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Authors: Freda Lightfoot

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BOOK: Larkrigg Fell
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Beth struggled to keep her interest on the baby who gurgled with delight as the water lapped over his chubby toes. But her eyes kept slipping away, fastening with deep and shaming misery upon the two young men as they splashed and chased Sarah, making her squeal and scream, revelling as she always did in an excess of male attention.

 

Lying on her back in the sun, desperately struggling to close her ears to the merriment and her mind to the implications, Beth started when she found Pietro had come out of the water to join her. He shook himself like a dog, flicked back the long black locks, and flung himself down beside her.

‘You no like to swim?’

‘Not today, thanks. But don’t let me stop you. I’m quite happy here.’ Her voice was admirably cool but his presence beside her made her feel oddly light headed.

‘Those two are swimming,’ he said, glaring fiercely out across the water where Sarah and Jonty were racing each other in an unprepossessing crawl. ‘I sit here with you, sì? You don’t mind?’

He couldn’t bear to see them together, she thought, any more than she could bear to watch Pietro with her sister. She could almost feel his gaze burning up the distance between them, wishing Jonty elsewhere almost as badly as she did, if for a different reason. ‘No, of course not. I don’t mind at all,’ she assured him with forced brightness. The urge to do something completely crazy like lean against his broad shoulder, or reach up and kiss his pale pink lips, was almost overpowering. She shifted a few inches away and closed her eyes in quiet despair. Did he think that by sitting with her he made everything right. As if she didn’t realise that really he only longed to be back in the water with Sarah. Then he turned his blue gaze upon her and smilingly made her agony worse.

‘Your sister, she is the beauty, yes?’

‘Yes,’ Beth sighed, smiling quietly. ‘She has always been that.’

‘It troubles you?’

‘Not really,’ she admitted. ‘It’s good to see her happy.’ And she did feel that, deep down, really she did. Sarah had not been herself lately and was in sore need of a holiday. They may not be particularly close but she had agreed to give up the chance of Venice for her sake. Shame washed through Beth at the thought, cleansing away the hot jealousy and leaving her feeling drained and guilty. ‘She is very supportive. I really don’t know how I would manage without her.’

‘And you are happy?’

‘Yes, I’m fine.’ She was, truly she was. If only sometimes she could get out from under her sister’s shadow, or borrow some of Sarah’s effervescent charm.

‘You have the boyfriend, back home in America?’

Panic hit her. She really didn’t want to talk about Jeremy. He was finished, over and done with. ‘No, I’m too busy right now.’

‘But I think you are the sweet and charming one.’

Beth looked up at him, startled. ‘You do?’

He gave a soft chuckle, kissed the tip of his middle finger then placed it on her slightly parted lips. ‘I do,’ he whispered, and his breath on her face sent fresh quivers of longing right down her spine.

‘Oh,’ was all she could manage. For what seemed a lifetime she gazed into his eyes and saw surprise register in their blueness. Did he feel as she did? Would he kiss her? He turned abruptly from her.

‘Come. I teach you to dive, sì?’

‘Oh, I’m not sure, Pietro. Really I…’

‘Do not fear. I will hold you safe.’

Before she knew what was happening, Beth had slipped out of her frock, revealing a modest one piece bathing costume and he was taking her hand and running her down into the water. It was the most glorious moment of her life.

 

The next morning Sarah slept late, then took a leisurely bath, her long hair casually knotted on top of her head, soaping her beautiful body as though there was all the time in the world.

‘We’d agreed to start stripping the walls at Larkrigg today. Wouldn’t it be more sensible to take your bath after we’ve finished the day’s work?’

Sarah screwed up her nose and sank deeper into the hot bubbles. ‘You’re becoming a bore, sweet sister.’

Beth swallowed a burst of impatience. ‘How long are we going to let them stay?’

‘Do we have to decide now? Let’s take things as they come.’

‘But...’

‘Not now, Beth.’

 

In the days following, the two uninvited guests made no move to leave and Sarah was clearly revelling in their attentions. She took them food, begged some old blankets off Sally Ann, flirted outrageously with them both and spent hours wandering off alone with Jonty.

Beth didn’t care to imagine what her twin got up to on those walks, though it worried her enormously. Sarah was so reckless. Often the whole group of them would go, Tessa and Pietro too, but Beth always refused, excusing herself on the grounds that she had work to do on the house. But then, perversely, she would resent it when they took her at her word and left her. All she could do then was try not to think about them, or her sister.

At other times Beth would do her best to join in and not be a spoilsport. Sarah would plan barbecues or pasta parties, borrow Beth’s best shoes or favourite perfume, and they’d try on each other’s clothes and giggle together as true sisters should. But she couldn’t help worrying, and again ventured to express her concern.

‘Do be careful you don’t start getting too keen on this Jonty person.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I said…’

‘I doubt it’s any of your business:’

‘He’s only using you, Sarah. Show some sense. Behave yourself.’

‘How should I behave? All standoffish like you? It’s a free country. I can do what I like. We’re like chalk and cheese, you and I. Life’s fun, why not enjoy it?’ She smiled challengingly at her twin. ‘I’m a big girl now.’

‘They’ll be off on their travels soon. What happens then? You haven’t ... ?’

‘Haven’t what?’

‘You know.’

‘Had sex you mean?’ The chin came up and the blue eyes grew hard as sapphires. ‘What if I said yes?’

‘Then I’d say you were an even greater fool than I imagined.’

‘It really isn’t any of your business, Miss Butter-Wouldn’t-Melt. Be honest, you’d give your soul for the gorgeous Pietro to ravish you.’

Beth flushed bright red. ‘Don’t talk rubbish,’ and flounced off to expend her frustrated energy scrubbing sinks.

Sarah followed, chortling with delight. ‘You spend enough time talking to him. Don’t deny it.’

‘He likes to practise his English. Besides, he’s different from Jonty.’

‘How different?’

‘He’s kind and thoughtful, doesn’t take advantage of people.’

‘You’re jealous.’

Beth savagely attacked the worn stonework of the sink with her scrubbing brush. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s a simple friendship, that’s all.’ In truth, friendship was too strong a word. Beth couldn’t quite make him out. He seemed oddly restrained, almost secretive at times, perhaps rather shy like herself, which made conversation strained and difficult.

At other times he would readily offer to help her clean windows, or scrape paper off the walls, telling her how wonderfully clever she was to decorate a big house by herself. Though he never did very much, at least he offered. No one else ever thought to, so Beth appreciated his kindness.

He’d told her very little about himself, except to say he’d tried several jobs but hadn’t yet found the right one. And his eyes still constantly strayed to Sarah and Jonty, thus increasing her jealousy to fever pitch. Her feelings for Jeremy had been nothing compared to this, which had come quite out of the blue.

‘Hasn’t he even tried to kiss you?’ Sarah teased.

Beth flinched, hating the implication that no man would want to kiss her. ‘I’ve no wish for him to do so.’

‘You’re desperate for him, deep down.’

That was the worst thing about having a twin, Beth decided, even one you didn’t get on with. She could read your mind, ‘Oh, shut up,’ she said. And much to Beth’s annoyance, Sarah walked away, laughing.

 

Jonty Reynolds, in Sarah’s view, was the most exciting man she’d met in a long while. Not as good looking as Frank admittedly, but with a potent undercurrent of danger which excited her. She rather liked his cragginess, his arrogance, and his pulsing energy. She couldn’t keep her hands off him. Nor, satisfyingly enough, could he his from her.

They took every opportunity to slip away into Brockbarrow Wood. Sarah would have liked to take him upstairs into the big four poster bed, had it not been so dusty, and Beth hanging around all the time. Escaping her sister’s eagle eye was the hardest part. She constantly had to think up some excuse to explain where she had been and why. Not that they were ever gone long, for they were both so highly charged it took no time at all.

The excuse today was the need to exercise the dog. In no time they’d lost him, as usual, and since the weather looked uncertain, they went to the small bothy that stood by the tarn.

Once inside it took no more than moments for him to thrust her against the wall and rid her of her restricting clothes. But then if he wasn’t fast enough she did it for him and, frantic with desire, pulled him greedily inside her. His grip upon her was punishing, pounding into her so hard her head banged on the rough stone wall, but she loved it all the more for that. Foreplay, kisses, soft words didn’t interest Sarah. Clasping his head to her breast she threw back her head while he suckled her, moaning with agony. He was a man with energy and skill and Sarah liked that.

But then she wasn’t seventeen any more. And she was on the pill.

 

It was on the eighth day that Pietro made his revelation. They were again by the tarn, their favourite place these lazy summer days. ‘Do you like travelling?’ Beth asked, trying to make conversation. ‘No, not at all.’ His reply surprised her.

‘Then why do you do it?’

He shrugged. ‘Perhaps I did like it, at first. Now it is very tiring. I am glad for a rest.’

‘Glad of a rest.’

He looked down at her. ‘My English is good, yes?’

‘Very good.’ She rolled over on to her stomach and propping her chin in her hand gazed thoughtfully up at him. He seemed more relaxed somehow, today. ‘Is that why you came to England, to improve your English?’

‘It is one reason. This land, it is very beautiful, is it not?’

Beth agreed and smiled at him, and something about his answering smile startled her, melting away all her misgivings and petty jealousies, filling her with uncertainties. The sick feeling was back in her stomach and with it the smallest degree of hope. ‘Are you really Italian?’

‘Yes, and no. Part of me feels English. Now that I am here, there will be no more travelling.’

Beth blinked. ‘You can’t stay, not in our house. Not for long anyway,’ she added, trying to be fair.

Pietro’s lower lip jutted. ‘It is my right.’

‘Your what?’

‘My right. My grandfather, he tella me about all of this. He was born here, so I have the English blood as well as the Italian. Is good, sì?’

Beth sat up very straight. ‘Born here? In Larkrigg Hall? He couldn’t have been. It belonged to my great grandmother and her family before that.’

‘Not here in thees house,’ Pietro conceded, ‘Close by.’

Beth relaxed again with a small smile. ‘So that was why you came to Lakeland? You too are visiting your roots. How lovely. Seems to be fashionable. Everyone’s in the library these days searching out their family tree.’ She lay back on the cropped grass and closed her eyes again, the sun warming the lids, aware of every movement of his body close beside her. She’d probably been worrying unduly. Sarah would flirt for a while. Then she’d quickly tire of the game as she usually did. Willing captives soon bored her. The boys would visit one or two places, search out some ancient ancestry and then leave, like all the other tourists. But did she want Pietro to leave? Or did she want him to stay and be more to her than a friend?

No, she really mustn’t think of him in that way. At least she could stay here for ever, if she so wished. Beth felt a warm glow kindle deep inside.

‘My father was robbed of his inheritance,’ Pietro was saying. ‘It was stolen from him.’

‘Oh dear.’ Her lids felt far too heavy to open so she didn’t bother to try. ‘How very sad.’

‘His papa let himself be beguiled by an ambitious woman. So now it is lost to my family for ever.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You know of it, I think. It is called Broombank.’

Her whole body jerked and her eyelids flew open. ‘What did you say? Broombank? Our Broombank?’

He was nodding and smiling at her, as if it were a great joke. ‘Funny, huh? Thees house of your grandmama’s, it should be mine, you understand? So why should you not let me stay in your house for a while? It is only fair, sì?’

‘Why didn’t you tell us right away?’

Sarah had been brought over, and even she looked stunned by this revelation. Tessa sat quietly playing with James, not taking part in the conversation, considering it none of her business but staying close by in case the girls should need moral support. Jonty, still sitting on the blanket by the edge of the tarn, brought out a mouth organ and started to play, When I Need You.

BOOK: Larkrigg Fell
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