Page 27 of The Uprising
‘Perfect. Meet me in the kitchen at noon. Fancy scrambled eggs on toast?’
Cara leaned in to kiss George. ‘My stomach’s already growling at the thought. Give my love to Kate. I hope she’s enjoying some time out of her hectic schedule at Casa Cavendish and making the most of the Spanish sunshine.’
Cara entered the kitchen and saw George putting the last touches to brunch. She laid the table, and they sat down to eat.
‘This is delicious,’ said Cara, as she chewed slowly and savoured the scrambled eggs while George wolfed his down as though he hadn’t eaten for days.
‘I love cooking for you,’ he said.
They laughed and chatted in between mouthfuls.
‘Did you speak to Kate?’
‘Yes—we had a lovely catch up.’
‘How’s she doing? Did she know anything about what happened to Willow Manor back in the day?’
‘She’s doing well, and as we suspected, she knew rather a lot. It turns out that one of our ancestors was a bit of a black sheep, and unfortunately he’s another one whose name I bear.’
‘I knew there had to be a bad egg in the George Cavendish bloodline. You must have made a wrong move somewhere through the centuries.’
‘Is almost being executed by order of King Henry VIII, not enough for you, you blood thirsty wench?’
‘That was gorgeous,’ Cara said, finishing her last piece of buttered wholemeal toast. ‘Oh yes, well there is that. But come on, don’t keep me in suspense, what on earth did the scoundrel, George, get up to?’
‘Well by the sounds of it, he really was a bit of a cad, but I’ll fill you in on him later. We’ve got something far more important to do.’
‘Oh—and what might that be?’ Cara wiped her hands on a napkin and pushed her plate to one side.
‘We’re going to reacquire Willow Manor,’ said George, spreading a thick layer of strawberry jam onto another piece of toast.
‘Goodness, you move fast. How the heck are we going to do that?’
‘I’ve got an idea; rather an ingenious one, even if I do say so myself. Come on, finish your coffee; we’re going on a reconnaissance mission. There’s something I want to show you.’
Cara looked at George. ‘Oh-oh...you’re deadly serious, aren’t you?’
‘Willow Manor is coming back into the Cavendish family if we can pull this off.’
Cara loved adventures with George, and even more so when they were in the right place in the right timeline.’
She swigged the last of her coffee, grabbed her jacket from the hook in the hallway and they headed out the door.
‘Yours or mine?’ he said.
‘Yours, it’s a Porsche day, and anyway you know I love it when you chauffeur me about.’
‘That’s the trouble with marrying a rich girl,’ he said.
‘More like Cinderella.’
Cara hadn’t forgotten her humble beginnings; her father was one of the wealthiest businessmen in York, but before he visited the children’s home and changed her life by adopting her, she had been a nervous, lonely little girl. She was forever grateful and tried never to take her immense good fortune for granted. Occasionally, even all these years later, she dreamt she was alone in her single bed in the dormitory, and awoke in the night, heart racing, feeling scared and unsafe.
‘Where are we off to?’ she asked.
‘Patience is a virtue, my darling. It’s a surprise; you’ll see soon enough.’
‘Perhaps I should have driven, after all,’ she said, teasing, as she settled into the soft leather seat of George’s classic sports car, and they zoomed off down the narrow lane. She gazed at his profile, and a surge of love consumed her. ‘I love you, I’m so glad we’ve got over our disagreement,’ she said.
