a worried sigh. ‘I’ve been here, Uncle Dom.’ She was only half listening as she watched one of the horses gallop enthusiastically around the paddock, kicking his heels in the air. A youngster, she really did need to work this morning even if she didn’t manage anything else.
‘Well, I asked that Australian chap to pass on a message if he saw you, and I asked Philippa, who is about the most reliable of your friends.’
Registering his tone, she picked up a pile of three-day eventing entry forms from the nearest chair, dropped them on the table and sat down. On the TV they always told people to sit down when there was bad news coming.
‘Charlotte, we have to talk. I’ve put this off as long as I can, but it can’t wait any longer. I’m coming to see you now, and don’t you dare disappear again.’
‘Amanda is expecting.’
‘Expecting what?’ Lottie only had a fraction of her attention on her Uncle Dominic, partly because the two-year-old horse on the other end of the lunge rope had a way of knowing exactly when you weren’t concentrating, and partly because she had absolutely no idea why Dom was there and suspected she was about to get a telling off for something. And she was following the strategy of pretending he wasn’t there in the hope he’d forget and go away.
She loved Dom, but she didn’t love the disapproving looks or the lectures when she didn’t quite come up to his very high standards. Which was quite often.
‘Charlotte, are you listening?’
‘Of course.’ She glanced his way, and the stern look and folded arms meant he wasn’t going to forget, or go away. The black horse, which someone had imaginatively named Badger due to the broad white stripe down his nose, gave an experimental pull on the other end of the rope.
‘She is expecting a baby.’
‘What?’ She spun around to face him properly, inadvertently flicking the lunge whip as she went so that it caught the youngster on his nicely rounded rump. The horse gave a squeal of what could have been evil intent, or glee, and did the type of fly buck that was more often seen at a rodeo.
Dom watched in silence as Badger followed through by putting his head between his knees and arching his back in an even more impressive one, and his one thought, before the animal charged forward, was that the horse had incredible athletic potential. A loop of rein was dragged through Lottie’s hand, catching the lunge whip on its way, which narrowly missed her head before she fully came to her senses and took a firmer grip, desperately trying to keep her footing in the middle of the circle as the horse tore around at a dizzying pace.
‘Hey up, Dom, what are you doing here?’ Rory arrived just as Dom was trying to decide whether to step in and rescue his only niece before she was accidentally garrotted, or corkscrewed into the ground, or whether he should trust in her ability to slow the horse down. As Tilly the terrier tore into the arena, desperate to join in the fun, dodging hooves and curses, he decided that if he didn’t do something within the next ten seconds man (well woman) or dog was going to die.
But, just as Dominic vaulted over the wall, the horse miraculously slowed to a trot, dropping its head in a show of subservience. Lottie laughed and finally managed to pick up the lunge whip.
‘Wow, did you see that power? He could demolish a cross-country course.’
‘That’s what I bought him for darling.’ Rory sounded satisfied.
‘He nearly demolished you.’ Dom’s tone was dry as he climbed back out of the arena. The master of control, he was never quite sure whether to be in awe of, or despair of, the totally chaotic girl, who somehow carried some of the same genes as him. ‘And I couldn’t see the power the speed he was going.’
‘He’s only a b—’ Lottie was about to say baby, then it hit her. The word that had caused the explosion in the first place. She walked up to the horse, holding it firmly at its head, the other hand patting the strong neck, and stared at Dom. ‘Amanda is, you are, you’re both…’
‘Expecting. Yes.’
‘A baby?’ Just to be sure.
‘Woohoo. Didn’t know you had it in you, Dom. Congratulations!’ Rory gave Dom a manly slap on the back and nearly launched him back over into the arena again. ‘It is yours, I take it?’ Dom arched an eyebrow, stared down his aristocratic nose and refrained from comment.
‘Amanda’s pregnant?’ Lottie wanted to make doubly sure.
‘Isn’t that what I said, Charlotte?’
It was, but she was still trying to get her head around the statement, which was damned tricky considering she saw Dom as: A – too stuffy and pernickety to have a baby (or even sex for that matter) and B – too old. After all he was her uncle.
‘But…’
‘And I need to talk to you about your gran and Tipping House. Charlotte, I do appreciate that you’ve started to take on some of the responsibility, but I’m afraid we really do need to speed the process along.’
‘Speed it along?’ Lottie, who by now had forgotten all about the horse, but got a smart reminder when it gave her hand a sharp nip.
‘It’s your inheritance, and although I know I said I’d carry on helping until you were ready, the ball is now in your court.’ He shrugged, looked apologetic. ‘I’m going to have to support Amanda, which means I need to be in her home, our home, at Folly Lake Manor. And,’ he leaned forward in a way she didn’t like at all, and sighed, ‘unfortunately Mother has been ill, which rather brings things to a head. She needs assurance that you’re in control and she doesn’t need to have any concerns about the estate and everything it entails.’
‘Ill? Gran isn’t ill, she was at the wedding, and –’
‘She hides it very well, but she’s getting too old for all the worry, whatever she says.’ The small frown he couldn’t hide worried Lottie. ‘The doctors say she’s had a small stroke, and the best way to help is for us to take the pressure off.’
‘I will, I will. I can go and help her, visit more, spend time up there, can’t we Rory?’ Lottie had wild, and totally impractical, thoughts about making soup and taking dictation, neither of which she’d ever done in her life, while Rory did manly thing like standing at the fireplace and supplying Elizabeth with perfect G&T’s.
‘It’s not about spending time with her, Charlotte. It’s about money.’
‘But you’ve already told me about the money. I’ve got a plan and we’re seeing the bank manager, and I—’
Dom sighed. ‘What we’ve discussed is just the tip of the iceberg. That estate needs managing, it needs a cash injection—’
‘I know, I’ve thought about how to raise money and—’
He held up a hand to stop her words. ‘A serious amount of money, Charlotte. What we’ve talked about is the substantial sum needed for the essential repairs, that have been left for far too long, but
