Chapter Nineteen
The rest of his guests stirred themselves throughout the course of the morning, stumbling downstairs and throwing themselves on the mercy of Mrs F, who cooked up full English breakfasts for each and every one of them who could face it, and provided tea and sympathy for those who couldn't. She was quite cheerful, and even friendly towards them all, not even complaining when one of them insisted he'd lost his breakfast and demanded a replacement.
"Lost it?" she chortled. "Well, I've heard it all now."
"But I did," he insisted. "Only put it down in the hallway for a minute while I went to call Alfie here, and some bugger made off with it." He scowled accusingly at another, rather portly man, who was tucking into a mound of sausages smothered in brown sauce. "And don't think I don't know who nicked it, either!"
"Get on with you." Mrs F laughed and handed him another plateful of food, and he beamed at her and wandered off, bad mood quite forgotten.
Briony was nowhere to be seen, which I was quite glad about. Joel tucked into sausages and bacon with gusto and looked decidedly cheerful, and none the worse for wear, in spite of his previous night's alcoholic intake.
I was persuaded into eating a bacon sandwich by Michael, who seemed determined that I'd taste his cooking, for some reason. I had to admit, it hit the spot nicely. Fortified by my tasty butty and another mug of tea inside me, I bid them farewell as they took Adele off to Bridlington for the afternoon, and decided to go for a walk around the grounds with plans of escaping the London crowd with a book in my secret bolthole behind the wall.
I felt a bitter disappointment on discovering the gate locked. Though, maybe Ethan didn't want any of his guests to intrude upon the garden, a thought that cheered me up no end. Still, I didn't want to be disturbed by any of them, so after a moment's thought, I headed to the lake and crawled beneath the branches of an obliging weeping willow, where I leaned against the trunk and opened my book, knowing I was hidden from the outside world. Finally finding the page where I'd left off, I began to read.
I wasn’t sure how long I'd been there when I became aware of a low murmur of voices. I froze, hoping no one would move the branches aside and discover me there, which was ridiculous really, because why would they? As I listened, praying I would remain out of sight, it dawned on me that the voices I could hear weren't exactly friendly.
My blood ran cold when I recognised Ethan's voice. "You're being ridiculous. There is no plot. I've told you, I don't know where she is at the moment."
"And I've told you, I don't believe you. Look, Ethan, I don't know what goes on between you and Antonia, and I don't particularly care. All I know is, her old man's in a bad way, and he wants to see her. Is that too much to ask?"
"Of course it's not, but what can I do? If I can't find her ..."
"But it's crazy! No one seems to know where she is. How is that even possible in this day and age?"
"If Antonia doesn't want to be found ..."
"And why wouldn't she want to be found? Has something happened between the two of you?"
"Not at all. You know Antonia. She likes to go off and do her own thing. Always has."
"Don't make out like you never see her. I know for a fact that you spent Christmas with her. I've made enquiries. You stayed in Paris together. Are you seriously telling me that six months later, you have no contact with her?"
"So we were together in Paris for Christmas. Why wouldn't we be? She's my wife, for God's sake. But then I had to return to London, and she wanted to go off on her travels again. She's like that, isn't she? She can't stay in one place for long. Never has."
"So, you won't help?"
"It's not that I won't help—"
"It's a bloody disgrace. Don't you think you owe Uncle Simon something, after the way you humiliated him?"
"Humiliated him! That was years ago! And what did he expect? It was like something out of the Tudor ages."
"That's not the point. There was an agreement. You made him look a fool. He gave you the benefit of the doubt, didn't he? And what happened? She abandoned him completely. He's hardly seen her at all, since you two got married. You turned her against him, that's what you did. You isolated her. She was a real party girl until you got your claws into her, and after that, she practically vanished off the face of the earth. What did you do to her, eh?"
"Do you have any idea how paranoid you sound? For God's sake, Marcus, stop being an idiot. Antonia's very much her own woman, always has been. If Simon hasn't seen her, maybe he should look to himself for an explanation."
"Meaning what?"
"Never mind. Look, I understand Simon wants to see her before it's too late, and I'm genuinely sorry that he's ill, but I don't know where she is. If I hear from her, I'll let her know what's happening, and then it's up to her whether she contacts him, or not. It's totally her decision."
There were some vague mutterings, then the man, Marcus, said, "Whatever you say, there's no reason on earth that I can think of why she wouldn't want to see her father. I don't know what hold you've got over her, Rochester, but let me be very clear. If you can't find her, perhaps the police will."
There was quiet for a while, and I thought maybe they'd both moved away, so my heart leapt into my mouth when I heard Ethan say clearly, "Faith? How is she today? Oh, no, I'm sorry to hear that. Look, I wouldn't disturb you, but there's bad news, I'm afraid. Marcus just turned up at the house. It seems her father's taken a turn for the worse, and he wants to see her. Well, I know that, but if he doesn't see her, Marcus has threatened to get the police involved, and he means it. What are we going to do about it? Christ, Faith, this is such a mess. We have to sort this out, once and for all."
His voice grew fainter, and I realised he was walking away. Eventually, I couldn't hear him at all, and I sat there, feeling sick.
What was going on with Antonia Rochester, and why had Ethan just lied to her cousin?
#
Briony and Joel were arm in arm as they left the house. Briony barely glanced in Ethan's direction, merely waving her hand airily and heading down the steps towards her car. Joel, however, shook Ethan's hand eagerly.
"Good time?" Ethan drawled, raising an eyebrow in obvious amusement.
"You don't mind, do you?" Joel asked, sounding anxious. "I know you invited her here to seduce her—"
Ethan coughed. "Er, who told you that?"
"She did. It's all right, Ethan. I totally understand. She's amazing, isn't she? But the fact is, I've loved her for such a long time—"
"You don't say? You kept that quiet!"
It was obvious to me that Ethan was all too aware of the fact, and it dawned on me that he'd set them up deliberately. I remembered his remark about Cupid, and how he'd insisted that Joel teach Briony how to play pool. Had his flirting with her been an attempt to coax Joel into action? Despite everything, I felt quite warmly towards him for that. Joel was obviously mad about Briony, and Ethan had made it happen. What a shame, I reminded myself sternly, that he was also a liar and … and—and what? I had no idea. I only knew that there was something extremely weird going on, and it concerned the mysterious Antonia Rochester, and whoever that Faith woman was.
"So, are we good?" Joel persisted.
Ethan smiled and held out his hand. "We're good, Joel. You're still my favourite cousin."
Joel grinned back at him. "Hey, I'm your only cousin! All the same, thanks, Ethan. Great party."
"You're welcome. Good luck with Briony. Hope it all works out well."
Joel practically floated over to Briony's car, where she made a great show of wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him in a quite disgustingly graphic way. Sending a look of contempt Ethan’s way, she climbed into her car and started the engine. Joel rushed over to his own car, gave a last cheery wave to us, then drove off following closely behind her.
As the last of the guests disappeared through the gates, Ethan heaved a sigh of relief and slumped against the doorframe. "Thank God that's over with."
"You didn't want this party, at all, did you?" I said, folding my arms and watching him curiously.
He shook his head. "That obvious? No, I hate all this sort of thing, but people had been nagging me to show them this place for ages, and when I realised it would be the perfect way to throw Joel and Briony together, it seemed like a great solution to multiple problems. Everyone's seen the house now, so they'll hopefully shut up about it. Joel has finally got the love of his life, God help him, and Briony—"
"Will finally leave you alone?" I raised an eyebrow, and he laughed.
"That's the plan. She'll be all right with Joel. He's far more suited to her than I am, and he's not short of a bob, or two. He'll be able to fund the lifestyle she so desperately wants, and he'll be far more accommodating towards her than I ever would have been."
"Was it ever on the cards?" I said. "You and Briony, I mean?"
"Of course not!" He looked at me, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Did you think it was?"
"You were flirting with her all evening." Damn, why had I said that? He'd know I'd been watching them.
"All part of the plan," he said.
"To make Joel take action?"
"That, too," he said. He stared at me a moment, then shook his head. "Briony's really not my type."
"And, of course, you're a married man," I pointed out, watching him shrewdly.
His face stiffened. "Of course. Yes."
Huh! So much for the honourable Ethan Rochester. Sometimes, it seemed as if he'd completely forgotten he had a wife. I mean, okay, I sometimes forgot, too, but come on, it wasn't me who'd made the vows, was it?
As I turned to go back inside, he followed me in. "Your mother's going to brave the outside world," I told him coolly. "She's asked me to accompany her and Adele, perhaps tomorrow, or the day after. She feels ready to face everyone with a bit of makeup at last."
"I know. I saw her earlier. She asked me to go, too. Is that all right with you?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" I turned towards the stairs.
"Where are you going?" he asked. "We've got the house to ourselves now. Apart from my mother, I mean."
I faced him, my bemusement at his remark obviously showing, as he said, somewhat uncertainly, "I mean, if you're bored, we can do something? I don't know. Go for a walk, watch a film?" He moved towards me, his hand on my shoulder. "Cara, I—"
"No thanks," I said quickly, before I lost all sense of reason. "I won't interrupt you. Besides, don't you have another guest to see to?" It was a cheap shot, and he looked baffled.
"Sorry?"
"I heard someone else had arrived. Some man. Marcus, was it?"
"Who told you that?" His hand dropped to his side, as undeniable anxiety entered his eyes.
I shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I heard it somewhere. Where is he?"
"Gone." He sounded bleak. "It was a brief visit. Business. It's done now." He looked totally defeated, and forgetting all my common sense, my heart melted.
"I see," I murmured, even though I didn't. I stared up at him, and, without warning, he cupped my chin with his hand, tilting my face towards him, then he lowered his head and kissed me lightly on the lips.
I couldn’t help it. Even though my mind screamed at me to push him away, my heart demanded more. I kissed him back, and he responded, his hands cradling my face as we stood there together, and suddenly I was in a different place, in a whole new awareness that scared the life out of me.
As if my fear communicated itself to him, he let me go and stepped back. "That wasn't—I shouldn't—I'm sorry, Cara."
He turned and strode into the sitting room, shutting the door firmly behind him.
He was sorry? Not half as sorry as I was.
I stood there, dazed, my fingers touching my bruised lips. God, I was an idiot. Ethan Rochester couldn't be trusted, and neither, quite clearly, could my foolish heart.