Chapter Twenty-Five

The Dower House, Present Day

There was a knock on the door of the Dower House and Lissy, hearing it from upstairs, leaned out of the window and saw Stef standing there, his camera slung around his neck as usual.

He raised his hand to rap once more and she shouted down to him. ‘It’s open! You should have just tried it!’

Stef looked up and his beloved, handsome face broke into a grin. ‘Aha! I didn’t want to just walk in on you. It might have been an embarrassing moment.’

Lissy laughed. ‘There’s nothing embarrassing going on in here. Did you bring your luggage?’

‘I did. I’ve checked out of the B & B, and everything is in my car.’

‘One of the rooms up here is going to be ideal for your studio,’ Lissy replied. ‘It’s got the best view and one of those funny little sconces we saw up at the Hall. I’m desperately hoping it’s the one that would light the way for the smugglers. Hold on. I’m coming down.’

She withdrew and hurried down the staircase, meeting Stef as he walked in through the front door. He caught her when she ran towards him and picked her up, swinging her around as she clung on, laughing.

‘Are you sure that this will be all right?’ he asked, finally setting her down with a kiss.

‘More than all right,’ she agreed. ‘The lease is mine for the summer. Nothing says I can’t invite a friend around.’

‘A friend?’ Stef raised his eyebrows. ‘Is that all we are?’

Lissy blushed and looked away. ‘We’re maybe a little more than friends.’

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Anyway – would you do me one favour, please?’

Lissy looked at him in surprise. ‘Of course. What is it? Do you need some help bringing the equipment in?’

‘I will later. But before that, would you mind walking up to the Hall with me again? I have been in touch with my friend and he asked would I be kind enough to take some photographs of the derelict building. We don’t need to go inside, don’t look such a scaredy-cat!’

‘But how is he going to see what it’s like if we don’t go inside?’ asked Lissy.

‘Well you don’t need to go inside, but maybe I do,’ amended Stef. ‘Anyway, I would like the company, sí?’

‘All right.’ Lissy reluctantly pulled on a pair of trainers and tugged her camisole down to meet the top of her shorts. ‘I’m ready, I suppose.’

‘Good.’ Stef took her hand and squeezed it. ‘I really don’t think it’s such a horrible place, you know. I will look after you, I’m here now.’

‘I just keep thinking of the things we saw up there,’ said Lissy as they left the Dower House.

‘Shadows, nothing more,’ replied Stef and raised her hand to kiss it.

Lissy moved closer to him, and soon they were strolling up to the ruin, their arms around each other.

‘I’d like to see around the back of the house,’ mused Stef. ‘I would like to try and get a few shots from that direction. The angle of the afternoon sun helps, I think.’

‘Whatever you want, but I’m running away if I see anything odd again.’

‘I can catch you though. You only have little legs.’

Lissy laughed. ‘It’s not my fault I’m short!’

‘Good things come in small packages,’ said Stef, quite seriously.

‘So does poison. I’ve been told that one before. You know, like Circe and her jealous love.’

She cast a glance up to him, but he merely shrugged and kept his eyes fixed on the Hall as they approached it. ‘Circe? Who is Circe? I’ve never heard that name before. Here we are! Around the back, I think. Yes, let’s get it done immediately.’

He guided her around the edge of the building and as they took the corner, Lissy came to a sudden halt. ‘What’s that?’ she demanded.

In the centre of the lawn, beneath an ancient, gnarled tree, was a rusted old wrought iron table and two chairs, equally in a state of disrepair. On the table was a flask and a white box.

‘It seems to be a picnic of sorts – or maybe an afternoon tea,’ said Stef, feigning surprise. ‘Shall we investigate?’

Lissy held back. ‘Did you do this? Where did you get the furniture?’

‘Oh, I could never hide much from you, could I? Yes, I did do this, and I found the furniture in one of the old outbuildings. It has all seen better days, but it seemed a shame to leave it in there. Don’t worry, I gave it all a good clean before I brought you here. I know how you dislike grubby things – like your poor niece.’

‘I don’t dislike her! I love Grace! But one must admit that she does attract the dirt. So—’ Lissy took her hand out of Stef’s and moved forward. ‘A flask and a box. I presume it’s a box of cake?’

‘From a good old-fashioned bakery in Whitby. I had to queue for a long time to get served. It is a very, very popular place.’

Lissy just shook her head. ‘And dare I ask what’s in the flask?’

‘Hmm. Well it’s not champagne, as I think tea goes better with cake. It’s a very English thing. I tried to put hot chocolate in, but it just resulted in a gloopy mess. I’m sorry.’

Lissy burst out laughing. ‘Tea is fine. Shall I get pouring and you can start your photos?’

Stef raised his camera and framed the table. ‘I can start right now. And to be honest, I took plenty of photographs earlier when I came to set this up. We can just enjoy the tea and cake. I thought you could pretend you were Lady Scarsdale.’

‘Simply delighted to be her.’ Lissy dropped a beautiful curtsey.

Stef laughed and followed her to the table. He placed his camera on the surface, then pulled one of the chairs out for her.

As she sat down, he took the opposite seat. ‘I’ll unscrew the flask,’ he said. ‘You open the cakes. You can choose which one you prefer.’

‘Anything that involves chocolate and cream will always be my first choice.’ She lifted the lid of the box eagerly.

A wedge of chocolate cake greeted her, along with a slice of strawberry gateau, and she was about to comment on them, when she spotted something else. ‘Oh! What’s this?’ She pointed at a small package, wrapped up in a paper napkin.

‘Oh – that,’ responded Stef. ‘It’s for you.’

‘Really? Can I open it?’

‘You can. I just hope it’s not sticky.’

‘It’s not, it’s well wrapped, whatever it is.’ She unfolded the napkin and the world seemed to stand still. A battered red leather box, embossed with a jeweller’s name in gold lettering revealed itself. ‘Stef!’ Lissy looked up and saw that Stef had slid from the wrought iron chair to the grass and was, even now, on one knee, looking up at her.

‘Please? Open the box, cara mia.’

Lissy began to shake. ‘Is it what I think it is?’ she whispered, the years rolling back to Cornwall and an antiques dealer and a ring.

‘I don’t know what you are thinking,’ replied Stef, ‘but if you open the box it might help.’

Lissy nodded, speechless, and lifted the lid.

On a faded, red velvet cushion was a platinum ring. The centre was a solitaire diamond; a round, brilliant circle which, when you tilted it, would look like a glorious diamond spinning-top from the side. It was Edwardian and Old European cut and the shoulders were set with filigree leaves and flowers and what looked like tiny waves cresting over the decorations.

‘Stef …’

‘If you don’t want it to be an engagement ring, that is perfectly fine,’ Stef said hurriedly. Lissy looked at him. Even when she had caught him with that girl, even after everything that she had thrown at him this summer, she had never seen him look so unsure of himself. This was a man who didn’t know what was coming next. This man was terrified.

‘It can be a friendship ring,’ he continued. ‘I went back to the shop the day we saw it and bought it for you then.’ He made to stand up, his face flushed. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing down here at all. I think I may have dropped a lens or something—’

‘Stef! Stop it.’ Lissy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘Tell me what you are really doing down there, or I promise I shall leave you kneeling there in misery.’

‘Honestly?’ Stef fixed dark eyes on hers.

‘Honestly,’ she replied.

Stef took a deep breath. ‘Lissy, I want to marry you. That is as honest as I can get. Will you do me the honour of being my wife? Not right now or not next month, and not even next year, not if you don’t want to. Just tell me that sometime in our future, I can be your husband, your lover, the father, perhaps of your children. It is all I have ever wanted, ever since I met you. And now, now I think I might be in a position to ask you.’ He looked down at the grass. ‘I am certainly in the correct position by kneeling, I think. But if you feel it should be different, then—’

‘Stop it. Just stop it.’ Before she could think, she was on her knees before him, his face in her hands. ‘Kiss me. Just kiss me. That will help me decide.’

‘It can be a friendship ring, truly. If that is all you want, take it as that. Take it as—’

‘Shut up, Stef.’ She pulled his face towards her and kissed him.

It felt right to have the ring now. It was its time and its place. It felt right to be with Stef, on the lawn, in front of Sea Scarr Hall, the tiny box between them.

‘It’s not going to be a friendship ring,’ she murmured as she pulled away. ‘Not at all. I don’t want to waste any more time without you.’ She pointed at the box. ‘It’s your turn now, Stefano Ricci. You have to do this next bit.’

Stef stared at her as if he had never seen her before. ‘Oh, my love,’ he whispered as she held her left hand out and splayed her fingers. He picked up the box and took the ring out. A ray of sunlight suddenly caught the diamond, sparking iridescent rainbows across the lawn and over the rusted white table. Lissy squinted as the gleam caught her unawares and looked away briefly, blinking. For a moment, out of the corner of her eye, the Hall was no longer a ruin, the table not rusted. The unkempt grass wasn’t cold beneath her bare knees, and her skin was protected by an ivory skirt. Her eyes were shaded by a cartwheel brimmed hat. The Hall was sturdy and thriving with people, laughter floated across the gardens.

But then, the images disappeared and she was back on her knees, in front of the man she loved; the man she had always loved.

And the ring fitted perfectly.

The Dower House, 1905

‘Stop the carriage!’ Walter rapped on the window and the carriage drew to a halt. He climbed out and threw some money at the driver, before sending him on his way.

The horses whinnied and their hoofbeats echoed as they disappeared into the distance, whilst Walter stood and surveyed the Dower House from the carriage drive.

‘I shall find out, and I shall destroy you both,’ he promised, and strode down to the little building overlooking the cove.

The fool had left the door unlocked, which made it much easier. He flung it open and stopped in the hallway, listening out for any sounds. It was silent. Walter looked at the staircase and felt his craving for her grow. He caught his breath, imagining her up there, coupling with that man. His eyelids fluttered briefly then he focussed on the steps and began to climb them.

He prowled around the entire upstairs, sniffing the air, checking for her scent, hoping he would see her naked and— NO!

He turned and headed back downstairs, checking out room after room, scanning the place for a ribbon or a shoe or a petticoat or— NO!

His desire mounting, he pushed open the final door and stood stock still.

‘You bastard!’ he yelled. He raced over to a collection of photographic plates and grabbed them, staring at them, his eyes raking them, his breath coming faster and faster. It was her, in black and white, burned forever into a glass plate. She mocked him with her filth and her promiscuousness, her mouth full and sensuous, her body sleek and taut … ‘You disgust me!’ He shouted at one of the plates. ‘You both disgust me!’

He turned and stormed out of the room, the plates in his hands. He arranged them on a table in the stairwell and, his breathing ragged, stared at them, imagining what she— NO!

Tearing his gaze away from the pictures, he caught sight of a gun propped up by the coat stand.

Without pausing, without thinking about how his own body was reacting to the static images, he grabbed the weapon, took aim, and fired.

It was early evening by the time Lorelei and Julian returned to the cove. They had taken a carriage to the top of the cliff path and walked the rest of the way down.

Lorelei slipped at one point and Julian grabbed her to stop her tumbling down – and then, he told her, it just didn’t seem necessary to let her go. She looked up at him, laughing, and agreed. So they wandered down the path in the cooling air, hand in hand, secluded from anybody who may have chanced to see them; like Walter.

Lorelei hoped again that Walter had stayed with Harriet. She would know soon enough. If there was a message from him about an imagined storm or a lame horse or whatever nonsense he trotted out this time, then she was determined to come back down to the Dower House and spend as much of the evening with Julian as she could.

She was just about to voice this plan to Julian, when she saw the front door of the Dower House swinging open and she stopped dead in her tracks.

‘Julian! Did you leave the door open this morning?’ she asked, pointing to it.

‘The door?’ Julian followed the direction of her finger and shook his head. ‘No. I made sure it was shut properly. It’s a wee bit stiff, so I gave it a good tug and made sure it was secure. There was a seagull inside three nights ago, so I determined to make sure of it ever since. Those damn birds get everywhere. But I did leave it unlocked, because I didn’t suspect anyone would come down here, but clearly I was wrong.’ He frowned. ‘It’s definitely open.’

‘It’s because we are so near Staithes. The seagulls love the fishing boats, but someone must have been in – it’s wide open!’ Lorelei’s stomach lurched a little. ‘Oh, Julian! I hope they haven’t stolen anything.’

‘I’ll bloody kill them if they have! I never bother locking it!’ He took off at a jog and Lorelei hitched up her skirts and hurried after him. She was confident there were no thieves around here, but she had such a bad feeling about this …

The sound of Julian cursing moments after he barged into the Dower House made her run even faster. She clip-clopped up the wooden steps in her sturdy, buttoned up boots and came up behind him.

‘Look! Just look what they did!’ he shouted. He jabbed his finger in the direction of the staircase. Lined up on the small table in the stairwell, were the three negative glass plates that showed Lorelei sitting on the rock. Or, more to the point, there were the shattered remains of the three negative glass plates that showed Lorelei sitting on the rock.

Each plate had been decimated by a shotgun. And there were three holes in the wall behind the table to prove it, along with a gun that had been tossed on the floor.

‘They even used my own shot gun! Bloody hell. I brought it with me in case there was shooting or hunting around here and I had a fear that I might be expected to attend a shooting party. God! What else have they done?’

He began to storm off towards the drawing room where Lorelei knew the bulk of his equipment was – but she reached out and touched his shoulder. He swung around and stared at her, a challenge in his eyes.

‘They won’t have done anything else.’ Lorelei’s voice was flat. ‘It was Walter. I know it was him. And I guarantee that those are the only things he has destroyed. He hated me being a model. Said it corrupted me. Maybe he’s right. He wouldn’t want to think I was doing it again.’

‘What? Well, I’ll kill the bastard!’ raged Julian. ‘Right here. Right now. Just let me go to the Hall and—’ He bent over and picked up his gun. There was an ominous click as Julian cocked the thing and began to stalk out of the house. Lorelei shrank back a little, suddenly scared. Julian was furious – she did not rate Walter’s chances should he catch him.

‘No. Julian, please,’ she shouted. ‘You can’t go up there. You can’t go to the Hall, you simply can’t. If you did kill him, what on earth would we do then? You’d be hung or something and I couldn’t cope with that.’

Julian paused and looked at her. ‘I don’t care what he does to me or what the consequences are. I care about you. I’m worried that when you go back there, he’ll hurt you. I can’t let that happen.’

‘Julian, please,’ she said on a sob. ‘Don’t go. Let me go back to the Hall. Let me get some things together and we’ll go away somewhere. We’ll go away tonight. We’ll go somewhere he can’t find me.’

‘Where? Where will we go? We’ve already established he’d come to Edinburgh.’

‘Then we’ll go somewhere different. We’ll go to London or Paris. I have friends there. They’ll help us. Or I’ll just go. You go to Edinburgh and send for me later.’

Julian put the safety catch on again and threw the gun down in disgust. He shook his head and went out onto the terrace. He sort of folded up so he was sitting there, facing the sea, and put his head in his hands and swore.

‘He won’t do anything to me,’ said Lorelei desperately, wanting to believe it, wanting Julian to believe it. ‘He won’t. He has too much to lose. He has a reputation to protect and this is easiest all round. We’ll just get the first train that comes in at the station. We’ll go anywhere it takes us. I can gather some things and I have a little money set aside.’

‘We don’t need your money!’ thundered Julian. He looked up at her with those dark brown eyes, so full of pain, and her heart twisted in her chest.

Lorelei dropped down beside him and took his face in hers. ‘Maybe not. But it can only help, can’t it? Let me go. Give me an hour and I’ll be back. I promise.’

‘What if—’ Julian began; but Lorelei pressed her fingers to his lips and shook her head.

‘Shhh. No “what if”s. I won’t allow them. I simply won’t.’

‘But—’

‘Same for “but”s, I’m going. I’ll be back in an hour. You pack what you need and we’ll go. I’ll get the carriage and we’ll load it up, then simply disappear.’

She stood up and looked out at the sea. Her heart twisted again. She wouldn’t miss anything about her life here at all – apart from the sea and the cove. But they were just hers by default anyway, weren’t they?

Resolutely, she turned her back to the sea, dropped a kiss on Julian’s head and began to run to the Hall before he could protest any more.