Securing her hair in a rough ponytail at her nape, Jess then pulled out a knitted bobble hat and tugged it down over her ears. Coat on and zipped to the neck, feet and calves snug in her furry boots, she cast one last glance in the mirror as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. She should’ve stayed at home tonight. It was clear she didn’t fit in here, and the idea of spending another second around people who thought so little of her they made up cruel nicknames behind her back was more than she could stomach. It turned out she wasn’t a blue velvet dress kind of girl, after all. And, she thought as she reached for the door handle, that was just fine with her.
Thanks to a points failure, it took Jess ages to get home and by the time she slotted her key into the front door all she wanted was to crawl into her pyjamas and curl up in bed with a mug of hot chocolate. Before she could turn the key, the door was yanked open and she was confronted with the sight of Steve, her brother’s best friend, red-eyed, his face an agonised mask. ‘Oh, Jess,’ he said, dragging her into his arms. ‘He’s gone. Marcus is gone.’
No. No, no, no, no, no. It couldn’t be, he couldn’t be, not her darling big brother. After everything they’d been through with him the past couple of years. The endless worry, the thousands of pounds her parents had spent on rehab. A scream echoed down the stairs, inhumane, animalistic, a sound no human throat should be capable of making. As the waves of grief smashed into her, Jess clung to Steve, his strong arms the only thing that kept her from being swept away.
Present Day – the first week of September
Charlie Tanner, Tristan’s boss since he’d left university and the cofounder of a very successful events and PR firm he’d set up with his business – and life – partner Tim Beaman, took a sip of the wine poured by the waiter. Though Tristan had invited him to lunch and was footing the bill, he had left it to the older man to select the wine. Already feeling nervous about the news he was going to deliver, he could only hope the sop of a decent vintage would go some way to ease the news he was pretty sure Charlie wasn’t going to want to hear. Charlie raised his glass towards the light spilling in from the window, turned his glass a couple of times as he studied the ruby-red hue of the liquid in his glass before finally giving the waiter a nod. With the ritual of the wine selection over, he turned his hawk-like gaze to Tristan. ‘So, when are you coming back to us?’
Okay, so they were cutting straight to the chase. Tristan smiled his thanks at the waiter then reached for his own glass, more to give himself time to word the answer than any real desire for a drink. Both Charlie and Tim had been incredibly understanding when Tristan had taken a twelve-month unpaid sabbatical in order to return home to help his brother, Arthur, and sister, Igraine, manage their ancestral home following their father’s death the previous autumn. Though he’d been happy to do everything he could to support Arthur, Tristan was grateful that being the youngest of the triplets meant the family title and all its burdens and responsibilities had not fallen on his shoulders.
During the bleak winter months when it’d seemed to do nothing but either rain, snow or some hideous combination of the two, Tristan had missed his busy life in London. Once the bluebells that had given the family castle its pretty nickname had started blooming and the hard work the three of them had invested started to pay off however, Tristan had found his thoughts straying less and less to the smart apartment he rented in Battersea and his job as a marketing executive in the city. ‘Yes, well that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,’ he said to Charlie with an apologetic wince.
‘Oh, balls. Don’t tell me we’re going to be losing both of you? When you invited me to lunch, I assumed you wanted to get up to speed on our current projects in preparation for your return.’ Charlie cast him a gloomy look then took a large swig of the rather fine burgundy. ‘Well, you know what they say about assuming things …’
It cut Tristan deeper than he’d expected to be letting the man opposite him down. Charlie had been an inspiration to him from the first day he’d started working at the events management and public relations firm. Both Charlie and Tim, chose to encourage rather than control their staff, giving them room to take chances as long as any failures were learning experiences.
Feeling wretched, Tristan braced his forearms on the edge of the table and met the older man’s gaze. ‘I’m really sorry. I should have given you a warning, I suppose, but I wanted to talk to you face to face and explain. After everything you’ve done for me, it seemed rude to put it in an email.’ Twisting his glass between his fingers, he studied the rich wine as though he could find the answers he owed his boss in its opaque surface. ‘If I’d thought for one moment I would find myself in this position then I would have resigned outright rather than requesting a sabbatical.’ He glanced up to find Charlie studying him over the steepled tips of his fingers.
‘What changed?’ There was no censure in this question, only genuine curiosity.
‘I fell in love.’ When Charlie quirked a brow, he laughed. ‘Not like that. As a second son, I always knew there was never any future for me at the castle and somewhere along the way my brain translated that into believing that I didn’t want there to be a future for me there. I told myself I was city boy, that life in the country was too slow-paced for me. And then somewhere along the line I found myself standing on the edge of our land looking out over the dales and I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.’
‘If that’s the case, then you can go with my blessing.’ Raising his glass in a silent toast, Charlie took another drink.
Relief flooded Tristan and he returned the gesture in tribute to everything the man opposite had done for him. As his worry over letting Charlie down began to dissipate, something else his boss had said earlier finally filtered through his awareness. ‘Hold up. What do you mean losing both of us? Who else is leaving?’
Setting down his glass, Charlie sat back in his seat with a sigh. ‘Jessica turned her notice in last month. Did you not know?’
Tristan swallowed. Cocooned in the microcosm of life behind the thick curtain wall of the castle, he’d been a bit lax in keeping in touch with his friends and co-workers. Several unread emails rested in his inbox. Fearing they would be asking him about his planned return, and not sure how to answer them, he’d stuck his head in the sand and ignored them.
‘Well, anyway,’ Charlie said after giving him a quizzical glance. ‘It’s her last day today. We’re having drinks in The Crown and Sceptre later; you should come along. I’m sure everyone would be delighted to see you.’
Everyone apart from Jessica. They’d been great friends until he’d cocked it all up by coming on too strong at a work’s party. So desperate had she been to avoid his crass advances she’d done a runner, then hardly said two words to him on their return to work in the new year. Several years later, it was still a source of embarrassment that he’d managed to read what he’d thought was a mutual attraction so wrong. The fact she’d married some bloke she’d practically grown up with less than twelve months later had told him exactly how mistaken he’d been about the whole scenario.
Even with her own wedding to plan, Jess had still beaten him hands down to the permanent position on the events team they’d both been interning for. Her work ethic had been formidable, even back then. Luckily for Tristan an opening had come up in the corporate affairs side of the business and he’d been able to transfer across. Things had soon settled down