‘Don’t forget that man stole something precious from me—’
She turned her attention back to her father on the phone. ‘Do you mean the horses?’ she said, confused.
‘No. I mean your mother. Chico Fernandez stole your mother from me.’
Firming her lips, Lizzie shook her head in blank denial of this, but before she heard the details of the truth from Chico’s lips she doubted she would ever be totally certain of anything, and with Chico in Brazil and Lizzie in Scotland, there was no way that was ever going to happen now.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHE COULD SEE why people might believe that something had happened between Chico and Serena all those years ago. The pieces of the jigsaw could so easily be moulded to fit. A beautiful and bored young socialite with too much time on her hands tied to an unwanted child and a much older husband. Add a devastatingly attractive South American groom, and watch the sparks fly. Lizzie knew she shouldn’t listen to her father’s heavily biased views, but he had caught her at a particularly vulnerable time.
When she got off the train in Rottingdean village, Lizzie’s first stop was the lodge, to collect the keys to the big house. Chico had called a second time, but she still hadn’t taken his call. She couldn’t face talking to him. Today was all about her grandmother. Anything else would have to wait.
‘Lizzie! You’re back! Come in!’
Hamish, the gamekeeper, Annie’s husband, flung the door wide in welcome, instantly enveloping Lizzie in the familiar warmth of the cottage. Escaping the bitter chill of a winter’s day was like a hug, she thought as she stepped inside. There was a log fire burning lustily in the hearth, and warm woollen plaids draped invitingly over well-worn leather sofas, while the scent of freshly baked scones reminded Lizzie she hadn’t eaten in a while, but it was the warmth and concern on the faces of her two friends that drew her like a magnet into their home.
‘It’s so good to see you both again,’ she exclaimed, her voice muffled in Annie’s enthusiastic embrace.
‘Won’t you have a cup of tea with us, at least?’ Annie said, standing back, having sensed Lizzie’s tension.
Afraid of breaking down, Lizzie shook her head. ‘That’s very kind of you, but there’s so much to do, and I want to get back to the big house and open it all up again.’
‘Your grandmother’s death was a great sadness to all of us,’ Hamish said quietly.
He asked nothing of what the future would hold for him and Annie, Lizzie noticed as Hamish the gamekeeper handed her the keys. She didn’t know what she could do for them yet, but in spite of her grief she was determined to try. She clutched the keys in her hand until they bit into her palm. These weren’t just keys, they were a way of life. The future of everyone in the village was biting into her hand, reminding her of what she had to fight for.
‘I’m back for good,’ she said. ‘And somehow I’m going to straighten this mess out.’
‘We’re more worried about you, Lizzie,’ Hamish assured her in his soft Highland burr. ‘So please don’t be too proud to ask for help.’
‘I won’t be.’
But she could use a miracle, Lizzie reflected as she walked home briskly, collar up, head down against the icy wind. She might be determined to save the estate, but she still had to work out how to do it, and with no money and no prospect of a job, and not even the qualifications she had been relying on, she had hardly made the best of starts. She glanced at her phone. Chico hadn’t rung again. He had probably given up by now. He must have heard the news about her grandmother’s death, and would have rung to offer his condolences. She was grateful to him for that, but he belonged to a phase of her life that was over now. Like her grandmother she would have to stand on her own from now on.