so bloody boring. But then they’d actually become kind of buddies when she’d shown her the ropes at Rory’s yard. And now it turned out even she knew the Australian sex god. Although that figured; Pip knew everybody and everything. And had tried them out between the sheets probably – the ‘everybody’ not the ‘everything’.
Great, Tab frowned, somebody interesting turns up and she was the only one who hadn’t slept with him. Which was the story of her life at the moment. One day they’d stop treating her as Tom’s kid and realise she actually wanted to ride more than bloody horses.
‘Todd.’ Rory’s voice broke into her thoughts, and from the sound of it he didn’t actually know him, it was more a statement of intent, possibly murderous, which could make things interesting but could completely screw up her plans. On no account was Rory going to be allowed to kill him, or hound him out of Tippermere. Not yet, please God! Tab, who had resolutely refused to even pretend to pray since the day she’d been born, decided that if this worked out she would make up for it.
‘Watcha mate.’ Todd, oblivious to the danger, grinned in Rory’s direction and was obviously impressed with the mark he’d left on his audience. He winked at Pip. ‘Long time no see. Didn’t recognise you with your clothes on.’
‘Don’t you “watcha mate” me,’ Rory was probably the only one who missed the murmur that was spreading through the crowd. ‘You’re the waste of space that dumped Lottie on that Spanish beach, aren’t you? Well?’
Lottie squirmed as the heat rushed into her face.
‘Well, to be fair, I wouldn’t exactly say “dumped”, mate.’ Some of the bravado left his voice as he registered the look on Rory’s face. ‘It was just one of those things.’
‘I’ll show you what’s fair, come here, you Aussie git.’
As Rory lunged, Todd decided not to come or hang about. He made a dash for it, straight towards the by-now bored Merlin, who had a half-eaten red gladioli hanging from his mouth. Making a split-second decision that he was sure he’d regret later, Todd vaulted on to the startled horses back before he, or Tab, had time to object.
Rory glanced around, his face set, spotted the quad bike at the side of the marquee and made a dash for it.
‘Jeez, fella, what is your problem?’ Not waiting for an answer, Todd dug his heels in and grabbed a handful of mane as Merlin plunged forwards. The horse rocketed back across the lawn, happily obliging his rider, with Rory in hot pursuit, waving a fist and yelling what everybody took to be obscenities.
‘Think they’ll be back?’ Pip grinned, this was turning out to be far more entertaining than she could have possibly imagined. And bringing a photographer along with her had definitely been a worthwhile investment. She could picture the newspaper headlines now.
Lottie Brinkley shut her eyes and a new image of Todd swam into her vision. Todd the last time she’d seen him – his bronzed body naked apart from a pair of swimming trunks, his impressive six-pack nicely oiled and the promise of a good night in shining from his eyes.
Until the dream had been demolished by a bevy of Spanish policeman all dressed in black, who’d surrounded them and waved a warrant.
Apart from the humiliation of having to watch her lover being marched across the sand away from her, what had really bothered Lottie on the beach that day was that she hadn’t even been wearing a decent bikini.
It was one thing Gran bringing her up with the belief that one should always wear decent knickers, just in case one was run over, but whoever warned you that your beachwear should be up to the scrutiny of a half a dozen very sexy members of the Spanish Mossos?
If it hadn’t been for her new best buddy, Pip, who had helped her cram everything into her rucksack, booked emergency plane tickets and escorted her all the way back to Tippermere, Lottie wasn’t sure what would have happened next in her life.
Meeting journalist Pip Keelan in Barcelona had been a godsend. She was all the things Lottie wasn’t – organised and logical in everything, including her love life. The fact that she’d then actually decided to hang around and adopt Lottie’s home village as her own, and then proceeded to bring her own brand of fun and mayhem to Tippermere life was a source of constant amazement.
It seemed that for Pip country life was the perfect antidote to the city living that had started to turn stale, and the fit men were a bonus. And the fact that she was semi shacked-up with the fittest farrier for miles appeared to suit her fine.
‘He is so, so fit. How come you know so many hot men, Lot’s?’ Tabatha’s wistful tone brought Lottie back to the present and she glanced at the teenager, who was gazing longingly after her rapidly disappearing horse and the careering quad bike. Then her gaze fixed on Rory, who was alternating between waving his fist and frantically grabbing at the handlebars as he rocketed off course.
‘I’m not sure this lawn will ever be the same again.’ Amanda Stanthorpe, owner of all she surveyed, joined them, but seemed more preoccupied with what had been an immaculate expanse of green, than the cause of the destruction.
Agreeing to host the wedding at Folly Lake Manor had seemed the neighbourly thing to do, even if she did like everything neat and tidy. But Amanda did truly love the people she’d met in Tippermere and Kitterly Heath, and this had seemed the perfect way to thank them for everything they’d done for her.
After the death of her billionaire husband, Marcus, they had made her feel part of the community and, in fact, had made her feel worth something again. From the loveable Lottie and daredevil Rory to the scheming Elizabeth. From the unprincipled Pip and the brooding Mick, to the gruff Billy and charming Tiggy, and from the perfectly handsome Tom to his outwardly difficult, but inwardly, sweet daughter, Tab, they were all like the family she wished she’d had.
Even the glamorous, but warm-hearted and generous Sam and her charming footballer husband had supported her.
And, of course, there was dear, reserved and very proper Dominic. Her husband. She loved them all, but she loved him most of all.
And there was the crux of the matter, the main reason for hosting the wedding. It was a generous gesture of goodwill from Dominic, her husband, towards Billy Brinkley, the groom. Mending fences, building bridges.
Dominic and Billy had been childhood friends, but affection had turned to hatred after Alexandra, Lottie’s mother, had died in a tragic accident. Both men had outwardly blamed each other, but inwardly carried a burden of guilt for something that neither was actually responsible for. And it had taken Lottie and her grandmother, Lady Elizabeth, to unravel the puzzle and make them see sense. Make them see that neither was to blame for the death of Alexa – Dominic’s sister, Billy’s wife, Lottie’s mother. Force them to acknowledge that hate and disapproval wouldn’t bring her back.
Amanda sighed as all of a sudden the city girl in her, who she’d hoped had been quashed down, rose up in anguish. She loved Lottie, truly adored her, but the girl seemed doomed to a life of chaos and untidy disorder. And cavorting on horses was just not what she’d expected at this wedding, well at any wedding. Much as she’d tried to involve herself in equestrian life and appreciate the beauty of the massive animals, surely horses belonged in fields?
‘Are
