Page 24 of Enticement
“Kit!” she bellowed. “Oh. My. God! Are we talking about Christopher Skye, Ross’s mate from way back? You’ve got Christopher Skye staying with you. You bitch!”
Shocked by the outburst, which had even raised the heads of some of the tearoom’s perpetual grazers, Evie pushed Lillianna off the counter, and ushered her towards the store closet. She pushed her inside and closed the door on them.
“Keep it down, will you, or I’ll be dealing with complaints for the next fortnight. You know the tearoom regulars bring in most of the revenue for the house.”
“Yeah, suppose.”
Melton Manor, the Big House, as the locals liked to call it, was a crumbling Jacobean pile, set in ninety acres of gardens and grazing land. Too small to market itself as a conference venue, it survived primarily on guided tours, goodwill and the occasional private party. The Tearoom, more formally know as The Satyr’s Horn, due to a curious bronze statue set outside, was housed in the Victorian extensions that had once been an icehouse and launderette.
“But holy shit, Evie! Prince Lucifer himself comes strutting home and you don’t even mention it to me. Bugger this mess.” She pulled at the coils of frizzy auburn hair in dismay. “I’m going black again and digging out the hair straighteners. Don’t you think couples always look best when they’re nicely matched?”
Far from it. Evie found the whole concept of his and hers clothing, hair-dos and even bath towels completely revolting. However, she let the remark go, in the wake of her friend’s hyperbolic reaction to Kit’s name. “You know him?” she ventured, backing into the corner that housed the locally made jars of pickles, in order to avoid the worst of any further spitting explosions.
“Know him! I spent every summer between the ages of eight and eighteen chasing him. ’Course, I bloody know him. And he’s not a twelve, he’s a fifteen, unless he’s gone bald or something.”
Evie shook her head.
“Only stopped chasing him ’cause he absconded after all that trouble with Sammie Dean.”
“Trouble?” Her second attempt at nonchalance drew a quizzical look from Lillianna, who twirled an auburn ringlet around her finger and popped it into her mouth to suck.
“Hasn’t Ross told you about it?” she eventually replied, releasing the now wet strand of hair. “I’d have thought he would. I guess you’re cool with it, which in itself is cool. I don’t know if I would be. I mean there’s sexy bad, and there’s bad bad, and none of us ever quite worked out what side of the fence Mr. Skye is truly on.”
Caught between the desire to press Lillianna for every minute detail of what she knew and yet somehow not reveal her apparent ignorance on a seemingly important topic, Evie wallowed for a moment in confused silence.
Bad boy? Yes, she agreed that Kit certainly deserved that description, but to suggest his badness actually went as far as making him downright evil, seemed unjustified to say the least. What the hell had he done? Dealt drugs on the corner, nicked a car, maybe spray painted a few walls? Hardly clever stuff, but not exactly things to make him legendary, even in a pokey village like Kirkley. In her home town of Leeds, Kit’s antics wouldn’t have raised more than an eyebrow. She was just about to carefully prod Lillianna into spilling a few more details, when the service bell on the tearoom counter rang.
“I have to get that.”
“I bet it’s just one of the old biddies demanding another free cupper. They don’t like to think you’re idling.”
“Well, it is as many refills as you like for two quid,” Evie muttered. Her eyebrows pulled low into a frown as she emerged from the cupboard. The waiting customer, rather surprisingly, didn’t have grey hair. Rather, he had on a leather jacket, with a Maltese cross and pattern of roses painted across the back. “Kit.” Her half-strangled gasp caused him to turn and Lillianna to whip out of the cupboard, still holding the cigarette she’d obviously just been about to take a stealthy puff upon. Evie scowled and she immediately stubbed it out, grinning sheepishly at the numerous no smoking signs. Two seconds later she was the other side of the counter, right in Kit’s face.
“You’re back.” She jabbed him in the chest with her cigarette butt. “You’ve a nerve. Has Tony seen you yet?”
“Tony who?”
It was only as Kit back stepped that Evie noticed he had a dressing on the right side of his forehead. Concerned, she leapt forward, shoving Lillianna out of the way. “What happened? I’ve been saying to Ross all week that you shouldn’t be working alone in that house. It’s dangerous, and lo’ and behold you’ve had an accident.”
Kit despite the odd wary glance at Lillianna, smiled. “I’ll live, Evie. It’s just a scratch. Though, it’s nice to know you care.” He pouted slightly, an expression that prompted a mew of appreciation from Lillianna.
“Of course I care.” She raised her hand to his brow, in order to sweep back his hair to better see the wound. “What happened? Have you been up to the hospital?”
He gave a quick shake of his head. “It’s nothing, really.”
About to say more, Evie noticed that his gaze kept flicking back and forth between herself and Lillianna. Curious, she turned to her friend, thinking introductions were probably out of place since they clearly knew one another. Lilli was gaping at them as if she’d just discovered the crown jewels in her coalhouse.
“What? What!”
“Are you two shagging?” Lilli’s words burst from her in a near incomprehensible gush.
“No.”
“Does Ross know?”
“We’re not,” said Kit, although there was a distinctly implied “yet” in his tone.
“Oh my god!” Lillianna continued unabashed, clearly not persuaded by their denials. “I bet he joins in. God, that’s it, isn’t it? You’re all screwing each other. Aw!” She clapped her hands, unfortunately snapping the forgotten cigarette in two, so it added to the small pile of litter already accumulated on the floor. “Just wait ’til I tell Molly about this. She’s gonna freak.” Without another remark, not even a goodbye, she snatched her handbag from the counter and zoomed out of the door, flicking the remainder of her cigarette butt at George the Satyr.
