Page 46 of Pride
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EMMA
We pulled off the road and drove through huge, wrought-iron gates, that opened automatically for us, onto a long, winding driveaway. All the while, I was subtly watching Alex, trying to assess his body language as I quizzed him about Sirius Bell. He didn’t give much away. And his answers were what you’d expect any sane, upstanding member of the community to say after a heinous crime had been committed.
In all honesty, I didn’t think Alex was capable of assisting in something of that magnitude of hideousness. But at the same time, I couldn’t shake the little voice in my head, reminding me that he had the largest collection of S.K.A.M. art in the country. That perhaps he knew who he was. And maybe, he was friendlier with him than he’d let on.
I stared out of the window as we drove through sprawling fields as far as the eye could see. In the distance, the sky was grey and full of rain clouds, but the view was vibrant and green, with lush grass and trees. The driveway we travelled down was lined with short, neat hedges and Victorian lampposts that I knew would look stunning when they were lit up in the evening.
I watched the scenery roll past the window, and then I held in a gasp as the house came into view. Sunford Manor was a hugestately home, a mansion that would give Buckingham Palace a run for its money. There were so many windows I felt sorry for the window cleaner having to clean them all, and I found myself wondering who else lived here. Surely Alex didn’t rattle around inside this mansion alone? He’d have staff, I knew that, but it’d take a whole army to keep an estate like this running. I struggled to stay on top of my housework, and I lived in a tiny, terraced house.
I tried to keep my nerves in check as Alex drove the car around the circular driveway to park by the steps that led to the front doors. A man had already opened the doors to the house and was heading to the steps to walk down and meet us.
“Remind me why I’m here again?” I asked, trying not to panic, as the man approached us, and Alex waved him over to my side of the car.
“You humoured me and agreed to come here,” Alex announced chirpily. “And we had an appointment. I hate to upset my schedule. And like I said in my text, I think I can help you.” He leaned closer to me, and added, “Try not to overthink it, Emma. We can have a coffee and chat. No pressure. Maybe see the art I told you about. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”
If he could peer into my brain, he’d see that comfort was the last thing on my mind. I was on edge. My brain was darting from one wild theory to another, and my world was on a fast-track to destruction. There was a crazy killer stalking me, and I was about two weeks away from being a desolate, homeless, down and out.
I gave a fake smile in response, a smile that didn’t reach my eyes as I stepped out of the car, thanking the man for holding my door open.
“I’d prefer a tea to coffee,” I replied, as I walked around the car to join Alex on the steps of his manor. “And I’m intrigued by your art collection.”
And sickened by the man who created it.
But I kept that thought to myself.
“I’m pleased you said that. I’ve been dying to show you around.”
Alex instructed the man, who was called Thomas, to park his car in the garage for him, and told him he wouldn’t need it again today. I didn’t say anything. I guessed he thought I’d book an Uber to get home.
We climbed the marble steps towards the front doors of the manor, and as we walked inside, I saw a middle-aged woman standing beside a beautiful table with a stunning floral arrangement of lilies on it in the middle of the foyer.
“May I take your coat?” she asked, stepping forward as I tried to keep my jaw off the floor at the grandeur of this place.
There was a sweeping staircase in the foyer with luxurious cream carpet and brass rails leading to the second floor. I couldn’t help but lift my head to look up at the chandelier that sparkled above us, as Alex answered, “Thank you, Alma. And I’d appreciate it if you could hold all my calls while Miss Belmont is here. We don’t want to be disturbed.”
“Of course, Sir.” She bowed and smiled at Alex, and he came to stand behind me and slipped his jacket off my shoulders. I’d completely forgotten I was still wearing it.
“Could you put Miss Belmont’s own coat in the dryer, ready for later?” he asked.
I went to protest, but I didn’t. It’d be nice to get my worthless, non-waterproof raincoat dry before I left.
Instead, I smiled politely and said, “Thank you.” As I let him slip that off my shoulders too, and hand it to his housemaid.
“And a pot of tea when you have time, to be served in my office,” Alex added as she nodded and backed away.
“Of course,” she replied.
“Let me get you a sweater, you’re still shivering,” Alex said, and I glanced down at my arms to see goosebumps on my skin that I hadn’t noticed.
He went to walk away, but I called out, “No, don’t worry. I’m fine. It’s just the breeze from the open door.” I turned to see the door in question was now closed. There was no breeze. “I’ll be okay. Honestly.” I turned to face him, and to move the subject on, I added, “Why don’t you show me your paintings? I’d love to see your collection.”
He grinned back at me, and the way he smiled made my stomach swirl with nerves, like they had the first time we’d met.
But then I remembered who’d made the artwork he wanted me to see. The artwork he collected so fanatically, and I felt sick again.
Did I really want to see the work of a man who was making my life hell, even though Alex was going to be the one showing them to me?
