Prima Donna (29 page)

Jonty laughed. ‘I thought you might say that. Surprise, huh?’

‘Well, you could say that,’ Tanner said, not quite able to laugh. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t invite us. I’m supposed to be your best man.’

‘It wasn’t actually planned, if that makes it any better,’ Lulie said. ‘
We
didn’t even know we were going to do it – until we were actually doing it.
Maybe we got a bit carried away . . . ?’ She looked at Jonty but he was laughing at Tanner.

‘Probably like you two in the stable just now, I should imagine,’ he said, chuckling again.

Tanner gave him another thump on the arm.

‘It was the best bloody decision of my life,’ Jonty said, tipping up Lulie’s chin with his finger and kissing her lustily. Tanner and Violet shifted awkwardly in front of the
newly-weds.

‘Anyway, are you two going to invite us inside or what?’ Jonty said, breaking for air and looking up. ‘If nothing else, you’ll both catch your death out here in your
smalls.’ He smacked Tanner on the back, leading the march into the farmhouse. ‘Why you couldn’t wait till bedtime instead of scaring the horses, I don’t know.’

Stretching broadly as he stumbled into the kitchen, Tanner yawned and headed for the Aga. Biscuit was in her usual place, stretched along the front of it, her tail thumping
sleepily on the stone floor at his approach.

‘Morning, Bix,’ he mumbled, reaching down to stroke her. He put the kettle on the boiling plate and leant against the rail trying to warm up. It was freezing this morning. Although
it was still dark outside the brightness coming in from the yard told him – without opening the doors – that there’d been a hard frost.

Pouring cream and a tea bag into each of the two mugs, he made his way over to his favourite armchair while he waited for the kettle to boil. Biscuit sat up expectantly, ready to climb onto his
lap.

Tanner gave a start to find Lulie already curled up there, sound asleep. He stared down at her. She was wearing a yellow-striped vest and blue knickers, and the tartan wool blanket, which was
covered in moth holes, was half on her legs, half on the floor. Her legs looked brown, skinny and very long. She was stunning. No wonder Jonty had rushed to marry her.

He vaguely wondered what to do. What was she doing down here? He hadn’t fostered any expectations of seeing the newly-weds downstairs for breakfast. He and Violet worked on an early
schedule at the yard, feeding the horses by 6.30 a.m., and he had thought it more likely he’d have to rouse the glossy couple at lunchtime.

The kettle began to whistle. Hastily, he picked it up and poured the boiling water into the mugs, tiptoeing like a panto burglar back out of the kitchen. She may be his new sister-in-law but she
was also a complete stranger. If anyone was going to wake her up in her underwear, it could be Violet. She was too gorgeous by half, and his brother’s wife. He was steering well clear.

He went up the creaky staircase, tea sloshing all over the treads. A door opened across the landing, and Jonty stuck his head out. He looked anxious.

‘Morning,’ Tanner said, clocking his body language. ‘You okay?’

‘Yuh,’ Jonty replied, his voice two octaves deeper with sleep, still looking around.

‘Lost something?’ Tanner asked.

Jonty scratched his head. He was in a pair of their father’s red-and-green-striped pyjama bottoms and they hung low on his hips, showing off an Abercrombie & Fitch washboard
stomach.

‘Like your wife, maybe?’ Tanner prompted, when Jonty failed to reply.

Jonty looked at him. ‘Yeah, how’d you know?’

‘She’s asleep in the kitchen,’ Tanner said, jerking his head down the stairs.

‘Oh right,’ Jonty said, frowning. There was a long pause. He was still addled with sleep. ‘I’d better go and get her, then.’

‘Probably best. Few women can resist the sight of me in my PJs.’

Jonty chuckled as he shuffled down the stairs.

‘Does she do this a lot, then?’ Tanner asked.

Jonty stopped and looked back up at him. ‘Do what?’

‘Sleepwalking.’

‘Sleepwalking? Oh yeah, right.’ He rubbed his stomach thoughtfully. ‘Yeah, yeah she does.’

‘Can’t say I blame her,’ Tanner grinned, pushing open his door. ‘I wouldn’t sleep next to that face either.’

When Lulie did finally surface – having been settled back into bed – it was indeed knocking on lunchtime. Jonty hadn’t bothered going back to sleep. Down in
the kitchen, he’d heard the horses in their stables and the chickens pecking about in the yard and they’d instantly reawakened all the boyhood memories of riding at dawn.

He’d pulled on a pair of jeans, a sweater, a puffa and some riding boots and helped Tanner feed and muck out. Then he’d saddled up Matchstick and gone for a run on the steep uphill
gallop.

He came back, panting hard, a red flush staining even his swarthy cheeks.

‘God, I’ve missed that,’ he said, eyes bright, pouring himself a cup of the tea that was brewing in the pot.

‘We’ve missed
you
,’ Violet said, looking up from her charts. ‘It’s been too long. What’s brought you back anyway?’

Jonty leant against the Aga and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Lulie needed to get away. The press are always all over her – wanting to know what she’s wearing and
all that crap – and she’s been working back to back on movies for over a year. She’s burnt out.’

‘Lulie’s an actress?’ Violet said jealously. She’d guessed model. ‘What’s she been in?’

Jonty shrugged. ‘Nothing you’d have heard of yet. She’s just done support roles up to now, but Woody Allen spotted her and cast her in his newest title, which is coming out
this summer. This is the year she’s going to break through.’

‘And what are you doing while she’s off . . . actressing? Aren’t you supposed to be in lectures?’ Tanner asked, every inch the big brother.

‘It’s fine. I don’t need to be there
all
the time for an MLitt.’

‘Hmm,’ Tanner mumbled doubtfully, as he pulled the pie from the oven.

‘Anyway, Matchstick’s a fine horse, Tan,’ Jonty said quickly, changing the subject. Tanner had assumed the paternal role ever since their father died and he was unusually
concerned that Jonty should flourish in his postgraduate law career. ‘Where’d you get him from?’

‘He’s Will’s,’ Violet said, clasping her hands together as she suddenly realized she could have an ally. ‘Did you like him?’

Tanner shot her a look.

‘Like him? He’s the best horse I’ve ever ridden. You’ve certainly pulled the yard up by its bootstraps to have a horse of that calibre in your stables.’

‘Yes. It’s a shame Tanner’s kicking him out,’ Violet said mildly.

Jonty’s eyes popped. ‘He’s what?’

‘Your brother’s had a spat with Will and decided he won’t work with him any more. They’ve all got to be gone by the end of next month.’

Jonty stared at his brother, whose jaw was clenched hard.

‘What’s going on, Tan? That horse has got champion written all over him. The stud fees alone would keep you afloat. You know that.’

Tanner shrugged. ‘Of course I do. I bred him myself. But Silk’s got to go. I won’t work with that bastard a week longer than the contract forces me to.’ He shot Violet a
warning look. She wasn’t to say another word on the matter. Jonty had been sitting his finals in Cambridge when Silk had scammed their father and she knew perfectly well Tanner had made the
decision to shield his little brother from Silk’s deception, saying that their father had sold up willingly. Jonty was on the brink of a glittering career in law; there was no point both of
them living with a feud.

Jonty looked at Violet, who shrugged. What the hell had happened? He knew his brother well enough to know better than try to railroad him. He’d just dig in his heels even deeper. He took
the softly-softly approach.

‘So who’re you getting in instead, then?’

‘No one,’ Violet said, lips pursed crossly.

‘Actually, that’s not true,’ Tanner shot back, delighted to prove her wrong for once. ‘I’ve got a couple of owners in Dubai and Brazil who want to break into the
HPA league.’

Violet stared at him, dumbfounded. ‘You never told me that.’

‘You never asked.’

‘Yes, I did,’ she protested.

‘No. You’ve spent the past few weeks telling me I’m making a Big Mistake, and have to go down on my hands and knees to grovel to Silk.’

Jonty watched the exchange. He’d never seen them like this together before. The hostility coming off Tanner was palpable.

‘So how many liveries—’

‘Like I said, it’s still only interest at this stage,’ Tanner said casually. ‘I haven’t even spoken to one of the guys yet, so nothing’s set in
stone.’

Violet rolled her eyes dismissively. No signature on the dotted line? Better the devil you know, in her book.

Tanner caught her sceptical look. ‘I guess we’ll just have to trust that I’m not quite as hopeless as some people think I am.’

Jonty gestured to Violet silently, his hands splayed as if to say ‘What’s going on?’ but Tanner turned to him, catching him out. ‘Anyway, if you two have finished playing
charades, do you want to bring your child bride downstairs? This pie’s ready and I’m starving.’

Will pushed himself further back in his seat, his arms behind his head, his ankles crossed on the leather-topped desk.

‘I’m so sorry, Will,’ Emma said on the speakerphone. ‘The nearest I can find with this amount of notice is Henry Malting’s yard in Shropshire. He’s got
thirty-three stables available from next month.’

‘Yes, but he’s in
Shropshire
,’ Will muttered as though Shropshire was the moon, cursing himself for not having moved on this sooner. He’d been so sure Tanner had
been bluffing. ‘How am I supposed to keep tabs on things all the way up there? I don’t want anyone messing about with Matchstick.’

There was a brief pause. ‘I’ll keep looking, of course,’ Emma said, keeping the resignation out of her voice. ‘But with this lead time . . . well, the yards need more
notice.’

‘Don’t we all?’ Will said, taking his feet off the desk and sitting up. ‘Keep me posted, Emma.’

He pressed disconnect and stared out of the window, brooding over the fix Tanner had put him in. It had been damned convenient stabling his horses next door. He still couldn’t believe
Ludgrove was sticking to his guns on this. He’d expected a quick capitulation after Tanner had cooled down from his temper tantrum. He was the yard’s bread-and-butter business. Tanner
was cutting off his nose to spite his face, determined to inconvenience Will, even at the cost of his own business. Well, fine, let him. Even if he did have to stable the horses in Shropshire, it
would only be a short-term thing. He’d be able to sort out closer stabling within the next month. But Tanner? Unless he replaced Silk’s business sharpish, he probably wouldn’t
even last till the summer. The man was a damned fool.

Locking the study, he bounded up the stairs to change. Pia’s door was open and he glanced in as he jogged past. He stopped dead at the sight of her.

She was lying on her tummy on the bed, reading the choreographer’s score for
The Songbird
. The Royal Ballet Orchestra had recorded it for her and she was listening to it on her
iPod, her left leg bent at the knee and swinging idly, like a child’s, her head nodding to the music.

She was wearing a black vest and a tiny starched tutu that – being flattened at the front – was pushed up vertically behind, showing off her delectable
derrière
. He
watched the silky contours of her left hamstring muscle lengthen and shorten, the hollow of her toned buttock. Her skin was like butterscotch, firm and rich and golden. The temptation to walk over
and lie on her, to push himself between those legs, was overwhelming. He could have kicked himself for promising her the ten-week chastity period in hospital. It seemed to suit her just fine.

Pia looked up and saw him standing at the door. She turned on her side, her left leg bent in front of her immobile right leg.

‘I’m going for a ride,’ he said. ‘I need some fresh air. Mrs Bremar’s downstairs, if you need anything.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ she said brightly, desperate to get out of the house.

‘You’re not dressed for it,’ he said, his eyes running over her again. ‘And the light’s beginning to fade. I’ll just shoot over there myself.’

‘No,’ Pia said, scooting off the bed and limping over to the wardrobe – she’d become astonishingly nimble in the past few weeks. She grabbed a chunky black jumper and
inched some leg warmers up her legs, like stockings. Will took a deep breath for strength, and continued to his own room to change.

They drove over to the yard in one of the estate’s burgundy Land Rovers that happened to be parked at the front. Predictably, Tanner stormed straight out of the office as soon as he caught
sight of them.

‘Saddle him up, please, Jessy,’ Will said, ignoring him and walking straight over to Matchstick. He patted his muzzle, admiringly. He really was a handsome animal.

‘What are you doing here?’ Tanner asked stonily.

‘What does it look like? I’ve come to ride Matchstick.’

‘I thought I made myself clear.’

‘You have, perfectly. But until the month is out and they are off your property, I fully intend to exercise my right to ride them as and when I bloody well want to.’

Tanner’s cheeks flushed with anger, but Will was right. There was nothing he could do about it. He cast a derisory eye over Pia’s get-up.

‘And are you intending to ride today too, or do you only ride stolen horses?’ he asked sarcastically. He was still incandescent over their chase a fortnight earlier.

Pia gave him an equally sarcastic smile in response and he stormed over to the farmhouse, slamming the door behind him.

Jonty was at the kitchen table, doing the crossword.

‘What’s up with you?’ he asked casually, as Tanner threw himself down in his chair, and then just as quickly got back out of it again. He paced the room.

‘Nothing,’ Tanner muttered, looking out of the window.

Clearly, it wasn’t nothing. Jonty got up to see what he was staring at.