Page 113 of Secrets and Seashells at Rainbow Bay
‘I could sense a presence in the room. I’ve felt it before in the Ladies’ Chamber – sort of cold, but not cold in a bad way, if you know what I mean. It was more cool, but calm.’
It’s Tom’s turn to nod this time. ‘And you think this might have been Clara – am I right?’
‘Yes. If this message is what I think it is, then she would be the only one who could know that.’
‘That the real heir to Chesterford is here at the castle?’
‘Yes.’
‘But what if that’s you?’ Tom says, suggesting something I hadn’t thought of. ‘Or Charlie? Perhaps the message was simply clarifying that the real heir is one of you two?’
‘Perhaps. But I don’t think it means that. Why not just write that I’m the heir or that Charlie is? Why the cryptic message?’
‘You’re asking me why a supposed ghost isn’t writing more clearly in a pile of salt?’ Tom says, grinning now. ‘Now thatisa tricky one . . . ’
I smile too. ‘I guess it doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?’
‘You said it! But listen,’ Tom says, taking my hand over the table, ‘I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. Even if this heir is at the castle, they don’t know anything about it, do they? You’ve got to be the best thing to happen at Chesterford in years, Amelia. That’s all I hear people saying around here. Why jeopardise yours and Charlie’s security, and possibly your future happiness, by trying to uncover another heir? And what if this diary is wrong? You’ve only got the word of Clara to go on. What if that diary was made up, or she made a mistake – have you thought of that?’
‘Of course I have. I’ve turned all this over in my head time and time again since I found out. But there’re just too many things that add up away from the diary for it to be fabrication. And why would Clara make it up? It makes no sense for her to.’
‘Why do people do a lot of things?’ Tom says. ‘Life often makes no sense to me. If you’d told me a few months ago that I’d be living in a castle, believing in ghosts and falling head over heels in love with a smart, funny, beautiful woman, I’d never have believed you – especially the last part.’
I smile shyly at Tom and squeeze his hand. He winks at me in return.
‘Well, you and Benji both seem to think it’s a bad idea for me to try to find this other heir, but now I know they might be here at the castle, I just have to do it. I couldn’t continue to live here with that on my conscience, knowing I hadn’t at least tried.’
‘And your honour is just one of the things I adore about you. Your honour, your principles, your beautiful smile, your sexy, curvaceous body – need I go on?’
‘I think you’d better quit while you’re ahead,’ I tell him, smiling on the outside, but on my inside I can feel nothing but a warm glow spreading right through me. It’s been a long time since anyone said anything remotely like this to me. And possibly never in quite the same ardent way that Tom is.
‘So what are you going to do?’ Tom asks.
‘About your enthusiastic declarations of love?’
Tom grins. ‘We could go down that path if you like?’ He lifts his eyebrows suggestively. ‘However, I think you need to get a few things straight in your mind first – am I right?’
I nod. ‘Thank you for understanding,’ I tell him. ‘I really need to get all this other stuff sorted out before I can commit to anything else right now. But,’ I add, holding on to his hand all the tighter, ‘weare something that I’d like to give quite a lot of my time to in the future, if you’re happy to wait a little while?’
‘I’ll wait as long as I need to,’ Tom says, leaning his tall frame across the table to kiss me. ‘There’s just one thing, though,’ he says just before he does.
‘What’s that?’ I whisper, very aware that Tom’s lips are only a tantalising distance away.
‘Do you like cold apple crumble?’ he asks, glancing to the end of the table where the tray of dessert still waits.
‘Love it,’ I whisper. ‘But, I lovethiseven more.’ And I lean across the last little gap between us, leaving Tom in no doubt which of the two I prefer.
The next morning I find myself with a smile on my face as I walk down the hill towards Dorothy and Arthur’s cottage.
Considering everything that’s going on right now, I probably shouldn’t be smiling quite so much. But I can’t help it; every time I think about Tom and what happened last night, I find myself smiling.
And that, I tell myself as I knock on the cottage door, can only ever be a good thing.
‘Hello, Arthur,’ I say, bracing myself as he opens the door to me. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Much better, miss, thank you,’ Arthur says in his slightly gruff way. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been at work the last couple of days. Dorothy is insisting I rest.’
‘And rightly so,’ I tell him. ‘Your health must come first.’
