Page 66 of The Love Letter
On Friday afternoon, Zoe arrived back at the hotel from the shoot and ran up to her room to collect her holdall. Heart banging against her chest, she delivered her keys to reception.
‘Your driver’s waiting in the bar for you, Miss Harrison.’
‘Thanks.’ Zoe walked through to the main body of the pub full of locals. Before her eyes had time to scan the room, a man was by her side.
‘Miss Harrison?’
‘Yes.’ She had to crane her neck upwards to look at him. He was tall, well built, with sandy hair and very blue eyes. He looked completely out of place in his immaculate grey suit, shirt and tie. ‘Hello.’
‘Can I take your bag?’ His face crinkled into a warm smile.
‘Thank you.’
Zoe followed him outside to the car park, where a black Jaguar with dark tinted windows was waiting. He opened one of the back doors.
‘There you are. Climb in.’
Zoe did so. He stowed her bag in the boot, then got in behind the wheel.
‘Were you waiting long?’ she asked.
‘No, only about twenty minutes.’ He started the engine and reversed out of the car park.
She settled back onto the soft fawn-coloured leather as the Jaguar purred along the country roads.
‘How far is it?’
‘Half an hour or so, Miss Harrison,’ the chauffeur replied.
Zoe felt suddenly uncomfortable, embarrassed in front of this polite, handsome man. He must know he was driving her to an assignation with his employer. She couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d done this kind of thing for Art before.
‘Have you been working for, er, Prince Arthur for long?’ she asked into the silence.
‘No, this is a new duty for me. You’ll have to give me marks out of ten.’ She caught his smile in the rear-view mirror.
‘Oh no, I couldn’t . . . I mean, this is my first time too . . . er . . . I mean, going to Sandringham.’
‘Well then, we’re both beginners in the royal enclave.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m not even sure whether I should be speaking to you. I suppose I’m lucky they let me keep my tongue and my nu— Yes, well, you know what I mean.’
Zoe giggled as the back of his neck turned slightly pink. ‘I won’t tell if you won’t,’ she added, feeling much more comfortable.
Soon, her chauffeur picked up a mobile and dialled a number. ‘Arriving at York Cottage in five with HRH’s package.’ He signalled left and drove through a pair of heavy wrought-iron gates. Zoe looked back as they closed silently behind the car.
‘Almost there,’ he said as he drove along a wide, smooth road. Swathes of late-afternoon mist covered the open parkland, making it impossible to see much. The car turned right and down a narrow lane lined with bushes on either side, then came to a stop.
‘Here we are, Miss Harrison.’ The chauffeur stepped out of the car and opened the door for her.
Zoe barely had time to take in the elegant Victorian building nestling amongst tall trees before Art emerged from the front door. ‘Zoe! How lovely to see you.’ He kissed her warmly but slightly formally on both cheeks.
‘Shall I take Miss Harrison’s luggage inside?’ the chauffeur asked.
‘No, I’ll take it, thank you,’ said Art.
The chauffeur watched as the Prince put a protective arm around Zoe Harrison’s shoulders and led her inside. He’d rather been expecting an arrogant, vain celebrity with delusions of grandeur. What he’d found instead was a very beautiful, sweet and nervous young woman. He walked back to the car, climbed inside then dialled a number.
