His American Fling (34 page)

I could feel my bottom lip trembling so I didn’t dare turn towards him, I just nodded an acknowledgement.

We rode the rest of the way, another hour, in a piercing silence. When we arrived at Robscott, Fiona bounced down the steps of the entry and grabbed me up in her arms as Henry shook Campbell’s hand.

“Good to have you back, Adair.”

“Feels good to be home.”

“I heard Gemma’s living in your Cambridge digs?” Henry asked.

I walked by on Fiona’s arm just as Cambridge said, “Yes, at least until the remodeling is done on the manor.”

I leaned into Fiona. “What remodeling is she doing?”

“Oh, I can’t keep up with it. I think a few bathrooms and the kitchen. Do we have to talk about Gemma? I’d rather talk about you and Campbell.” Fiona turned to Campbell, “We never see you. Are you ever going to come home?”

“I had to take an apartment in Munich and in Paris. We have lawsuits in both cities.  The Munich lawsuit will go to trial next month.  If it goes our way, we’re sure the Paris lawsuit will settle.”

“What’s going on Campbell?” I asked.

“We’ve had to sue my father’s former business partners for interference with a business advantage and breach of contract.  It’s a nightmare.”

“You aren’t practicing medicine at all?” Fiona asked.

His face dropped. “No, not now.”  Campbell turned to Henry. “How do you like Barts?”

“It’s in tatters. I don’t know how they manage to function half the time. But, they seem to be responding to my suggestions.”

We all went inside and had tea. I had to agree with Campbell, the genuine affection between Henry and Fiona was almost too much. I guess it was the dam bursting after twenty years of unrequited love. I was actually very happy for them and touched that I had a small part in making two people so happy.

Robscott Manor didn’t look any different, but I hadn’t been into any of the bathrooms or the kitchen yet to see the changes that Gemma was making. I thought that later I’d sneak down to the kitchen and take a look at the renovations.

We all chatted for an hour and then Fiona jumped up. “Well, now that you’ve had tea, you both better get upstairs, take a nap, get ready and we’ll be back to run through the rehearsal at four.”

Fiona kissed me on the cheek (no air kisses between us) and within seconds had disappeared out the door with Henry following close behind. I turned to Campbell completely at a lost.

He chuckled and rang for Walker who appeared rather quickly. “Walker what room is Miss McGee in?”

“Her luggage has been sent to the Morning Suite, my Lord, at the insistence of Lady Raleigh.”

Campbell looked somewhat disturbed by this information, but cleared his throat and waved at me. “Please show her to her room.”

I climbed the stairs with Walker, who walked as if he had a group of geriatrics following him.  I wanted to hurry him along, but we traveled at the rate of a State Funeral. We walked by a door that was opened to a huge bedroom in which the maid was busily unpacking Campbell’s luggage. We carried on, walking like turtles to two doors down. Walker opened the door for me to enter. It hit me that I was only two doors down from Campbell which meant my sitting room was probably next to his bedroom. I walked into the room and after several instructions from Walker about my room and the servants, he finally left. I scuttled through the room to the door leading to what Walker said was the sitting room. I opened it and my suspicions were right, the sitting room had a door on the far side which probably connected to Campbell’s sitting room.

It meant that Fiona had cruelly put me into the Dowager Countess of Falkirk’s former rooms. I wondered why Gemma hadn’t taken up residence in the Morning Suite. It meant that she was probably sharing Campbell’s room like most of the married couples out in the real world. Actually, it was pretty romantic when you thought about it.

I wanted to see if the door was a closet or, as I suspected, an entrance to the Earl’s rooms. As I approached, I was fairly sure it would be locked, but the glass knob turned easily in my hand and the door opened quietly.  Looking in, I could see an ornate fireplace with a leather couch in front of it. The fireplace was flanked by shelving holding books and stereo equipment. A large flat screen television was hung above the fireplace and other furniture, including a small bar, were scattered throughout the room.

I walked into the middle of the room and was rather proud of Campbell. He had managed to keep his sitting room masculine despite sharing it with Gemma. I was looking at the gorgeous ceiling with its dramatic mural of a gorgeous naked female angel with dark wings and an orb in her hand when
my reverie was broken.

“Mags?
Do you need something?” 

I snapped my neck and turned so quickly I almost lost my balance. Campbell was standing with one towel wrapped around his waist and the other drying his hair. His nicely sculpted chest was covered lightly in dark hair, the same under his arms. I could see the
very top of his happy trail peeking out enticingly from his towel. Just looking at him made my blood rush, warm and gooey, to all the right parts. I was hot all over.

My voice was stuck and I had to clear it, “I’m sorry, really. I saw the door and thought it might be a closet, but then I saw the gorgeous
ceiling. I had to come in to look at it. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.” I said all of this as I backed up to the door to leave.

He shrugged lightly. “Mi casa es su casa. Make yourself at home.” He started to go back into his room, “Have you seen my room?”

“Just in passing.”

He motioned with his wet head to follow him. I kept staring at his shapely body. His shou
lders were wide, white, and well defined. The biceps were deliciously sinewy, yet powerful in their appearance. Looking at his body, I had to exhale sharply to keep my blood pressure from going through the roof. I missed those arms, his lips, and the end of his happy trail.

I walked through the sitting room and then through the ten foot door into his territory. I was struck by how elegant and regal the room was. It had large windows overlooking the garden and maze and a side window overlooking a small lake that lay at the end of the groomed garden. The entire room was covered in deep azure drapes with a gold weave and ribbon at the top and bottom. I reached out and f
ingered them. They were made from fine silk damask. In front of the fireplace were a desk and chair as well as two overstuffed chairs. Along the walls, attached through the drapes were works of art. I noticed a statue of another winged angel holding up an orb that served as a light. The bed looked as if it was a massive king sized bed topped with a canopy that sat at an angle to the room to take advantage of the gorgeous view of both the fireplace and the garden. The bedspread was made of silk and cotton in a light blue with gold braid and tassels at the bottom. In the middle was a gold circle with the same dark angel embroidered into the fabric. The room was beautiful, neither masculine nor feminine.  I was very impressed with Gemma’s taste.

“My you did a great job decorating.”

“I haven’t touched it.”

“I meant the royal you. You and Gemma.”

“Gemma? I wouldn’t let Gemma decorate it. She has enough to do with her own renovations. It’s the same as when my father was alive. I see no reason to change it. I find it beautiful. I did make some changes in the sitting room. The television and the stereo.”

“Are you going to live here or in Cambridge?”

“When I finally get everything settled, I hope to go back to Addenbrookes.”

“I hope you do too. You’re a great doctor.” I couldn’t help but smile, but he didn’t smile back. “I’m going to go to take my shower now and then take a nap.”

“Good idea.” 

I walked through the sitting rooms to my room, pulled out the underwear that had been carefully pack
ed into the drawers of a large chifferobe. I was already regretting coming.  In an effort to preserve what dignity I still had, I had come to England embracing a lie, a lie that would keep people from pitying me. 

I put on a pair of black leggings and a green tunic sweater. Springtime in England is still chilly, at least for someone from California. And big houses tend to be perpetually chilly. The tunic sweater had a cute choir collar and an empire waist, the rest of the sweater billowed down like a short skirt.

I knew my face was chubbier. I had gained ten pounds since going home. I was just hoping to hide all the excess pounds I had put on since going home by wearing clothes that weren’t form fitting.

Having
slept most of the way over, I wasn’t really tired. I grabbed my bar review book and went down to the library to study.  I was immersed in
Res Ipsa Loquitur
  when I heard a noise. Looking up, I saw Campbell. He seemed somewhat surprised to see me with my nose in a book and papers spread out all around me.

“Oh, Mags, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you
were studying, I was going to invite you to go down to the pub with me for an hour or so.”

I thought about it. I should study, but I was
always
studying. I slammed my book closed, “I’ll just take this up to my room.”

“Don’t bother, the staff will return it to the room. Come along.” I stood up and went with him. On our way out the door
, Campbell gave orders for the staff to put my things in my room.

A late model Jaguar pulled up and Campbell replaced the driver as I got into the passenger side. We started off down the gravel road towards the village.

“Where’s the Rover?”

“In the garage. I have to rotate the cars now or they do
n’t get driven. My mother uses the Rolls.” He went into detail about the cars, that there were six including his Rover and that he was thinking of selling the Land Rover and Ferrari. I listened, but I had no sympathy for his plight. At home I was driving a 1984 Honda CRX and praying I could keep it alive until I passed the bar. We pulled into the pub and were immediately greeted in the parking lot by a couple getting into their old Vauxhall.

“Your Lordship, good to see you home. How are you?  We heard about the wedding. Please wish the bride well; she’s a favorite
around here.”

Campbell gave a pleasant smile back, “Yes, thank you. I will John.”

As we placed our orders I asked Campbell, “Where is your mother?”

“She went to Italy for the spring. Italy gets too hot for her during the summer.”

“Does she live here or Dunskey or...where?”

“She’s going to go up to the Lake District this summer. She’ll be back down to Robscott in the fall, but she’s decided to stay in the Dowager’s house.  I told her she should stay in the main house, but she says it’s too big for her when I’m not here.”                 

There were many more greetings, some formal, some from people who obviously had known Campbell his whole life. One was a man, Ian, only a few years older than Campbell, with curly auburn hair and freckles.  He was a wine merchant and apparently knew Campbell well.  A large man with thick fingers, Ian hardly fit the image of someone you’d imagine handling bottles of fine wine. But he had a big supersized grin that he flashed all the time. I liked him right away.

“Who’s this Cam?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. Maggie McGee, this is Ian MacPherson. He’s a distant relative of mine.  The poor relations.”  Campbell grinned in a teasing manner.

Ian looked at Campbell. “Does Lady Falkirk know you’re Scottish ass is out gallivanting around with pretty Irish lasses?”

“She knows Maggie. I don’t think she’d mind.”

I thought to myself,
Sure Gemma won’t mind now that she has him hook, line and sinker.
  I decided it was time to whip ups my big lie,
“I’m no threat to anyone. I have a boyfriend at home and so I have to be on my best behavior.”

I thought Campbell was going to say something. His mouth opened, but he stopped and then slowly took a drink of his Guinness.  He became very quiet and it irked me. It was okay for him to marry Gemma, but I couldn’t even date without him being upset. I took a drink of my orange juice and fumed. Ian could tell there had been a change in attitude so he quickly changed the subject.

“Did you know, Maggie, that Lord Falkirk, Lord Guilford and I used to play for hours in their wine cellar as kids?  Of course whenever Henry or I broke a bottle, Campbell always told his father it was his fault so that we wouldn’t get into trouble. His Lordship always let us play down there, I don’t know why.  Especially after we broke that Chateau Valandraud Saint-Emilion.”

“You mean, Henry broke it.
I had to take Madeline MacPherson to the proms that summer as penitence.” Campbell whined.

“So Maggie, are you here for the wedding?” Ian asked.

“Yes, I’m a bridesmaid.”

“Fiona has a girlfriend?” He sounded shocked.

“Yes, I consider her to be a good friend.” I said, defending Fiona.

Campbell offered, “He’s just shocked.  Fiona has a wide circle of friends, her sisters and two close male friends, but she’s never had a best friend that’s female.”

“Really?”

Ian nodded. “She’s always been a mother hen, looking after her boys and the extended brood. She finds most women silly.”