On Saturday morning the sky was clear and gloriously blue, with nary a cloud to be seen. There were no storms in the forecast, and the little seaside town of Longbourne couldn’t have ordered up a more perfect day for the regatta semi-finals had it tried.
Triangles of brightly coloured bunting flapped in the breeze, gaily crisscrossing the streets and decorating the narrow fronts of the houses, and booths and tables selling T-shirts, baked goods and other items lined the pavement and several of the side streets.
‘I’m glad you agreed to bring me along today,’ Holly told Hugh, and readjusted the crutch under her arm. ‘I just wish I didn’t have this stupid sprained ankle.’
He stopped, his face stamped with concern. ‘The doctor said it was all right. But if all this walking is proving too much for you, I’ll take you back to Cleremont…’
‘No,’ she said, a little too vehemently. The thought of returning to the estate, receiving glances from Hugh’s mother that could only be termed unfriendly, made Holly realise how relieved she was to escape the lavish but tense environs of the Darcy household.
‘No,’ she said again, more calmly. ‘In fact,’ she added, ‘I’m fine. It’s nice to spend some time together. I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you, too.’ He bent his head to kiss her and met her eyes. ‘I’m just relieved that you weren’t more seriously hurt. When I think of what might have happened to you, getting thrown from that beast Thor…’
‘Well, nothing happened. I’m fine.’ She smiled at him. ‘No broken bones, no concussion. And Lizzy meant no harm.’
Hugh’s smile faded. ‘Lizzy? I don’t understand. What does she have to do with your accident?’
Oh, shit, Holly thought, and suppressed a groan. Why, why, why did I have to open my gob and mention Lizzy? She’ll never forgive me.
‘Nothing,’ she said quickly. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘Holly,’ he said, his face set in an implacable expression, ‘what, exactly, do you mean? What did Lizzy do? Was she somehow responsible for your fall?’
‘No, of course not! You saw what happened. Lightning struck, Thor bolted… Lizzy had nothing to do with it.’
But he was not to be deterred. ‘Then why did you say she “meant no harm”?’ he demanded. ‘Tell me, Holly. Tell me what happened.’
Miserable, she caught her lip between her teeth. ‘It’s nothing, really. Only, Lizzy insisted I ride Thor, even though she knew I didn’t want to, because…’
His face was like thunder. ‘Because why?’
‘Because,’ Holly said in a small voice, ‘she wanted to show that she was the better horsewoman. She wanted to impress you, and to… to show me up. That’s all.’
‘That’s all?’ he breathed, and a dark flush of anger stained his cheeks. ‘Holly, you might have been badly hurt, or even killed, all because of some sort of – of ridiculous equestrian rivalry on Lizzy’s part?’
‘You make it sound much worse that it was. She had no way of knowing that lightning would strike so close by, or that Thor would bolt…’
‘We were in the middle of a thunderstorm, Holly! A storm she knew very well was coming. Yet she pushed you to you ride Thor, a challenging horse under the best of circumstances, while I…’ He stopped and shook his head in disgust. ‘While I did nothing, only told you to hurry up, and stop dawdling.’
Oh, crap, this was really, really bad. Holly cursed herself for so stupidly bringing Lizzy’s actions – ill advised, yes, but essentially harmless – to Hugh’s attention.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, and clutched his hand. ‘It’s over, and I’m fine, and no harm was done. Please, Hugh – don’t say anything to Lizzy. She feels badly enough as it is. She’s already being punished for what she did… that’s why she’s not here today. Her father told her she couldn’t come to the regatta.’
‘Where is she?’
‘In Litchfield, helping Mr Bennet with the church fête at St Mark’s.’ Her fingers tightened in his. ‘Please, Hugh, don’t say anything. She’s apologised and I’ve let it go. Please tell me that you will, too.’
He studied her, his eyes dark and his mouth set in a grim line. ‘Very well,’ he said after a moment, and the tension in his face eased. ‘If that’s what you want, we’ll say no more about it.’
‘Thank you.’ Relieved, Holly indicated a booth nearby, selling handmade candles of pale blue and beige wax encrusted with tiny seashells. ‘Look at those candles! How pretty. Do you think I should buy one?’
‘I think,’ he said as he took her arm and smiled down on her indulgently, ‘that you should buy as many as you like.’
***
A white flag emblazoned with a red circle was hoisted up the marina’s mast. The Longbourne semi-finals were about to begin.
‘This is so exciting!’ Charlotte exclaimed as she stood by the railing next to Ciaran, one hand atop her hat to keep it in place and one hand resting on his arm. ‘Will the race start soon?’
He nodded. ‘In five minutes. The blue “P” flag goes up next, signalling four minutes to start time; then it comes down, followed by a long blast of the horn. When the class flag is lowered – that white one you see now, with the red dot – the race begins.’
‘Will you captain the ship?’ she asked.
‘No. I’m crewing. Speaking of which,’ he added as he took her firmly by the elbow, ‘it’s time you went below to wait in the lounge. I don’t want you getting in the way of the crew. Some of them still think it’s bad luck to have a female aboard.’
She stopped and smiled up at him. ‘And do you?’
‘On the contrary, I quite like having you aboard.’ He bent forward and kissed her. ‘Now go.’
‘Can’t I stay up here on deck with you?’ she pouted. ‘Please?’
‘Sorry, no.’ He swatted her playfully on the rear and led her to the companionway. ‘Down you go, gorgeous girl. Give me another kiss and wish me luck.’
Charli flung her arms around him. ‘I do wish you the best of luck, Ciaran. Make sure the captain wins this race for you.’
‘I will.’ His arm came around her waist and tightened briefly. ‘We’ll celebrate properly afterwards.’
Then he pressed such a dazzling, head-spinning kiss on her mouth that it was all she could do to stumble down the companionway in a daze and make her way to the stateroom, where she sank back onto the sofa to wait.
***
‘They’re lowering the signal flag,’ Darcy observed. ‘The race is about to start.’
Holly’s eyes scanned the yachts that waited, sails billowing, at the starting line. ‘Look – there’s the Pemberley.’ She waved, hoping to glimpse a head of ginger hair and get a wave or a wide, cheeky grin in return. But there was no sign of Harry.
‘He’s probably on the quarterdeck with the captain,’ Hugh, guessing her intent, said as he drew her arm through his and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, the Pemberley’s in good hands.’
‘I’m surprised you’re not on board,’ Holly said.
He shrugged. ‘I’m not much inclined to racing. I enjoy sailing, but I’ve no interest in competitions like this. I leave it to Harry to win the regatta cups and trophies.’
She saw another vessel floating alongside the Darcy yacht and studied it. ‘Whose is that?’ she asked as she admired the teak decks and trim lines.
Before Hugh could respond, she had her answer as a man in tan chinos and a white polo appeared and leaned for a moment on the ship’s railing. His arms were lightly muscled and a diver’s watch glinted on his wrist.
Holly stiffened. She’d know that handsome, world-famous face anywhere, despite the sunglasses thrust over his eyes. After all – she’d been engaged to marry him this time last year.
‘Isn’t that Ciaran Duncan?’ she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
Hugh followed her gaze, and his expression darkened. ‘Yes. That must be the Meryton. He’s competing in the semi-finals race. I just hope he doesn’t try anything.’
‘Try anything?’ she echoed. ‘Like what? You don’t really think he’d cheat to win, do you?’
But even as she said the words, Holly knew only too well that Ciaran Duncan would, indeed, cheat. He’d do whatever it took to gain first place, especially if winning meant besting Hugh Darcy’s younger brother.
But before she could ponder the matter further, the ‘P’ flag was lowered, and a long blast of the horn sounded.
The Longbourne regatta was about to start.
***
Lizzy Bennet set the last of her father’s scones out on the gingham-draped table and surveyed her efforts with a critical eye.
She’d used an assortment of vintage, mismatched china plates she’d found at a recent car boot sale. They hadn’t cost much – five quid for a box – but they showed Daddy’s scones off to best advantage.
Now, if she could just unearth a vase somewhere, and plunk a few cottage roses or hydrangea blooms inside…
‘You’ve done an excellent job,’ Mr Bennet said approvingly as he joined her. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised if my scones don’t sell out completely this year.’
‘It’s perfect weather for the fête,’ she agreed. ‘Although,’ she added with a trace of wistfulness as she glanced around her, ‘everyone seems to be at the regatta today.’
He frowned. ‘Yes. It’s rather unfortunate timing on the church’s part, I admit. Still – when one isn’t given the best to work with, one must do the best one can to make it work.’ He beamed.
Lizzy said nothing, only nodded glumly at her father’s well-worn adage. She wondered what Hugh was doing right now. It was long after eight o’clock, so the race was underway. Hopefully Harry and his skipper would bring the Pemberley across the finish line first…
‘You wish you were at the regatta, don’t you.’
It wasn’t a question her father asked, but a statement, and Lizzy nodded again. ‘I do. I won’t lie.’
‘Well, I’ll tell you what. Stay here until eleven,’ Mr Bennet said as he consulted his watch, ‘and then you’re free to go. I’ll ask one of the parish ladies to take you to Longbourne. At least you can catch the afternoon half of the race.’
She looked up then, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with excitement. ‘Thank you, Daddy!’ She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You’re beyond wonderful. The best. I’ll sell every single one of these scones before I leave. Just watch me!’
Mr Bennet eyed her with an indulgent smile. ‘Lizzy, my dearest girl – haven’t you learned anything yet?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean,’ he said dryly, ‘that you shouldn’t make promises you can’t possibly keep.’
***
‘What a lovely day for the regatta,’ Lady de Byrne pronounced.
Holly, buying herself a cup of lemonade at one of the booths lining the street, turned to see Hugh’s godmother standing behind her in white trousers and a boat-necked, blue-and-white-striped bateau.
‘Lady Georgina,’ she said, and smiled. ‘You look very nautical today. It suits you.’
‘Thank you, my dear. I thought it appropriate under the circumstances.’ She glanced over Holly’s shoulder. ‘Where is Hugh? Did he not come along with you today? You shouldn’t be managing those crutches on your own, particularly not in this crowd.’
‘Oh, that’s kind, but I’m fine. Hugh’s just gone to get us something to eat. Would you like a lemonade?’ she offered.
Lady de Byrne declined. She dug in her purse – a vintage straw handbag – and thrust on a pair of white cat’s-eye sunglasses. ‘I think I’ll go and watch the race. Quite an exhilarating spectacle, isn’t it, with those billowing sails and prows slicing through the water. I do hope the Pemberley wins.’
‘I do, too.’ Holly paused. ‘You know Ciaran Duncan’s in the race as well, don’t you? He and Harry are neck and neck so far.’
‘Ah, yes, the Meryton. An impressive vessel,’ she noted dismissively, ‘but not half so impressive as the Darcy yacht.’ She tilted her head back and added, ‘I shouldn’t worry. Mark my words – young Harry will win the race. He’ll make us all proud.’
‘He’s quite the sailor, according to Hugh. Even if he’s not actually sailing the ship, only crewing.’ She sighed. ‘I can’t imagine ever being half as intrepid as Harry. He’s amazing.’
‘You like him, don’t you?’
Holly glanced at her in surprise. ‘Yes, of course I like him. He’s looked after me since I arrived, visiting me at Rosings when I sprained my ankle, making me laugh at the silliest things, and…’ she stopped, and blushed. ‘And commiserating with me about his mother,’ she admitted.
‘Yes, Lady Darcy can be quite intimidating when she wishes,’ Lady de Byrne agreed. ‘Harry’s an impressive young man, considerate and loyal, if a bit less serious-minded than his brother.’
‘They’re like chalk and cheese,’ Holly agreed. ‘Hard to believe sometimes that they’re brothers.’
‘I wonder… do you think, perhaps, that you might feel a bit more for Harry than friendship?’
Holly stared at Hugh’s godmother. ‘What do you mean? You’re not saying what I think you are…?’
‘I’m saying I think you’d best be careful, Miss James,’ Lady de Byrne said, her words measured, ‘or Hugh’s heart won’t be the only one that gets broken.’
And with a polite nod, she turned away and disappeared into the crowd.