A cold spell the following week saw the last of the autumn leaves fall. Come Wednesday, Kate was glad to get into the sweet, musty warmth of d’Artagnan’s stable to muck out and saddle up. The big grey greeted her with his customary nose-butt and treated her to a silent but violent outlet of gas when she walked around him to unhook his rug.
‘What a charmer,’ she drawled, wrinkling her nose.
D’Artagnan turned his head to look behind at her and appeared to smirk.
‘Watch it, sunshine, or I’ll tell on you. I’m seeing your daddy tonight,’ said Kate, brandishing a body brush at him.
D’Artagnan tried to eat the brush.
Nicholas had called on Monday and suggested they dine in Bristol tonight. Apart from the fact she didn’t know what she was going to wear (how was one supposed to look sexy when the temperature outside was close to freezing?), she was looking forward to it. It couldn’t be worse than the last date.
*
An hour later, as dawn crept over the hillside, Kate guided d’Artagnan high-stepping onto the path to the Gallops. In a neighbouring paddock a flock of geese had taken a respite from their migration. D’Artagnan watched with interest, ignoring Kate’s request to circle at the foot of the hill.
‘Kate, come on!’ yelled Frankie, waiting astride Bold Phoenix.
Kate sawed on d’Artagnan’s right rein and bounced her heels off his ribs. D’Artagnan flicked an ear then, with a snort, deigned to give his attention back to his rider.
Bold Phoenix fretted to follow the pair of horses setting off ahead. He pawed the ground in anticipation and snatched at the reins.
‘Oy, come on,’ Kate muttered to her horse. ‘Where’s your head this morning?’
Bold Phoenix gave a half-rear.
‘We’re off,’ said Frankie, unable to hold him any longer.
With a lead, d’Artagnan showed a little more enthusiasm, and strode out in a steady rhythm. The frigid wind burnt Kate’s cheeks as she cajoled him for more speed. D’Artagnan wouldn’t be rushed though, and he completed the workout without breaking a sweat.
Maybe it was the heavy going. Maybe he still hadn’t recovered from his race. Maybe he was just having an off-colour day. All the possibilities ran through her head as she and Frankie walked back down the hill and past Jack’s Land Rover parked at halfway.
Jack waited for them, hands tucked deep in his pockets as he leaned against the vehicle, collar rucked up around his neck.
Kate could see where Saskia was coming from. Anyone who didn’t find Jack ruggedly attractive needed a CT scan, but that wasn’t excuse enough to try split him up from his family.
‘Did that feel as bad as it looked?’ he asked.
Kate nodded. ‘He just felt lethargic the whole way, even from the get go.’
Jack chewed his lip as he studied d’Artagnan snorting dragon plumes of fog from his nostrils. ‘It’s probably nothing. Just give him a check over before you put him on the walker. Take his temperature.’
‘Sure. I think he’s just having one of those days.’
Jack pushed himself away from the car. ‘Can’t afford to have many of those if he’s going to Cheltenham,’ he muttered as he opened the door.
Kate pulled d’Artagnan to a halt. The wind, whistling in her ears, must have distorted his words. ‘What did you say?’
Seeing Kate’s look of shock, Jack’s customary frown softened and he gave a half-smile. ‘I said he’d better get his act together if he’s going to join The Whistler in the Gold Cup.’
*
Later that evening, Kate practically ran from her car to the entrance of Lo Russo Italian Restaurant on Bristol Harbour promenade. Nicholas was relaxing on a leather couch in the soft-lit lounge, gazing out of the window. Kate couldn’t contain her elation and hugged him tight before he’d even managed to stand.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Thank you so much.’
Nicholas laughed and disentangled himself. ‘I’m guessing Jack has already told you then.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, thank you, Nicholas. I can’t tell you how happy this has made me. D’Artagnan will do you proud, I promise.’
‘Touch wood,’ said Nicholas. ‘The Whistler’s good, but...’ He gave a sceptical shake of his head and Kate squeezed his hands.
‘I know d’Artagnan hasn’t done as much, but he can be just as good. I know it.’
Nicholas gave an awkward chuckle, probably uncomfortable with her gratitude. ‘Just out of interest, what exactly did Jack tell you?’
‘That he and The Whistler would both be in the Gold Cup.’ Kate gave an ecstatic sigh and plonked herself down on the couch beside him. ‘The Gold Cup,’ she murmured. ‘Gosh, I would’ve been happy with an entry in the Ryanair or even the Festival Handicap, but the Gold Cup – wow.’ Kate could almost burst with pride that d’Artagnan’s potential was being recognised.
‘Right. Yes, well – um – even if it doesn’t work out, you can still say your horse played a part in the Festival. And that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?’
Kate laughed. ‘Yes, but the Gold Cup? You’ve gone above and beyond anything I could’ve wished for.’
Nicholas shrugged like it was no big deal. ‘I wanted to make it special for you.’
Kate hugged him again. His minty cologne filled her sinuses as she gave a great sigh of contentment. Knowing Nicholas would be too much of a gentleman to take advantage of the situation, she smoothed his hair away from his forehead and trailed her fingers down his cheek.
Nicholas’s gaze flickered from her eyes to her mouth. ‘And I mean that, Kate. You are special to me.’
She leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were soft, almost childlike. No stubble grazed her skin, and, stealing a peek, she saw his eyes were closed, long choir boy eyelashes fanning his cheeks. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
Nicholas cleared his throat and darted an uncomfortable look around. ‘You’re welcome.’ He caught the eye of a waiter. ‘Let’s get you a drink, shall we? What would you like?’
‘Orange juice, please.’
‘You sure you don’t want anything stronger?’
‘No, thanks. I’m not a big drinker.’
Kate’s mobile phone rang as Nicholas placed their drinks order. Xander lit up the screen. Mumbling her apologies, she cut the call without answering.
‘Sorry. My brother,’ she explained.
‘Ah, yes. They do get a bit bothersome, don’t they?’
‘He’s not that bad. He’s only fifteen.’
Her phone rang again and she laughed. ‘I take that back.’ She cut the call once more and pocketed her phone. ‘I’m sorry. You don’t ever want to meet my family.’
‘I hope I will one day,’ replied Nicholas with a smile. He looked at his watch. ‘Shall we go see if our reservation is ready?’
*
They were shown to their table and Kate tried to put her brother’s phone calls out of her head.
‘How has your week been otherwise?’ Nicholas asked.
‘Cold.’
‘Can’t be particularly pleasant working outside at this time of year.’
Kate shrugged. It was the rain that she really didn’t like. ‘It’s not so bad when you’re on the move the whole time. You warm up pretty fast.’
Nicholas took her hand and ran his thumb over her calloused fingers. ‘Poor things must take a real battering.’
Kate flushed. Nicholas’s hands looked more feminine than hers, soft and well-groomed. She imagined they hadn’t done anything more strenuous than count out bank notes. ‘I do use hand cream when I can,’ she said. ‘But it’s not the sort of thing you think of to do in between mucking out and riding.’
‘You should treat yourself to a day at the spa. My mother goes every week to one in Bath. I’m sure she could get you a discount as a member’s guest.’
Kate blushed even more. She subtly withdrew her hand and buried it in her lap. ‘That would be kind.’
Nicholas regarded her for a moment, his lips parted in anticipation of a question, but he appeared to change his mind, instead looking down at his menu.
‘Are you going to The Golden Miller’s Halloween party this weekend?’ Kate asked.
‘You mean, come in fancy dress?’
Kate nodded. ‘It’s a laugh. People come in some crazy costumes.’
‘I don’t know. It’s not really my cup of tea,’ said Nicholas, not able to meet her eye.
‘You don’t have to go to extremes if you don’t want to. My costume’s hardly going to win any prizes.’
Nicholas gave a hesitant smile. ‘I’ll think about it, okay?’ and took refuge behind his menu.
Kate’s mobile vibrated in her pocket, letting her know a message had arrived. Nicholas was still glued to his menu, so she gave in to curiosity. Xander didn’t call very often.
Instead it was from Saskia.
Xander keeps trying to call me. Doesn’t he know I have a life?
Kate bit her lip. It was even rarer for Xander to call Saskia. A feeling of unease wormed its way into her gut.
‘Nicholas – um – would you excuse me for a minute? Just going to pop to the loo.’
Nicholas looked up, his gaze snagging on her chest, which she couldn’t blame him for considering the last time they’d played out this scene. ‘Don’t you want to order first?’
‘I won’t be a minute.’
*
In the safety of the Ladies, Kate redialled Xander’s number.
‘Hey,’ came her brother’s droning voice.
‘Everything okay?’
‘I can’t wake Mum up and I’m hungry.’
‘Can’t you make something for yourself? Noodles or a sandwich or something?’
‘There’s no food.’
Kate pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Can you order a takeaway?’
‘No money. Can you come over?’
‘Now isn’t a good time, Xander. I’m on a date.’
‘Oh, okay.’
Kate sighed. ‘Try wake Mum up again. She can’t be that bad.’
‘I’m trying. She’s still sleeping.’
‘Give her a shake.’
‘I am. She’s not budging.’
In the mirror, Kate saw her eyes widen in panic. ‘What do you mean exactly, Xander?’
‘I’m shaking her and... Mum!’ Xander yelled, then quieter to Kate, ‘See? No response.’
Kate stilled. Maybe her mother’s condition was more serious than she thought – than either of them thought. ‘Okay. I’m on my way.’
*
Nicholas was waiting, his menu folded away, when she returned.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked when he saw her expression.
‘I just spoke to Xander. I’m sorry to be a pain...’
‘Is something wrong?’
‘Just a bit of a family crisis. I—’ Kate hesitated, hating to be such an inconvenience.
Nicholas gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Do you need to go?’ he said.
‘I don’t want to, Nicholas. It feels so terribly ungrateful to leave, but...’ She chewed the lipstick off her lower lip, torn between loyalties.
‘It’s okay. You should go.’
Kate knew she had to take the out he was giving her. She unhooked her handbag from the back of her chair and looked at him, her expression anguished. ‘I’m so sorry, but I think I should. I’ll explain everything to you – just not quite yet.’