Page 56 of Beyond Her Manner
“Okay, I won’t make you break a trust,” Caroline said quietly as she followed behind. “I’ll assume — from looking at her — that her uptight cute butt is overcompensating for something, and she might not be as straight as she makes out.”
Viola glanced at Gillian’s perfect backside across the hall, her gaze lingering longer than intended. She quickly averted her eyes, feeling a flush of heat in her cheeks again.
“Why didn’t you mention you were invited?” Gillian whispered to Bridget as they entered the great hall.
“Why didn’t you?”
“In case you hadn’t been.”
“Likewise,” Bridget countered.
Gillian pursed her lips. The likelihood of a scenario where Bridget was invited and she not was highly improbable.
A tightness gripped her throat as she took in her surroundings. She’d only made it as far as the kitchen when she stopped for coffee with Viola and hadn’t been into the great hall itself since that last day. It felt like an eternity ago.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course,” Gillian replied, her tone sharper than intended. Catching the look of disbelief on Bridget’s face, she softened and admitted, “Well, maybe it is a little unsettling to be back.”
“It would be,” Bridget said, placing a comforting hand on her arm.
Gillian turned, looking for her host, only to see her enter the hall with Caroline. Viola was breathtaking. The sight of her at the door overwhelmed Gillian, leaving her unsteady on her feet. Now, she watched as Viola walked towards her, the dark-greenfabric of her dress shimmering under the chandelier. It was magnificent; the colour accentuated her rich hair, and the low V-neck drew Gillian’s eye down to her cleavage, leaving her feeling guilty for peeking.
The sound of phone alerts pinged, pulling Gillian’s attention away. Her hand shot into her bag as quickly as Bridget’s went into hers to retrieve their phones.
“I do apologise,” Gillian directed at Viola, knowing how impolite it was to be checking her phone. “It’s the flower show tomorrow, and a minor leak in the roof of the village hall was brought to our attention this morning.”
Bridget looked to Gillian, having read the message. “Oh, Gillian, what do we do?”
“How bad is it?” Viola asked, approaching Gillian with concern.
“It appears that the minor leak has become a major leak. It was rotten, and we now have a hole in the roof.”
“Will we have to cancel the show?” Bridget asked.
“I don’t know. The weather looks awful again tomorrow, so the village green isn’t an option. We may have to.”
Gillian looked to Viola. She didn’t want to ask, but with months of hard work put in by the villagers, she knew she must.
“Look, why don’t you hold the flower show here?” Viola said with a shrug. “I won’t be around tomorrow anyway as I’m flying Caroline back to London. Mrs Johnson can let you in early; she’ll be clearing up from tonight.”
Gillian pressed her hand to her stomach at the offer only to realise it may not have been genuine. Viola may have sensed she was about to ask and decided to get ahead of her. Either way, she couldn’t say no. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Viola said, placing a hand on Gillian’s arm. “Now let’s have some champagne. You both look like you could use a glass… or two.”
“Thank you,” Gillian mouthed, taking a glass from Viola.
The soft smile she received in return nearly stole her breath. She bit back her own grin, taking a small sip of champagne to cover it.Feeling strangely light-headed already, she knew she would need to limit her alcohol intake this evening if she was going to be in any fit state for her early start.
“We should go through to the dining room,” Viola said, gesturing to a door off the great hall. “I was informed that dinner will be served promptly at seven thirty.”
Gillian smiled with fondness, remembering Mrs Johnson’s strict schedules.
Viola directed them to their seats, placing Gillian beside herself.
Although the usual small talk commenced over dinner, Gillian found it difficult to focus on, or engage, in it. Memories from the afternoon she had ridden with Viola resurfaced, as they had done many times over the last few days. With the woman sitting next to her, it was difficult to ignore them and push them away this time. The soft sound of laughter from Viola at a joke Caroline had told reminded Gillian of her enjoyment as they rode across the fields. Her laughter had been so genuine, so infectious.
Gillian recalled pressing into her back as she held the reins, supporting herself with her legs, grounding Viola to Dudley as his powerful hooves propelled them through the fields of Kingsford. The sensation of Viola’s body against hers as it tensed and relaxed during their ride lingered in her mind, as did her scent.
