It was dark outside and rain threatened, but I didn’t care. I needed a break from the mansion, otherwise my head would explode. Slowly, I crept downstairs. The Earl and Lady C were laughing together in the Parlour, whereas—less communicative than ever after dinner—Edward was nowhere to be seen and probably in the library.
Once outside, I headed for the back of the building. In spite of my high shoes, I jogged up the hill, the night breeze tickling my cheeks. Bliss – what freedom!
Eventually I collapsed onto the grass near the cemetery and gazed down at the silhouette of Applebridge Hall. I couldn’t make out the ivy and lichen-covered walls now, but moonlight illuminated the triangular gables and mini ornamental totem pole bits sticking out of the top. By the looks of it, I’d left my bedroom light on and I also spotted an Edward-like shadow on the ground floor pass by the inside of the library window.
Aarghh! What was that? Footsteps came from behind. Someone grabbed my arm.
‘Trespassing, are we?’
I pulled away, stood up and turned around. Phew. For a moment I’d thought it was Mr Thompson with his gun.
‘Um, hi…’ I said, relieved, but remembering, just in time, to pretend I hadn’t a clue who Nick was. ‘Soz. I’m, um, a mega fan of the show and didn’t think anyone would mind if I took a sneaky look around the estate.’
Nick smirked and looked me up and down, his eyes resting on my chest. At least he was less interested in my face – the only real clue that I was ‘Abbey’.
‘What’s it worth, me not reporting you?’ he said with a leer.
Huh? This wasn’t the polite Nick I knew, who was helping out Miss Croxley. I folded my arms.
‘Look, I’ll go now. No harm done,’ I said, still baffled. What was up with him?
‘Really? How am I to know you haven’t vandalized, say, the pond?’ He winked. ‘Keep me company for a while. You look like a girl who likes to have fun. In fact, yeah, nice skirt,’ he added.
Suddenly it felt very short. Oh my God – it looked like I wasn’t the only one putting on an act in Applebridge Hall. Clearly, away from the aristocratic life, Nick was an absolute jerk. A wave of anger cascaded through my chest. Just because my clothes were less conservative, he thought he could treat me with less respect?
I hurried away down the hill. He followed and eventually cornered me by the pond edge.
‘Come on,’ he said and stepped closer. ‘Let’s enjoy ourselves. I could tell you anything you want about stuck-up Edward or bonkers Mr Thompson, who’s mental, always worrying about hooligans… I was just checking the forest for him. You’d be in a lot of trouble if I handed you over. He’s got a gun and no sense of humour.’ Nick slipped a hand around my waist, pulled me close and then, urgh—patted me on the bum.
‘Hands off!’ I said, cheeks burning as I pushed him away. My mouth went dry. Up until now, when I was dressed as Abbey, Nick had seemed like a mega nice guy. ‘What kind of a girl do you take me for?’
‘I think that’s obvious.’ He sniggered and stepped forward again.
I looked around in the dark. Suddenly the estate seemed very secluded.
‘No need to play hard to get,’ he scoffed.
‘Shut up!’ muttered a voice. Edward appeared out of the darkness.
‘My Lord…I found this young woman trespassing,’ said Nick. ‘I was, uh, just escorting her off the premises.’
‘Get out of my sight,’ said Edward to him and scowled. ‘Good thing I was taking an evening stroll, because I won’t have anyone on this estate treated with disrespect, whether they are invited or not.’
‘But—’
‘Now!’ snapped Edward. ‘Do as you’re told, man, if you want to keep your job.’
Nick’s top lip curled, along with his fist. He glared at me before sauntering back to the house.
‘Thanks,’ I said, heart still thumping, and straightened my skirt, ‘but I was managing just fine.’
‘What are you doing here?’ he said. ‘Visiting Abbey again?’
Our eyes met. ‘Edward…I was a right idiot the other night.’ Hurrah! At last, an opportunity for
Gemma
to say sorry.
‘What’s done is done.’ Edward shrugged. ‘You made it quite clear what sort of chap you think I am. Just when I thought my…my cousin understood who I was.’ He turned and headed back to the house.
‘Look, don’t go!’ With all my strength, I dragged him back to the bench. We sat down.
‘Gemma! For God’s sake. We’ve said all that needs to be said.’
‘No, we haven’t. Look – please, forgive me. Abbey just made a mistake and I should have had more faith. But these things happen – we’re only human.’
He sat down. ‘I suppose I can see how my cousin might have misconstrued the situation…but it didn’t mean you had to believe her with such haste.’
‘Look at me, Edward! I’m not your average aristocratic girl. Not the sort of woman someone in your position would take seriously.’
He shook his head.
‘Don’t pretend it doesn’t matter! Abbey’s dad goes mad if she dates anyone without an amazin’ title or Eton education.’
‘He doesn’t speak for everyone who lives in a stately home,’ said Edward. ‘You might be surprised what we’re really like – if you got to know us better.’
‘Yeah, right… So you think your dad would be chuffed if you brought me home?’
‘As long as you were honest and upstanding… As long as you had goals in life and were your own person.’
My heart sank – there was that word, ‘honest’, again.
Edward took my hand and pulled me nearer to him. ‘Grandy—my mother’s mother—was a “commoner”.’ His mouth twitched. ‘Not that I’ve ever liked that word. She grew up in a two-up two-down but married into nobility and never a more intelligent, compassionate woman could you meet. There were no seats left empty at her funeral. So Mother never thought titles were the be-all and end-all. One thing Father always says he loved about her was that she kept him straight, and had a mean left punch if he ever showed signs of being a snob.’ He smiled. ‘She kept me straight too and regularly told me I was as stubborn as a mule.’
I put my hand against his cheek. ‘You’re freezing.’
‘Well, I am…what was it you called me…a
cold fish
?’
I slipped my arms around his neck. ‘Sorry about that. Truth is, you’re really, really
hot
.’
He leant forward and our lips touched. Candy popped in my stomach. His arms wrapped around my back – and stayed there, tight and secure, for what seemed like ever. There was no fumbling for my bra—no clumsy attempts to get me in a horizontal position. Instead, he murmured mega poetic stuff, like how my skin was catkin-soft.
‘I just felt a spot of rain,’ he said gently. ‘Let’s get inside before it pours.’
‘Once…once this whole thing is finished, I won’t have an excuse to visit any more…’
He grabbed my hands. ‘Of course you will – me! Look, don’t go home yet, Gemma. Stay for the rest of the week—I’m sure Abbey would appreciate your support. I don’t need to let on that I know you’re around, if that’s what she still wants. And, as for after the weekend… Surely you don’t think I’m going to let you slip through my fingers once again?’ Passionately he kissed me once more, on the lips. ‘Dear, sweet, straightforward Gemma…’ he finally mumbled. ‘Where have you been my whole life?’
Wow.
‘We’ll sort something out. Meet me here, in secret every night, if Abbey still doesn’t want your presence to go public—although I’d love to introduce you to Henrietta and Robert.’
‘No. Abbey, um, wouldn’t want that yet. You know, that old Croxley pride – she’d want people to think she was fine managing on her own, without me.’
‘Typical Croxley, indeed.’ He grinned. ‘It takes a lot for us to admit we need help. How about I take you out to dinner tomorrow evening, then—after I’ve watched the show with the family? We could grab a late supper somewhere. Take a break from the madness.’
‘That sounds epic,’ I said. ‘I can hide in Abbey’s room all day. But just one thing, before we go in,’ I said and felt a happy adrenaline rush.
‘Yes, Gemma?’ he said softly.
With a giggle, I jumped up. ‘Let’s see who’s best at dodging drops of rain. Last one to the woods is a wuss!’
Edward stood up. ‘But I’m a mature, responsible thirty-two year old Lord. What on earth makes you think I’d want to play that game?’
‘Oh… I…’
‘Gotcha!’ he said and, with a wink, suddenly charged up the hillside, me following with hoots of laughter, determined to catch up.
LORD EDWARD’S E-DIARY
Monday 10th September
11.30p.m.
Welcome to the final week of
Million Dollar Mansion.
After the tremendous success of the evacuee reunion, our chances of winning continue to improve. Fans of the show are now looking forward to Lieutenant Mayhew’s engagement party on Wednesday. I have spent a large proportion of today putting together a speech in honour of Henrietta and Robert, my two very good chums.
In fact, recent events have made me realize how very important friends are. Not only those in the real world, who stand by you, but also supportive people in the virtual world.
Drunkwriter
and
Cupcakesrock
, I didn’t know you lived near each other. How interesting that today you met up for lunch, Jolly glad you both took sensible precautions and met up in public. As we all know, the Internet does have a dark side we should all be aware of. But, on a cheerier note,
Cupcakesrock
, it sounds like you have been a good friend to
Drunkwriter
, offering supportive emails since you first met up on this blog.
Drunkwriter
, thanks to her, you feel your heartbreak is over? Are you both hinting that there is romance in the air?
Here is a poser question for all of you, seeing as we have moved onto the subject of, erm, sentimental stuff… Which of the following romantic things has a Croxley done?
I know—it’s hard to believe that I’m talking about such gubbins and perhaps I’ll regret this post in the morning. But a wave of emotion came over me this evening, and appears to have no plans to leave. Mother always said this day would come, when I met…Couldn’t stop thinking of… Longed to spend every moment with… Erm… Excuse me—I digress.
Let’s return immediately to that question… Has a Croxley ever:
Erm, discarded his reserve for a night-time swim in the pond?
Lost his life, fighting for the woman of his dreams?
Abandoned her family at Applebridge Hall to be with her soulmate?
(Admittedly the first option does sound rather weak, in comparison.)
Nick, you f***ing a*****le, smile at me once more and you’re dead
.
Thoughts are mega, aren’t they? You can get a load off your chest and use words you may not want to blurt out. Although, for rude words, my mind now often added in asterisks. Through the dim light of dawn, I smiled back at the gardener before giving a wide yawn. It was Tuesday morning and, as agreed, we’d snuck into the kitchen at seven a.m. I was still gobsmacked at the discovery of cheeky Nick’s true character.
He’d tipped off the cameraman so, innocently, I ignored the shuffle of footsteps just outside the half-open window. I gritted my teeth, every ounce of me itching to abandon my manners and punch Nick’s smug jaw after his insulting behaviour last night. To hide my face, I adjusted the hood of my dressing gown. Plus, without harsh lighting, it wouldn’t be obvious that Nick was with Miss Croxley—or so I hoped. Calling on all my acting skills, I gave Nick a grin. Although, truth be told, it wasn’t that hard as my heart still danced because of Edward…me…and our bonkers relationship being on again.
‘Remember the film?’ Nick asked.
I nodded, having seen
Nine and a Half Weeks
at the insistence of Auntie Jan.
‘Open the fridge,’ I said. ‘The light from that will illuminate our actions just enough.’
‘Certainly, Miss.’
As the fridge door opened, we both crouched down in front of it.
Miss
, indeed. He hadn’t been quite so courteous last night. As he’d find out, it was a
Mis
take messing with me.
‘Do you think the cameraman is ready?’ I asked.
Nick bobbed up. ‘Yep—but he can’t see us on the floor—the window is too high. We’ll have to do it standing up.’
I got to my feet. Now, which foods to choose first…? We hadn’t got mics on and there was obviously no boom near enough, so it didn’t matter too much what we said.
‘How about pineapple?’ I said. ‘Now, remember, even if it’s something you don’t normally enjoy, you must give the impression that this food is…’
‘A real turn-on?’ he said. ‘If you’ll excuse the crude phrase.’
I nodded and reached for a bowl. With my fingers, I took out a chunk of pineapple. Nick opened his mouth and licked his lips. I dropped in the piece of fruit and bit my inside cheeks, so as not to smile. Nick closed his eyes as if in ecstasy, then opened them suddenly and moaned.
‘Aarghh, this is—’
‘You must act as if you love it,’ I hissed, ‘if we are to provide a real homage to the film.’
Slowly he chewed, oohing and ahhing, tears running down his cheeks.
‘Here, try a strawberry instead, if pineapple isn’t your favourite.’ I dangled one in the air before lowering it into his mouth. He bit the fruit, leaving the green stalk in my hand. Seconds later, his eyes bulged.
Aw, shame…that I’d accidentally dipped those strawberries in chilli powder before he arrived. And, colour-wise, mustard had merged nicely into the pineapple.
‘Oh, dear,’ I said. ‘Was that strawberry a tad unripe? How about some honey to sweeten it up? Mickey Rourke squeezed that into Kim Basinger’s mouth.’
I lifted a bottle into the air. A stream of golden liquid dripped down, in between his lips.
‘Goodness me. What a silly billy,’ I said as he gagged. ‘I picked up the cooking oil by mistake.’
Just like in the film, I poured some milk into a glass and fed it to him. Oops, clumsy me, I tilted the glass too far and it spilt all down his shirt.
‘That’s enough,’ stuttered Nick and gagged. ‘I think the cameraman has got all he needs.’