Stefan sighed. Seeing Hardy reminded him that he should have probed harder about how Cassie’s meeting with him in Keswick had gone. She had looked unsettled, worried even, the night before, and perhaps it had something to do with Charlie’s estate manager. He also wanted to tell her his theory about Darren Morse even if it was only a hunch and he didn’t have any proof.
He sat back and sipped his glass of water. The meal had been nice enough, and he’d enjoyed listening to Joseph Bell’s silly jokes, but now he longed to be back at Belthorn and enjoy the peace and silence of the manor house that had become his haven.
The weather had been bright, and after Cassie had left to get ready for the wedding ceremony at the village church, and then the lunch at a nearby exclusive hotel, he had walked around Wolf Tarn and the abbey, all the time thinking about the story she had told him. What had really happened that Christmas Eve? Cassie may claim otherwise, but it must have been some kind of dream or the police divers and mountain rescue teams would have found a body in the tarn.
As he walked around the ruins, he tried to imagine Belthorn as it had been in its heyday, before Henry the Eighth ordered it to be destroyed.
The abbey was on a small scale, and not much of it was still standing – the church’s north and south transept walls with their arched windows, parts of the cloister and what must have been the dormitory and living quarters. From there, it took him less than two minutes to walk to Wolf Tarn, and he stood on the pebbly shore, looking at the water that mirrored the blue sky and the snowy mountains around. It was a perfect setting on a perfect day, yet he hadn’t exaggerated when he’d told Cassie that he found the small, round lake eerie. Finding out that Ruth Merriweather had drowned there made it even more sinister.
In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if her great-great-aunt’s death hadn’t preyed on Cassie’s mind as she stood on the shore that fateful Christmas Eve. Miss Parker’s words about the story behind the young woman’s drowning came back to him. He needed to pay the retired headmistress another visit, and ask her about the abbey and Belthorn… and about Ruth’s death, and if she was willing to reveal what she knew.
‘Stefan! The DJ is playing one of my favourite songs. Come and dance with me.’ Cassie tapped him on the shoulder, her beaming smile as usual filling him with joy and that primal, elusive feeling that threatened to turn him into a gormless ape man every time he was near her, and that he was trying hard, but unsuccessfully, to fight. He wished he could go all Tarzan on her, throw her over his shoulder and take her back to Belthorn to make love to her all night, not shuffle his big feet on a dance floor like the clumsy oaf he was and make a spectacle of himself.
‘I’m not much of a dancer,’ he objected.
‘Who cares? Come on,’ she urged, pulling on his hand.
So he rose to his feet and let her lead him to the dance floor. The song was another slow dance, so he wrapped his arms around her waist, and she knotted her fingers behind his neck. She looked lovely, with her hair loose and shiny on her shoulders, and wearing a dress the same pale grey as her eyes. The silky shift glided under his fingertips, reminding him of the texture of her skin. Then again, he liked her in her dungarees too… but he liked her best when she wore nothing at all.
They didn’t talk as they slowly swirled to the music. Her face nestled against his chest, her hair tickled his chin, her body moved in his arms. It was bliss, and it felt like his heart sang along with the music.
‘I wanted to be with you all evening,’ she said as the music ended, ‘but I had to talk to family members I hadn’t seen in ages, then Rachel asked me to mind the boys… and then you’ll never guess what happened.’
The music merged into another slow dance. ‘Let’s go out for a minute,’ she said, dragging him towards the exit. ‘I have something exciting to tell you. I wanted to tell you yesterday but somehow didn’t get round to it.’
A bulky figure stood in their way. ‘Not so fast,’ Piers Hardy said in a loud, slurred voice. ‘Can I have a dance, Cassie, or do you keep them exclusively for your punters?’
Hardy staggered and grabbed Cassie’s bare arm.
Stefan stepped forward. ‘Let go, Hardy.’
The man’s face turned a violent shade of beetroot, a mean smile twisted his mouth, but he released Cassie, who stepped back and came to stand right next to Stefan, close enough for her hip to brush against his.
Hardy sneered. ‘Poor sod. You really have no idea, do you?’
Stefan frowned. ‘No idea about what?’
‘About being Charlie’s charity case. Cassie is only sucking up to you to make sure you give her a good report. You can’t blame a girl for wanting her bonus. Two thousand pounds isn’t something to be sniffed at. I’m sure Cassie is working her butt off for it – literally.’
Stefan clenched his fists, and turned to Cassie. ‘Bonus? What bonus?’
Hardy laughed – a slow, slimy laugh. ‘Hasn’t the minx told you? You see, your mate Charlie promised Cassie a bonus if you were satisfied with her services and wrote a good report at the end of your stay. He must know that with the way you look, you need to pay to get laid, and he asked our Bluebell fairy to come to your rescue, and bring a smile to your ugly face with a bit of dusting, a bit of cooking and a bit of f—!’
Cassie slapped Hardy’s cheek, hard. He brought his hand to his face, and narrowed his eyes. ‘You’ll pay for that.’
Stefan stepped in front of Cassie and scowled at Hardy. ‘You’d better leave us now,’ he said between clenched teeth, ‘because I’m going to carry on what Cassie started, and I promise you won’t be standing when I finish with you.’
Hardy took a step back and spat, ‘Ah… You think she gives you jokes to cheer you up, you poor bastard. You don’t even realise you’re the joke.’
With a last snicker he tottered away, and Stefan turned to Cassie. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
She followed him into the lobby of the clubhouse, which thankfully was empty. He crossed his arms, looked down into her face. ‘Is that true?’
Cassie smiled, but it wasn’t her usual smile. It was reticent and timid, and he knew then that Hardy had spoken the truth.
‘Charlie promised you a bonus for looking after me,’ he said in flat voice.
‘Yes, but I don’t see why it makes any difference between us. I mean, it’s not like Piers says at all, I didn’t…’
It was like a fist slamming into Stefan’s chest. How was it possible to go from feeling on top of the world happy to cut into shreds in less than five minutes?
‘It makes all the difference to me,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Don’t tell me that you believe that I slept with you only for that bonus Charles promised! What do you take me for?’
Hardy’s words had hit a raw nerve, opened an abyss of doubt inside him, and now he didn’t know what to believe. He couldn’t even think straight.
The door to the clubhouse opened and Nathan Hardman walked in. ‘Cassie! I was looking for you. Are you ready to leave? I’ve cleared it with the boys. They’re staying a while longer, so we should have the cottage to ourselves for a while.’
Cassie’s face coloured. ‘Give me five minutes, Nathan. I need to talk to Stefan first.’