The Butterfly Box(138)

‘She’s infatuated,’ said Molly tightly.

‘Yes, she’s happy,’ Hester replied. ‘I’ve never seen her so happy. He gives her so much attention. Calls her all the time, takes her out. She’s blossoming.’



‘He looks like her father,’ Molly stated.

‘Her father?’ Sam exclaimed, appalled. ‘How old is he, for God’s sake?’

‘Thirty-eight,’ Molly said, raising her eyebrows at her brother, indicating her disapproval.

‘What the hell is she doing with someone so old!’ Sam retorted crossly. ‘He’s twenty years older than she is.’



‘Age doesn’t matter if they love each other,’ Hester argued.

‘Yes it does,’ Sam interjected. ‘She’s impressionable.’

‘What’s the difference? She’ll be impressionable with whoever she goes out

with.' said Hester.

‘I don’t like the sound of it at all.' Sam sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.

‘Well, you can tell her yourself, she’s coming over for drinks tonight,’ Molly suggested. ‘But she’s not bringing Torquil,’ she added in disappointment.

Sam marched across the cliffs with Trotsky and Amadeus, his mother’s new spaniel, watching the waves wrestle with the rocks below, covering them in white foam before retreating to gain momentum for another lashing. He braced himself against the icy wind, pulling his coat around him tightly and hunching his shoulders in an effort to keep warm. Trotsky strode along behind his feet, using him as a shield against the wind, while Amadeus rushed about in a hurry to sniff everything. He thought about Federica crossly, unable to understand why he cared. The kiss in the barn had been a sweet moment of innocent pleasure. It had meant nothing more than that: a kiss on a rainy night. He hadn’t planned on kissing her, it had just happened. Afterwards he had felt guilty for taking advantage of her. It was so obvious that she adored him. Then he had impulsively offered to drive her back to her uncle’s house one autumn

day and they had walked in that heavenly golden light. He had wanted to kiss her up there overlooking the sea. It had been the most romantic moment of his life. That sky, that colour, those smells and Federica looking innocent and ethereal. He couldn’t admit his longing, even to himself. She was so much younger than him. He could have anyone he wanted, but Fede had been too young and out of bounds. He thrust his hands into his pockets and sighed heavily. He had felt guilty for desiring her, so he had avoided her again. A cowardly way to go about things, but it was all he could do. He had managed to convince himself that he felt nothing for her whatsoever. But now she was in love with someone else. He wasn’t used to not being the focus of her affections. He hoped the relationship wouldn’t last. First relationships often didn’t.

This Torquil Jensen rings a bell,’ Toby said as they drove up the lane to the manor.



‘You won’t have met him,’ Federica replied from the back seat.

‘We have met him,’ Julian insisted, shaking his head. ‘But I can’t remember when.’

‘He’s a bit old for you, Fede.’

‘He’s older but not too old,’ Federica replied happily ‘Love strikes regardless of age. And we love each other.’

‘Please tell me he hasn’t deflowered you yet, sweetheart?’ Julian asked anxiously. ‘I’ll kill him if he’s laid a finger on you.’

Federica laughed. ‘No, not yet,’ she replied in amusement, feeling a shudder of excitement at the thought of making love to Torquil for the first time.

‘Thank God for that!’ Julian sighed.

‘Don’t let him push you into doing anything you don’t want to do. He’s a man of experience but you’re a child.’

‘Darling Toby, I’m not a child any more,’ she said. ‘I’m eighteen.’

‘So grown up,’ Toby replied sarcastically.

‘Just don’t do anything stupid. You’ll go through lots of boyfriends before you find Mr Right,’ said Julian. ‘And we want to vet all of them.’

‘Well, you can meet Torquil whenever you like,’ she said, leaning forward between the seats. ‘You’ll love him. He’s handsome, funny, sophisticated, worldly • • •’

‘He must have some faults,’ said Toby. ‘We all have faults.’

‘Not Torquil.’ She sighed dreamily. ‘He’s perfect.’

Toby and Julian locked eyes, but it wasn’t the moment to share their wisdom.

When Federica walked into the sitting room at Pickthistle Manor, where her mother, Arthur and Hal were already celebrating Christmas Eve with glasses of champagne and admiring the pretty white dove that sat at the top of the tree observing them, Sam felt as if someone had just thumped him in the stomach. She looked radiant in a pair of black leather trousers and pale blue cashmere sweater that clung to her slim frame, emphasizing the swell of her breasts in the V of the neckline. Her long white hair shone with health and fell about her shoulders, setting off the pale skin of her face and the depth of her tanzanite eyes. She embraced Hester and Molly and remained a while by the door talking with animation. Sam felt his throat constrict and drained his glass of champagne in an effort to loosen it. He watched her without distraction. Molly and Hester were right, she looked different. She looked happy.