Chapter Seven

Kate's cheeks were burning. Had she really just suggested a snack to a complete stranger?

It's not a snack, it's a feast , a little voice told her; and he's not a stranger .

Regardless, she took the steps up to her flat two at a time in case she suddenly began to regret her offer. She grabbed two mugs from the dresser and flicked the switch on the kettle to boil. She put a teabag in Theo's mug.

Will likes his tea strong. Don't forget, it's three spoonfuls of sugar and a fair drop of milk.

The cheese on toast, meanwhile, was bubbling away nicely under the grill and she slathered a good dollop of Worcestershire sauce onto both their suppers. It's not to everyone's taste, but we both like it. He introduced me to it and I—

‘Stop it!' Kate dropped the spoon into the sink and pressed her hands over her ears, muffling the clatter. She clearly hadn't woken up yet — her subconscious was still in the dream and she was still in — well — in a relationship with Blacksmith Will. No, she wasn't; it was Cat. But how was it possible for her to know that? This was really creeping her out. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she opened her eyes, flung the kitchen window wide and leaned out. Theo was standing in her garden, his hands clasped behind him, staring out at the fields and the river.

‘How do you like your tea?' she shouted. She was steadying herself by holding onto the window frame and therefore he wouldn't be aware that she was crossing her fingers, half-dreading the answer.

Theo turned and looked up. ‘Quite milky. Fairly strong. Three sugars.'

Kate swallowed. ‘Great. And you do like Worcestershire sauce, don't you?'

‘I love that stuff!' he called back. ‘Thanks.' He smiled and her tummy did a funny little leap thing.

‘Me too.' Kate was fairly certain that came out in a squeak, but Theo didn't seem to notice if it had. ‘I'll be down in a second.' She was sure her smile was brittle as she closed the window and leaned against the counter, staring at the cups — the perfect tea and the cheese on toast just how he liked it.

‘Good grief.' The smile slid off her face. She wasn't quite sure where this was going. Her gaze travelled across to the corner of the room where a light on the laptop was still blinking, indicating that Chris had possibly left it on sleep mode after he'd used it earlier today. Chris, her boyfriend.

And here she was, entertaining a stranger who was camping up the road, and making him supper exactly as he liked it.

Her hands shook as she carried the tray carefully downstairs and out into the garden. She set it down and Theo came over from the wall.

‘Maeve said it was a lovely spot,' he told her. ‘She said that I should pay a visit here. She didn't tell me the catering rivalled the coffee shop's though.'

‘You know Maeve?' she asked, surprised. ‘Really?'

‘I know her quite well. I met her at the Outer Hebrides dig. I was one of the divers that found the site of the crannog. I had to take her out to the spot in a boat, throw myself into the water and feed some film back to her. That was a wild day — didn't stop raining for hours.'

‘Oh!' Her heart was suddenly lifted. He wasn't a complete stranger then, really. Not if she took a particular view of the situation. He knew Maeve. Maeve had probably mentioned him to her. She'd certainly mentioned the dive. Kate was probably entertaining one of her friends, as a courtesy to her. That sounded better. ‘Didn't she have to huddle under a makeshift marquee on the deck of the boat?' Kate asked, remembering an email Maeve had sent her just before she started the dig.

‘She did indeed. She wasn't very happy about it.'

‘She doesn't like boats much.' Kate settled down with her tea. She picked up a slice of toast and bit into it, the hot melted cheese burning the roof of her mouth a little. ‘Yet she's happy to dig around in holes. I don't get her at times.'

This was much easier — they had common ground. Kate didn't feel quite so disloyal to Chris now — even if she was having awfully interesting dreams about someone who looked awfully like Theo Kent.

* * *

They talked for what seemed like hours. The sun had set completely and the little solar lights she had dotted around came on one by one. There was a string of them along the wall and they looked very pretty, twinkling away.

It was surprising how easily they managed to chat to each other — as if they had known one another for years. Sometimes , Theo thought, you get that though, don't you? A spark of recognition and suddenly you're talking away like old friends. It was like that with her.

At length, and very reluctantly, Theo stretched out in the wooden chair he had been sitting on and sighed. ‘It's time for me to go, I guess. I'm just at that point where I know I have to make a move, because I've got a car to drive back and a sleeping bag to crash into.'

‘Not literally, I hope,' said Kate with a smile. ‘I wouldn't like to think about you physically driving into your tent and annihilating your sleeping bag. There are cows for that sort of thing.'

Theo looked at her, and laughed. ‘Tell me they don't do it on the Hartsford camp site?'

‘All I'll tell you' she said, wagging her finger importantly, ‘is that Hartsford campsite is right next to Hartsford Dairy Farm. Just saying.'

‘Thanks for that! So when I'm trampled in my sleep, it's the dairy herd I have to blame?'

She stood up and stretched. ‘Yep. The dairy herd. But don't worry. They tend to get locked up in the evening. You're more likely to be trampled during the day.'

‘That's it, then. I'm investing in a campervan. I'm not going to be party to a cow trampling incident. At least I've only got tonight, then I'm packing up and going home.'

‘You could have pitched up on the field out back.' Kate nodded to the grassy expanse beyond her wall. ‘I suspect nobody would stop you. But there aren't any toilet blocks. And then you'd have to face the rabid ducks instead.'

As if on cue, a cacophony of duck quacking began, then ended shortly afterwards.

‘They're always arguing,' said Kate. ‘They have about three squabbles a night, all around this time, then mainly settle down. I think they fight for the best piece of grass or something to sleep on. Silly birds.'

‘Noisy birds,' Theo said. ‘Well, thank you for the snack. It was just what I needed. That and the chat of course. It was nice to meet you again.'

‘And you.' She smiled again. ‘One day you'll have to come back and see the exhibits you missed.'

‘One day I will. I need to go and keep my clients happy though, so it can't be any time soon unfortunately.' He frowned. ‘In fact, I've got a job tomorrow afternoon, so I'll be making an early start. Yes. I'd best go.'

‘Can't keep clients waiting.' Kate looked at him a little curiously. ‘I didn't ask. Where do you work?'

‘Anywhere that needs me. Riding schools, stud farms, family homes, normal farms. Wherever horses are. Oh — museums. I do museums. Shire horses and Shetlands and pit ponies are ever popular in those places. Animal sanctuaries. There's another one.'

Kate's voice sounded a little strangled when she said her next words: ‘Are you a blacksmith, then?'

‘Almost right. A farrier. I do a little bit of tending to injured feet and limbs as well. A little bit of veterinary care. It's good work. Always busy and very satisfying. It's nice to see the animals running around happily when you've finished with them. My grandfather was a farrier too. I got the bug from him — loved spending time in his forge. It was immensely exciting for a little kid, being allowed to hammer hot metal and make things out of it. Then I like to go diving too when I have free time — that's how I met your friend Maeve. I got the chance to visit Scotland and do some work on the site they discovered. It was incredible. Really fascinating.'

‘I bet it was,' said Kate, faintly. ‘And you sort out injured feet and limbs too. Jolly good. Right! Okay. Have a safe journey home and — well — good luck with the horses.'

‘Thanks. The job's near Malvern, so it's not too far from home.'

‘Lovely. A nice part of the country.'

‘Very nice. Thanks again, Cat.'

He remembered too late he'd called her the wrong name, but she didn't correct him.

She just smiled a little and said, ‘Nice to see you again Theo.'

* * *

Will came out of the forge, stripped to the waist, the sweat standing on his skin. He had a mallet thrown over his shoulder and he had tied his hair back for once. It was a hot day and it was even hotter in the forge.

‘Hello, Blacksmith Will.'

‘Cat!' He saw her sitting on a little wooden stool outside his cottage. She made to stand up, leaning heavily on a stick she'd procured from somewhere.

He was at her side in an instant, throwing the mallet to one side, shrugging his shirt on, taking her hand. ‘What are you doing here? Did you walk here?' He looked around for the Bath chair.

‘I did. Didn't I do well?' She smiled up at him as he supported her and then laughed as he swung her up and cradled her in his arms.

‘What have I told you?' he asked, teasing. ‘Come on. Shall we go to the river? It's so hot, we can maybe find a patch of shade up there.'

‘I have the most terrible urge to dip my toes in the water,' Cat said. ‘Shall we?'

‘I don't see why not. I'll take you to the stepping stones. We can sit on those.'

He carried her around the side of the cottages and was gratified to feel her arms tighten around his neck. It stirred all sorts of dangerous feelings up and he tried not to think about what his body was urging him to do. That wasn't seemly and he could never think of her like that. Not until—

He forced his mind to stop that train of thought. He had been about to add the words ‘after they were wed'. He shouldn't be so daft. She'd never think of him like that.

‘Here we go,' he said, eventually setting her down. ‘Can you stand?'

‘Of course I can stand!' she almost scoffed, but he saw her face blanch as her leg gave way a little. ‘Come on. Help me onto the stones.'

She held her hand out and he took it, leading her towards the lazy current and the sun-warmed stepping stones. ‘You've done too much,' he scolded her. ‘What devil took you, that you might decide to walk all the way down here?'

‘You. You're the devil,' she replied, teasing. ‘I can't stay away from you.'

‘I hope you're not blaming me.' He laughed. ‘I've been naught but an angel with you.'

‘Very true. Shall we sit here?' She manoeuvred herself into a sitting position on one of the wide, square blocks of stone.

Will dropped to his knees on the stone next to her and took her leg gently in his hands. ‘May I? I'll undo your boots, and then you can feel that water on your toes.'

‘Would you? Thank you.'

He carefully unlaced the sturdy little boots and saw with a start that her feet were bare inside them.

‘It was simply too hot for stockings,' she said, blushing.

‘Makes no difference to me. How does that feel?'

‘So much better.' She shuffled around and dipped her feet into the water. ‘Oh! Oh, that's wonderful.'

Will shuffled into a sitting position too, and pulled his boots off. He put his feet in the water next to hers and they sat, enjoying the water flowing over their skin, listening to the distant noises of animals in the fields and the lazy breezes rustling the top of the trees.

‘I could stay here forever,' said Cat on a sigh. ‘It's just perfect.' She leaned forward and scooped up a handful of water. Letting it dribble through her fingers, she moved her feet and swirled the water around.

Will leaned down too and stared into the crystal depths. ‘When I was a boy, I used to tickle trout. In a river just like this, near the Malverns. I lived with my grandparents, and my grandfather gave me his love of horses. He apprenticed me to a blacksmith in Norfolk, who already had a Scottish lad working for him — Cameron, who was coming to the end of his learning. After my apprenticeship was done, I worked in Norfolk for a time; then I came here.'

‘I don't quite know where I belong,' said Cat, ‘but I like to think I belong here. My family officially lives near Primrose Hill in London. Our illustrious neighbours have included poets and photographers galore.' She smiled and looked up at Will. ‘SirHugh Clough? Roger Fenton?'

Will shook his head blankly. ‘No. I don't know them.'

‘No matter.' Cat returned her attention to the water while Will cringed a little inside. Should he know about poets and photographers to move in Cat's world? ‘I know of Byron,' he said suddenly. ‘And Keats. Shelley.'

‘The Romantics. I adore their work.'

Will squirmed in case she pressed him for more information. He knew a few lines of each poet, at the most — apart from one. His heart pounded — he hoped he could remember it properly.

‘"The fountains mingle with the river",' he began slowly, ‘"And the rivers with the ocean. The winds of heaven mix for ever, With a sweet emotion".'

Cat looked up at him, a spark of respect in her eyes. ‘Shelley. Love's Philosophy . Go on.'

He smiled, the words coming more easily from some long-buried memory of school days. ‘"Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine, In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?—"'

He felt himself colour. Cat's hand crept over to his, and she took up the words where he left off. ‘"See the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven,If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea: What is all this sweet work worth,If thou kiss not me?"'

They stared at one another as the words died on her lips. Will found himself leaning down towards her, her little face upturned like a flower, and her eyes fixed on his—

‘Catriona Aphrodite Tredegar!' The voice bellowed from the opposite side of the river, and they pulled apart, Will dropping her hand as if it was a burning coal from his forge. The Earl of Hartsford was standing up in his carriage, screaming at them, while his wife moaned and flapped a handkerchief in front of her face. It would have been bloody comical had it been someone else on the receiving end.

‘Uncle Harry!' Cat stared at them. ‘What are you doing here?'

‘I should ask you the same thing, child! Get in this carriage now. Now !'

‘But—'

‘No buts. You, MrHaddon, should be ashamed of yourself. She's not right in the head, she's clearly still suffering from the accident. I will not have her taken advantage of!' The Earl was ranting on and Will scrambled to his feet, horribly aware of his bare feet. He was just thankful he'd pulled his shirt on.

‘I'm sorry, Sir, she felt a little faint with the sun, and I was trying to help her cool down before I brought her back to the Hall.'

‘Cool down! Good God, man, you're the one that needs to cool down. You—'

‘Papa!' LadyAmelia's soft voice carried across the field and startled them all as she appeared from behind the cottages. ‘How wonderful to see you! We won't have to walk back after all! Here Cat, here are the flowers I said I'd pick for you. I was just around the corner.' She smiled across the river, her dimples appearing innocently and beautifully in her cheeks. ‘You don't think I would have let her come all this way on her own, do you?'

Will stared at the girl, who was indeed clutching a bunch of wildflowers, looking as innocent as a new born lamb.

‘Amelia Violet Hartsford, is that the truth?' The Earl was clearly in a terrible temper if he was giving the girls their full names; but LadyAmelia's presence had already begun to soothe him, and he at least sat down again.

‘Of course it is. Look, Mama, you can have some of these too. There are plenty. I think these ones are meadowsweet.' She buried her nose in a fluffy white plant. ‘Or it may be yarrow. I don't know.'

Will was aware of a movement below him, and he saw that Cat was already forcing her feet back into her boots. ‘I'm afraid I can't get this one on,' she said, struggling with the one she'd broken. ‘My foot is all swollen up.'

‘Oh Cat, I did tell you.' Amelia was there at the edge of the stepping stones. ‘MrHaddon, would you be an absolute darling and help her over the river to the carriage?'

‘Certainly, LadyAmelia.' Will wasted no time in helping Cat to limp across the stones. It seemed to take an inordinately long time as she was having difficulty putting any weight on her leg; but he didn't dare pick her up as he yearned to do.

Once they had Cat in the carriage, Amelia touched his arm. ‘Thank you, MrHaddon,' she said, her bright blue eyes boring into his.

‘No. Thank you , LadyAmelia,' he said. ‘It was fortunate that—' He didn't quite know how to complete the sentence; so Amelia did it for him.

‘—that we decided to come here. I know Cat very well. I knew exactly where she should want to go on her walk.' She lowered her voice so only he could hear. ‘It was doubly fortunate that I decided to follow her, wouldn't you say?'

Will could only nod. He was more than aware of the situation. He went hot and cold, thinking about what might have happened otherwise. He'd be out of work, that was for certain.

He helped LadyAmelia into the carriage, and watched it rumble on its way. Cat turned slightly in the seat and their eyes locked with unspoken emotion until she was out of sight.

Will closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky. If he had a guardian angel, they had been watching out for him that morning; and he'd never been more grateful for anything in his life before.