizzaner stallions in the Spanish Riding School, in Vienna. It always made Will smile when he read that — he had never been good at geography, but the idea of a Spanish riding school in Vienna, which even he knew was not in Spain, puzzled him.

Cameron had progressed to training and even riding the horses, and his tales always made Will yearn to see the beautiful animals for himself. Today, in his expansive, cheerful manner, Cameron was encouraging him to come to Vienna and work at the school with him.

We need a bloody blacksmith who bloody well knows what he is doing , Cameron had written, his strong, Scottish accent coming through clearly in the inky, blotched words. Bloody horseshoe fell off during bloody practice last week — impossible bloody rogue they had working that forge!

Will grinned and folded the letter carefully, tucking it in a drawer to answer later. He walked out of the house and whistled to Hector who appeared from a rabbit hole, burrs sticking to his fur, but smiling a greeting nonetheless.

‘Hector, my lad!' Will scolded as he reached down to pick the stubborn seeds out of his fur, ‘I'd be inclined to leave you behind if I went overseas. I can't spend my time fussing you, boy, if I need to shoe those stallions.' He ruffled the dog's fur and headed into the forge. He shovelled some coal onto the fire and wiped his brow as the heat blasted out at him, dampening his hair into curling tendrils.

‘Haddon! William Haddon!' An imperious voice he didn't recognise called from somewhere outside and a horse whinnied. Will frowned. Passing trade wasn't unknown, but those customers rarely knew his name.

‘William Haddon, at your service!' he called as he strode outside. He pulled up short as he saw a tall, dark-haired man astride a horse that he recognised as one of the Earl's hunters.

‘Ah. Good man.' The stranger smiled, but it didn't reach his flinty grey eyes. ‘Check this beast's shoes. I'm going for a hack with MissTredegar and I don't trust it not to lose one on the way. God knows what state they're in.'

The horse shied and whinnied, happy to see Will, and the stranger pulled tightly on the reins, bringing it into order again. ‘Now, please. I would be most grateful.'

Thrown a little, Will put his hand on the horse's neck and crooned something nonsensical to it as he looked over the man's shoulders. Behind him, the sweet palomino mare trotted slowly down from the Hall, Cat sitting on her back. Even from this distance, he could see she wasn't exactly confident. It had been a few months since she had ridden, and personally he thought a hack into the countryside was rather much to expect from her.

As she approached, he could see her face was dark and her mouth was set unhappily. It was a look that spoke of anger, pain and helplessness.

‘Certainly, Sir,' Will said, tonelessly. This man, then, must be Edward Mountfort. The man Charles had told him about.

And the bastard hadn't even waited for her.

‘Will!' Cat's face lightened briefly as she saw him and brought Beauty up beside Mountfort. ‘How lovely to see you today. It's a beautiful morning, is it not?'

‘Aye, MissTredegar, it is.' Had they been alone, Will wouldn't have hesitated to say "even more beautiful now I've seen you, Cat!" But of course he couldn't say that now, could he?

‘We're going for a hack.' She cast a glance at Mountfort. ‘It's the first time I've been on Beauty since . . .' The words trailed off. He knew she had been about to say ‘since you helped me onto her' and he bit his lip. ‘Since the accident,' she amended and looked down; but she wasn't quick enough to hide the colour in her cheeks.

‘Well, you take care, Miss,' he said, his eyes burning into her. ‘I'd hate for anything untoward to happen.'

‘So perhaps it's best you check her beast's shoes as well.' It was a statement, not a request and Will felt his own cheeks flush in anger.

Cat's own anger flared momentarily as she shot a faintly disgusted look at Mountfort. ‘She isn't simply a beast. Her name is Beauty. And the horse you are riding, the one my uncle encouraged you to ride, to escort me today, is called Merlin.'

‘Merlin. Thank you, Catriona.' The man looked over at her and smiled. ‘So perhaps Haddon here can check Merlin and Beauty's shoes before we head off? And perhaps he can be quick about it? Can you, Haddon?'

‘I can, Sir. I'll get to it immediately.' He wanted to punch the man, he really did. And by the look of things, Cat felt the same.

Will bent to his work, anger fuelling his actions. The memory of the letter from Cameron pierced his consciousness like a red-hot poker. He had to answer him. And, may God and Cat forgive him, but he had to answer him quickly.