Slightly Foxed (15 page)

and willing and sleepily disarranged. I could feel his fingers

against mine even now, as they had been in the kitchen, firm

and dry and promising. I felt like Bluebeard's wife, pushing

open doors all along the landing as I went, hoping nothing

nasty was going to jump out at me. Past two largely empty

rooms, another bathroom, and then I hit pay dirt.

It was a big, airy room with the windows thrown wide to

catch the cool night breezes. Full-length muslin curtains

fluttered like lazy phantoms into the room, almost brushing

the items off the top of a dressing table. A silver-framed

photograph, some scent bottles which looked empty and a

book which, disappointingly, turned out to be on the subject

of breeding Welsh ponies.

The bed was enormous, made up with white crisp sheets

and a lovely puffy white duvet. The look was slightly spoiled

by a pair of Leo's jeans lying on top and two grubby T-shirts

crumpled on the floor, but the room was almost obsessively

tidy apart from the dropped clothes.

I slipped naked between the refreshing cotton sheets. The

photo in the silver frame caught my eye, and I picked it up

and held it under the lamp to get a good view. Bloody hellfire.

If that was Sabine—and, let's face it, who else was it likely to

be, a woman in a wedding dress hanging onto Leo's arm and

laughing fit to bust at the camera—she was absolutely

frigging
gorgeous
.

Huh. On
my
wedding day I'd been feeling fat and

nauseous. Florence had kicked my stomach all through the

ceremony. While the registrar had had a kerfuffle with the

rings, I had been quietly sick into a decorative urn. This

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woman looked as though she could have partied all evening,

given her new husband the night of his life and still been up

at dawn, golden haired, impeccable in a negligee, with

breakfast on a tray.

I turned off the light, arranging myself on the pillows in as

decorative a manner as I could, fanning my red curls across

the white bolsters. I tucked the covers around me in a form-

fitting way, suggesting that I was somewhat more shapely

than was the case, and allowed myself to sink down into the

mattress. It really was comfortable.

Bright. It was very bright. The room was washed with

sunshine, heating the waxed pine of the floor and making it

smell musty. Despite the fact that the window was still open,

the curtains were dangling limp as melted ice cream. I turned

to see the unmarked pillow next to mine. Leo had clearly not

decided to climb in next to me. I propped myself up on one

elbow and nearly fell out of bed with shock as the door flew

open and Leo, wearing only a small towel around his waist,

barrelled into the room.

His shout of horror was almost equalled by mine. He

dropped the towel but that was fine because I'd shot under

the duvet, and by the time I resurfaced, he was tucking it

very firmly back around his middle. He looked great, by the

way, with wet hair, clearly straight from the shower because

droplets were running down his back and chest. "What on

earth
—Alys?" He'd retreated to the far side of the room and

had one hand on the towel for added security.

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Think fast, Alys.
"I got lost last night. It was late, and

somehow I must have gone wrong at the top of the stairs; I

was really, really tired, so I came in here."

"Oh." He looked as though he was considering challenging

my story, but no alternative came to him, thank God. "This

used to be Sabine's room. Now I use it as a kind of dressing

room, keep most of my work gear in the wardrobe. Hence—"

He indicated his near nakedness with the hand not holding up

the towel.

"Oh. Right." Pressing the duvet against me to prevent

anything sagging in an off-putting way, I sat farther up the

bed. "Um."

Leo was still adhering to the wall, clearly terrified by the

view. "Look, I'll just go and—in another room. Er—I'll meet

you in the kitchen?"

"Yes, all right. Shall I cook us some breakfast?" An

insubstantial smell of bacon frying was wafting through and

making my stomach writhe.

"Oh, I've already had mine. It's nearly nine. I've finished

morning stables, came in for a quick clean up, thought we

might take a run into Exeter in a minute if you're up for it.

I've got to pick up a couple of bridles that are in being

mended, and there's the cinema."

"That sounds very nice." Then I remembered last night.

"How's Felicity?"

Leo's face darkened and he almost forgot himself enough

to let go of the towel. "A bit so-so really. The vet managed to

stop the spasms but she's not herself at all yet. Jay's going to

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keep an eye on her today, maybe walk her around a bit, see

how she goes."

He sidled out of the room hell-bent on not letting me get

so much as a glimpse of his buttocks. He could have saved

his energy, I'd already sussed his gluteus maximus. It was

the sort of thing which drew the eye. Particularly in those

shorts he'd had on yesterday.

I found the kitchen after only one false start, but Leo had

beaten me to it. "Gosh, Alys you look"—I held my breath—

"fantastic."

Better or worse than your average horse?
I felt like saying,

but didn't. "Thanks. So do you." I meant it. His hair was still

damp and dripping onto his black T-shirt, his jeans were

creased and his jodhpur boots were dusty. But he was

wrapped in an aura of careless sexuality, so absolutely the

type of man I fancied that he might have been an Identikit-

Date. I was about to suggest a cup of tea before we got

going, anything to keep my stomach quiet, but at that

moment the telephone rang. Leo picked it up and turned to

me after a second.

"Alys, it's for you."

"What?" I shook my head. "No one's got the number."

Leo just gave a sideways shrug. "It's a woman. At least, I

think it is."

"Ah, Alys, you are there. I was worrying because you were

ringing in the night, making a panic of yourself."

"Hi, Jace." Of course, good old 1471. "No, only wanted to

check that you knew about Mrs. Winterbourne's parcel."

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"She is here now, telling me about her big bottom." I

couldn't even begin to interpret this one. Leo was shuffling his

feet, obviously impatient to be off. "So you are okay?"

"Fine. No worries. Anyway, Jace, where the hell
were
you

last night? Got yourself a hot date, did you?" There was a

small pause, and Jacinta giggled. "You didn't? You jammy

cow!"

A little unfair, given that I had spent the night in another

man's bed, even if the bed in question hadn't, strictly

speaking, been
his.
It hadn't been for want of trying.

"It was not a date, Alys, I was just having drinks with

Piers. He is very nice boy, you know? Very, very cute."

Obviously Piers had taken to Jace more than I'd thought.

My stomach gave a mysterious little wobble. "I bet that was

fun."

Jacinta giggled again. "I was learning to drink Snakebite.

We were having a competition, and I think he is very poor

today."

Behind me Leo had stepped up the shuffle. "Right. Lovely.

Well, I'd better go, Jace. I'm off to Exeter. Talk to you later."

"I hope you are being careful of yourself, Alys." Jace's

voice was suddenly serious. "Do not let what is in his trousers

run away with you."

I kept my face straight. "I shall try to make sure it is well

contained. Bye."

I was giggling over Jacinta's warning when I climbed into

the Land Rover, Leo looking at me quizzically. There was no

way I could have explained Jace's idiosyncratic approach to

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the English language to him, so I contented myself with

saying, "It was Jacinta who I work with, just checking up."

I turned away to look out of the window at passing Devon.

Didn't want him to know about last night's little panic. The

sun throbbed down, all the vegetation which lined the lanes

was smothered in a layer of sandy dust thrown up by the

passing wheels. If it rained now, there was going to be

eyebrow-level mud.

Rain seemed as far away as Christmas as we drove into

Charlton. I was still watching the passing view and Leo hadn't

remarked on my silence. Whenever I glanced towards him, he

was staring straight ahead at the road, every now and again

thumbing his glasses back up towards the bridge of his nose.

"I'll need to pop in and see Alan," Leo said at last, without

any reference to the conversational lapse. "He's got a couple

of in-hand bridles for me to pick up. Okay?"

"Fine."

"Hey. Alys. Come in with me. I want to introduce you to

Alan." He took my hand across the gearstick. I resisted for a

fraction of a second's peevishness, then let his fingers fold

over mine. "Really I just want to show you off." He lowered

his voice. "I can't believe you're real. Introducing you to

people makes it all more solid somehow, more
true
."

I thawed faster than a choc-ice in a chip pan. "I'd love to.

Do I look all right?"

In the shadow of the Land Rover, Leo pulled me tight

against him. "You look absolutely bloody
amazing,
" he said

slightly hoarsely.

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Now
this
was promising. "So." I leaned into him. "Why

don't we go back?" I gave it the full works, hair tossing, lip

licking, I even attempted a small, knicker-twisting hip-wiggle.

He let his hands fall away. "Well, it's not often that I get a

day off like this, to go and do what I want and we'll have

plenty of time, won't we?"

I told myself not to be so childish. "Of course. I'm looking

forward to the film." And, hopefully there will be hotdogs, and

chocolate. My stomach let out a little groan of anticipation.

"Shall we go and meet your Alan?"

"Good idea." Leo took my hand and began to lead me

across the road, to my horror into the same saddlery shop

that I had rushed to beg information on him. I reared back

against the pressure of his fingers. "It's okay," Leo said,

misunderstanding. "You don't have to be shy. Alan is a great

guy, known him for years."

Inside the shop was as dark as ever, still redolent with the

soapy organic smell of leather. My heart rose a little, there

didn't seem to be anyone behind the counter. Leo wandered

around, lifting and sorting various items as though he did this

every day. "Al!" he called, freeing a tangled mass of

leatherwork and teasing it out into component items. "I've

come for the tack."

"Hello there." The voice came from behind us, forestalling

my instinctive idea which was to crouch down behind a feed

bin. "'Tis you again, Mr. Forrester." The middle-aged man

who I'd encountered last time came into the shop through a

side-mounted door which led to a back room.

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"It is indeed. I've got a couple of youngsters coming out at

the Devon County next week, and I knew you'd finished with

the bridles. So I thought, since we were passing—" He looked

around for the we part of the equation, but she was currently

busying herself with a totally fake interest in a set of luridly

coloured nylon head collars hanging conveniently far away.

"Alys?"

"Er. Hello." I hoped that enough strange auburn-haired

women walked in here that I might be lost in the masses.

Leo introduced us but I didn't hear. I was still pulsating

with terror about what Alan was going to say. His eyes

registered nothing but a passing interest in Leo's words and a

friendly recognition. I held my breath; if Alan told Leo we'd

already met, then I'd have to admit to Leo that I'd already

known who he was before I met him at Isabelle's.

"So. I see you found 'im." Alan's first words were about as

bad as it could get but promptly got worse when he

explained, "Your lady friend was in here—oh, few weeks back

now, asking after you."

It wasn't malicious, that I was sure. I mean, how could he

have known? It was a casual, passing remark, nothing more.

I felt my bladder drop to my knees.

"Alys?" Leo was only mildly curious.

"I was on my way up to see Isabelle. I saw you come in

here, and I thought—God, this sounds so weird—I thought I

recognised you. You must have reminded me of someone, I

don't know who."

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"Came in wantin' to know who you be." Alan handed over

two bridles surely too small to be worn by anything outside of