Miranda's Mount (28 page)

The presenter beamed in her face. ‘I hear Lord St Merryn was in the stocks. Was that a highlight of the day?’

‘It certainly raised a lot of money for our nominated charity, the local lifeboat station …’

She hesitated. Jago had materialised again and was standing behind the reporter, grinning fit to burst. Ronnie’s mouth opened in an ‘o’ of surprise and she pointed at her chest, then at Miranda’s. She felt the laces loosening over her bosom and almost fainted. Oh no, not now.

‘And what do you think about the future for heritage attractions like the M–’

The reporter might as well have asked her if fairies existed because Miranda could no longer concentrate. She glanced down at her bust for a split second then heard a creak and a ping. The camera wobbled. Ronnie’s hand flew to her mouth. Jago’s grin melted away and reporter’s eyes nearly popped out. The laces had snapped and her cleavage was on view to half
a million viewers of South West Television.

‘OK then, I
think that’s all we have time for. Thank you for joining us, Miranda. Now it’s back to the studio from St Merryn’s Mount. We’ll have an extended report on the festivities here on the evening edition of
South West Tonight
.’

‘That’s it,’ said the reporter as Miranda tried to tug her bodice together.

She groaned. ‘What a disaster.’

The reporter was beaming. ‘Oh, don’t worry. That’s one for the blooper reel. You’ll probably end up on out-take shows for years to come. Sorry to spring on you like that, but we’ve got to rush back to base.’

Miranda wasn’t the least bit comforted and, ignoring Ronnie, she dashed off towards her cottage past grinning visitors. Jago ran after her and grabbed her arm.

‘Get off me!’

‘Calm down. Come here.’ He led her behind the visitor centre.

‘I just
showed my rack to half the population of the South West!’ Miranda wailed.

‘Not
half
the population. I’m sure the station only has a few thousand watching at this time of day. Maybe only a couple of blokes in the pub and a little old lady in Penzance at a guess.’

‘It’s not funny. Look.’

He let out a sigh of admiration. ‘Believe me, I did and I am.’

‘I hate you sometimes.’

‘I’m well aware of that. Here.’ He took off his waistcoat and slipped it over her shoulders. ‘That should cover your modesty until you get to the cottage.’

Under the relative safety of the waistcoat, she made it to the cottage and unlocked the door. ‘I need to get a new top.’

Jago followed her into the sitting room. ‘I’ll wait here.’

She turned. ‘Please, there’s no need. I’ll get changed and see you later.’

For a moment, she wasn’t sure he would leave. He seemed about to say something and she half held her breath but then he said: ‘OK, I’ll see myself out.’

Upstairs, she found a faded peasant-style blouse at the bottom of her drawer. After she’d changed, she brushed her hair and secured it back in its ponytail. She stood in front of the mirror and took a few deep breaths. With Jago and Theo following her around like warring brigands, she ought to feel like Cornwall’s luckiest woman but it wasn’t a happy experience. She hoped that the rest of the day could go without incident but that hope was crushed when she finally emerged from the cottage to find Theo hovering in the doorway.

‘Ah. Now I
see. I’ve been wasting my time, haven’t I?’ he said as she ushered him out and relocked the door.

‘What?’

‘I saw Jago come out of the cottage earlier. I saw you with him in the stocks and I saw him put his arm around you. Most of all, I saw your face. You’re in love with him.’

She opened her mouth to deny it then realised it was hopeless. ‘Theo, I like you but …’

‘As a friend?’ His lip curled sarcastically.

‘Yes. As a friend. I know that makes me the only woman for miles around who likes you only as a friend but …’ She smiled to try to defuse his hurt.

‘Slept with you, has he?’

‘Now wait a minute!’

‘He’ll finish you, you know.’

She was getting angry now. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Yes, you do, Miranda. You’ve got it bad for Jago, haven’t you? I’m worried about you because he’ll only let you down. He’ll fuck you up and then he’ll be on to some other woman, just like his father. And you’ll be here in five years’ time, still cleaning his toilets while he marries some rich horsey type.’

Miranda wanted to tell him how wrong he was in every possible way. About her staying and about Jago loving and leaving her but she couldn’t tell Theo that. She couldn’t tell him because she’d made a promise to Jago, a vow that, she knew now, she could no longer keep. The day was drawing to a close and the time had come when he had to let everyone know his plans.

So, she shook her head and ran a finger over his shoulder. ‘Theo, has anyone ever told you to brush that chip off your shoulder?’

Theo’s mouth
twitched in anger. ‘As a matter of fact, they have. But before you accuse me of being jealous of Jago, you should ask my mother if you want to know what the St Merryns really are. Ask her what happened when Lord Patrick sowed his wild oats. He’d only just got married to Lady St Merryn when he came sniffing round my mother. She had a nervous breakdown after he’d finished breaking her heart and then my dad left us.’

‘That doesn’t mean …’ Miranda shut her mouth firmly, almost having been drawn into a trap. The revelation answered some of the reasons why Theo seemed to hate Jago. But the sins of the fathers weren’t always visited on their sons, she thought, or the sins of mothers on their daughters. This was a path she wasn’t prepared to go down with Theo, or Jago, or anyone. ‘Theo, not that it’s any of your business but I haven’t been having an affair with Jago and I’m never going to and, on that, you can trust me. And we can’t be together either.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because …’
Because I’m leaving, I’m running away again. I’ve had enough of this place and things can never ever be the same
.

‘We just can’t. Believe me.’

‘No. He grabbed her arm.

‘You’re hurting me.’

There was
desperation in his eyes and anger, resentment burning like a fire. ‘Now that bastard’s come back, he thinks he can take and own anything he wants to, you included.’

‘Me? I’m not some kind of trophy, Theo, and I’m never going to be Jago’s and I can’t be yours either.’

‘My trophy? You? I think you’re living in fantasy land.’ He laughed in derision. She took an involuntary step backwards and saw the dismay in his face. ‘Shit, Miranda, I didn’t mean to say that.’

‘Yes, you did. You’ve always meant it. You wanted me to make Jago jealous. To spite him.’

‘It’s true. I did want to make him suffer and I do like you, Miranda, I really like you but … I just hate this fucking family even more.’ Even though she’d suspected Theo had been using her, Miranda was still hurt and angry to hear him admit it. Her ego was bruised but his nastiness cut deeper than that. It was calculating and it diminished him. He was a smaller man than she’d thought, no matter what his reasons.

‘You hate the St Merryns because Jago’s father had an affair with your mother?’

‘Because the St Merryns almost ruined my family. My dad left my mum after she had the affair and she had to bring us up on her own. That bastard, Lord Patrick, just cut her out of his life when he’d finished with her. When she tried to confront him and go to his wife, he threatened to turn us out of the cottage where we lived. My mum was a tenant and desperate to stay living in her own home so she decided she had no choice but to keep her mouth shut. Now, as soon as Jago comes back here, he thinks he can just have anyone too.’

‘Including me?’

‘Yes. Including you. I want that tosser to learn he can’t just take what he wants and then chuck it away when he’s bored, leaving a trail of bloody destruction.’

How did he know
Jago would get bored? She couldn’t say that to Theo, she couldn’t say it to herself because what he had predicted had already come true. Jago had already hurt her, but not in the way Theo thought. ‘I’m really sorry about your mother and I know Lord Patrick was a bastard, but have you thought how Lady St Merryn felt about her husband’s affairs? Or how Jago felt? You really don’t know about him. What he’s been through.’

‘You mean his wife dying. Yeah, I heard about that from Karen. Tough shit.’

‘You don’t mean that. This isn’t you, Theo.’

‘Maybe I don’t mean it and maybe I do.’

There was no helping him in this mood. The bitterness and resentment was gnawing away at him until there wasn’t much of the real Theo left. ‘Theo, I can’t carry on seeing you, but you can be sure of one thing – I never have and I never will have an affair with a St Merryn.’ She dug her nails in her hand.

‘Miranda, I’m sorry …’ he began, as the true realisation of everything he’d revealed started to dawn on him.

‘Not now. You’ve got visitors.’ She turned and waved as Louise Dixon wheeled Braden towards them. The little boy bounced in his reins as he recognised Theo. Miranda watched as Theo’s expression changed. She realised how much it had cost him to show his true feelings and how deep his hatred of Jago ran. In his job, he must be used to hiding his emotions and pretending everything would be all right when it often wouldn’t.

Theo headed for Braden. Louise freed him from his pushchair and Theo swung him into his arms and Miranda heard him say, ‘How are you, sunshine? No swimming today I hope?’

She rubbed her hand
across her eyes as visitors swarmed past, one or two glancing at her in puzzlement. The day was by no means finished, and she had to go back and join in with it, just as Theo had done. He’d stripped off every veneer to tell her how he really felt and the saddest thing was she’d hadn’t much liked what was underneath. Some other woman would get to the heart of Theo again one day and hopefully, probably, find a different man, but it wouldn’t be her.

Miranda crawled up the
steps to the castle keep. The sun had sunk now below the horizon, the last of its light staining the sky crimson and pink and the castle rooms seemed eerily silent after a day of unrelenting mayhem.

Her arms were tired, not least because she was carrying a Tudor helmet that had been on display in the visitor centre. Miranda had offered to put it back in its place in the armoury, but the truth was that she’d wanted to escape to the top of the castle and think. Surrounded by clear air and sea and silence, she hoped to make some space and sense of a day that had started with so much sun and hope and ended, for her, in a damp fog of despondency.

The exhausted staff had headed home to the mainland or to their cottages, leaving the remainder of the clear-up until morning. Lady St Merryn had been driven off to Penzance for dinner with a friend from her bridge club. Ronnie had the night off and had gone to Neem’s studio. As for Jago, Miranda hadn’t seen him since he’d walked out of the cottage and Theo had kept out of her way for the rest of the afternoon.

She
hesitated at the entrance to the armoury, the heavy oak door seeming like the entrance to a dungeon. Even though it had been the best Festival ever, she had never felt more desolate.

Did Jago know the real reason why Theo hated him so much? Miranda didn’t know whether it would help Jago to understand or if telling him would simply be chucking petrol onto a bonfire. As for revealing that Theo had used her as a pawn to make him jealous, that would be lethal for both of them. She’d decided to say nothing, in the hope that the both men would leave her alone from now on. She certainly wouldn’t see Theo again, and Jago would probably be leaving within a couple of months – if Miranda didn’t quit first.

With a sigh, she crossed the flagstones and placed the helmet on its stand, repositioning it until it was exactly right.

‘Hello.’

Her heart did a huge flip as she turned to see Jago silhouetted under the stone archway. He’d changed out of pirate mode and into a loose shirt and black jeans. His hair was damp and slicked back, as if he’d recently come out of the shower.

‘Shouldn’t you be putting your feet up by now?’ he asked.

‘Believe me I will be, but I wanted to put this helmet back first.’

‘That could have waited.’

‘I couldn’t leave it lying around in the visitor centre.’ She glanced at him. He was fresh and seemed composed. In contrast, her own skin was gritty and hot and she felt strangely vulnerable.

‘Are
you going out?’ she asked, returning her gaze to the helmet, repositioning it. She could see her face in it, distorted and shiny.

‘No. Why?’

‘You’ve got changed. I thought …’

‘Miranda. I think you should know that Theo spoke to me earlier.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. He warned me off you.’

Miranda turned and laughed as her heart pitter-pattered. Her hope of avoiding confrontation ebbed away.

‘Why is that, do you think?’ He crossed the flagstones towards her.

‘I have no idea, your lordship.’

‘Then I’ll enlighten you, shall I? Theo thinks I’m going to turn into my father and defile you and break your heart, but we both know that’s not possible, don’t we?’

Miranda swallowed down a lump in her throat, wanting to laugh his comments away but finding it impossible. ‘I don’t know.’

Jago stopped a few feet from her. ‘I think you know that I’m not going to break your heart because neither of us will let the other within a hundred miles and rightly so. As for defiling you, I believe I’m too late. I believe there was an archaeology student on a dig who beat me to it?’

Her pulse raced. ‘How do you know that?’

‘At the Pilchard the evening we took our boat trip. You were very chatty.’

‘Oh, shit.’

‘There was
an incident with a vet too and his Labrador, I understand.’

She smiled but ran her hands through her hair. Her scalp tingled, along with every other part of her. ‘What did you say to Theo?’ she asked quietly.

‘I told him he was living in fantasy land and that he has nothing to fear from me.’

‘Did he believe you?’

‘I don’t care.’