‘Permission had already been given, decades ago—I have no idea how—but the company that undertook the project went bust and the castle was left to fall into disrepair. I undertook negotiations with the council and various heritage trusts and bought the place, and now...’
‘Now you’ve transformed it...’ Her voice was low and melodious.
Lost in contemplation of her surroundings, she shifted closer to him—and all of a sudden it seemed imperative to get out of the confines of the car, away from the tantalising hint of cinnamon she exuded, away from the warmth in her eyes and voice as she surveyed the castle and then him.
‘So, let me show you what I’ve done and hopefully that will trigger some ideas for you to think about.’
‘Perfect.’
The gravel of the vast path crunched under their feet as they walked to the refurbished ancient portcullis. Ethan inhaled the cold, crisp Cornish air, with its sea tang, and saw Ruby do the same, her cheeks already pink from the gust of the winter breeze.
They reached the door and entered the warmth of the reception area. A familiar sense of pride warmed his chest as he glanced round at the mix of modern and ancient. Tapestries adorned the stone walls, plush red armchairs and mahogany tables were strategically placed around the area, with Wi-Fi available throughout.
‘This is incredible,’ Ruby said.
‘Let me show you the rest.’
Ethan led the way along the stone-walled corridors and into the room destined to be the restaurant.
‘We believe this was once the banqueting hall,’ he said, gesturing round the vast cavernous room also with stone walls and floor.
‘Wow...’ Ruby stepped forward, her eyes wide and dreamy. She walked into the middle of the room and stood for a moment with her eyes closed.
Ethan caught his breath—Ruby got it. She felt the thrill of this place and that meant she’d do her best.
Opening her eyes, she exhaled. ‘I can see how this hall would have been in medieval times. Jugglers, singers, raconteurs—a great table laden with food...’
‘Let me show you the other rooms.’
Ruby paused outside a large room adjoining the hall. ‘What about this one?’
‘You don’t need to worry about that one.’
Ethan knew his voice was guarded, but he had no wish to share his full vision for the castle with Ruby. There would be time enough to explain, as and when it was necessary. Right now she was on trial.
‘But it looks perfect for a café. Your guests won’t always want to dine in splendour—they might just want a sandwich or a bowl of soup. I could—’
‘I said you don’t need to worry about it.’
Seeing the flash of hurt cross her face, he raised his hand in a placatory gesture and smiled.
‘Right now I want you to see the parts of the castle that I have renovated—not worry about the ones I haven’t. Let’s keep moving.’
Another length of corridor and they reached a bar. ‘I want the castle to be representative of all periods of history. This room shows the Victorian era,’ he explained.
‘It is absolutely incredible!’ Ruby enthused as she stood and gazed around the room before walking to the actual bar, where she ran a hand along the smooth polished English oak.
Ethan gulped, mesmerised as her slender fingers slid its length. He turned the sound into what even he could hear was a less than plausible cough. ‘Would you like a drink? The bar’s not fully stocked yet, but I do have a selection of drinks.’
‘That would be really helpful.’
‘Helpful...?’
‘Yup. Lots of your guests will sit in here before coming into the restaurant. I want their movement to segue. So if I can just soak up the atmosphere in here a bit that would be helpful.’
‘Fine by me. What would you like to drink?’
‘Tomato juice with tabasco sauce.’
Ethan went behind the bar, ridiculously aware of her gaze on him as he squatted down to grab a bottle, deftly opened the tomato juice, shifted ice and peppered the mix with the fiery sauce.
A blink and she stepped away from the bar. ‘You’re a natural.’ Her voice edged with added husk.
‘I make sure I can stand in for any of my staff,’ he said, placing her drink on the bar, unable to risk so much as the brush of her hand. He gestured towards an area near the Victorian fireplace, with two overstuffed armchairs.
Ruby sat down and looked round the room, blue eyes widening. ‘You have done such a fabulous job here—I can’t really find words to describe it. I know I’ve never been to any of the other Caversham sites, but I did do a lot of online research and...’ Slim shoulders lifted. ‘This seems different. I can’t quite put my finger on it but this feels more...personal. Does that sound daft?’
No, it didn’t. It spoke volumes for her intuitive powers. His vision for the castle was personal. And it was going to stay that way. An explanation too likely to open him up to accolades—the idea set his teeth on the brink of discomfort. Even worse, it might pave the way to a discussion as to his motivations and a visit down memory lane. That was enough to make his soul run cold and he felt his mouth form a grim line.
Ruby twirled a strand of hair that had escaped its confines. ‘I’m not trying to pry, but if you do have a different idea for the castle restaurant then I need to know, so I can come up with the right design.’
Time to say something. ‘I feel proud of what I’ve already done here, and I’m sure we can work together to come up with a concept that works for the castle.’
Another glance around and then she smiled at him, a smile that warmed him despite his best attempts to erect a wall of coldness.
‘You’re right to be proud, Ethan—you have come so far. You said ten years ago you would make it big—but this...it’s gigantically humungous.’
There it was again—the tug back to the past. Yes, he’d vowed to succeed—how else could he show his mother, show the whole world, that he was worth something? That he was not his father.
‘I’m truly honoured to be part of it. So if there is anything I need to know, please share.’
Share. The word was alien. Ethan Caversham knew the best way to walk was alone. Ten years ago Ruby Hampton had slipped under his guard enough that he’d shared his dream of success. And instantly regretted the confidence when it had seemed to make her want more—now here she was again with a request that he share, and once again the promise of warmth in those eyes held allure, a tempt to disclosure.
Not this time—this time he’d break the spell at the outset.
‘I do have an attachment to the castle—I think it’s because it does feel steeped in history. That’s why I’ve gone into such detail. You may want to take note of the stone floors. Also the reason the room is predominantly ruby-red and dark green is that there were limited colours actually available then. And did you know that it was only in the eighteen-forties that wallpaper was first mass-produced?’
Excellent—he’d turned into a walking encyclopaedia on Victorian restoration.
Ruby nodded. ‘You’ve got it exactly right with the birds and animals motif, and the faux marble paint effects are spot-on too. As for the fireplace...it’s magnificent—especially with all the dried flowers.’
Clearly Ruby had decided to humour the boss and join in with the fact-bombardment.
‘I