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A Roll in the Hay Page 2
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“Oh no,” Susannah cut in. “Absolutely not. I didn’t think you had the capacity for the Midsummer Estate anyway, but employing grown adults who can’t even drive? What good will she be to me at 4a.m. in the snow when one of my horses has colic?”
“Um, actually I can drive perfectly well,” Tess argued, placing the coffees on the table so her hands could settle on her hips. “Although I’m not sure a stable owner who can’t handle a bout of colic alone is going to be much judge of a vet’s skill.”
Oops. Temper, temper. Tess had never been good with people putting her down. Anything in the region of assuming she was “less than” had historically not been great either. This woman, this Susannah, was a waving red rag, and Tess was absolutely the antagonised bull.
“I’m sure what Tess meant to say, Lady Karlson—” Adam began, but he seemed a little shellshocked.
“I knew this was a waste of my time. First, she makes me late for my previous meeting and now she insults my intelligence. I’m well aware of how to treat colic in my horses, but thanks for that lovely condescension. I think I’ll stick to one of the big chains. An estate the size of mine needs professionals at the top of their game. Clearly this isn’t where I’ll find them.”
With that, she swept out in a cloud of expensive perfume and gently bouncing curls.
Tess stared after her, mouth falling open. Seriously, how did women get their hair to do that? Tess had tried everything short of a perm, and still her hair lay straight and a little limp.
“Okay,” Tess said, turning back to her friends. “I have no idea how that just spiralled, but I promise you, I am going to bring in new business. We don’t need to be working for someone who treats us like dirt, do we?”
Adam and Margo looked at each other with that silent couple talk that concluded with a head tilt and a raised eyebrow.
“It’s fine,” Margo assured them both. “It was a long shot anyway; you heard her. Maybe we’re not big enough for her new stud farm and whatever else she’s got going on up there.”
“Stud farm?” Tess groaned inwardly. The chance of working with horses had been the biggest draw about coming back to the country. That was what got her into being a vet in the first place. “I’m sorry, guys.”
“Listen, we didn’t have her on the books when we made our plans, so things are no different,” Adam said. “I’ve got some neutered tomcats to wake up gently, but what do you ladies say to takeaway tonight? The house is just next door, Tess, if you want to get settled in?”
She smiled and accepted the key that Margo had thoughtfully put on a University of Glasgow keyring. Her own place, just down the road and tucked in behind the pub, wouldn’t be ready for a couple of days. Tess had looked at it a few minutes ago.
“Come on, I’ll show you and Waffles to the guest room,” Margo said. “Then I’ve got a call out to check on some pigs. You can tag along, if you like, or just get unpacked.”
They linked arms for the walk across to the house and, for the first time in an hour, Tess breathed all the way out. It was still going to be good, she decided. This was going to be the right move for her.
Or else.
Chapter 2
Susannah all but abandoned her Land Rover on the drive. Up until last year she’d always parked with consummate care, partly out of consideration for her late husband, who shared the driveway, and partly because of his relentless good-natured mockery of her driving skills. She stormed through the grand front doors, irked by the heft of them as they groaned their way open, but it was quicker than walking all the way around to the back. Bloody tedious, really.
The place felt too damn empty, a museum with just one living exhibit.
Spotting dust on the marble bust that dominated one corner of the room—some military-minded ancestor or other—Susannah remembered that she still had to recruit a new housekeeper. In truth, the staff had been trickling away as soon after the funeral as they could get away with, and months later, Midsummer was a stately home down to a skeleton staff. One or two quitting would have been understandable, but losing so many suggested either carelessness or a deep loyalty to her husband that didn’t extend to her own management. Reflecting on that for too long didn’t exactly make Susannah feel fantastic about herself.
“There you are!” Finn came hurtling towards her across the entrance hall like a security guard who had just noticed Susannah shoplifting lipstick. “I’ve had nothing but calls for you today.”
“I’m sure you coped, and besides, I had business in the village.”
“Of course I did, but what’s the point in being the best executive assistant ever if you can’t complain about how hard it is to be brilliant?” Looking as fashionable as ever in a dark grey shirt and skinny black tie paired perfectly with tapered trousers and low heels, Finn offered a cheeky grin.
Susannah had long since given up on trying to keep up with her PA, style-wise, just accepting the gentle criticism that was sometimes levelled at her outfits.
“Anything that can’t be ignored in favour of a late lunch?” Susannah asked.
“Nope.”
“Correct answer. Honestly, I’ve just wasted part of my day getting stuck behind some incompetent on the access road who made me late for saying goodbye to Kenny on his last day. It’s bad enough I’ve lost him running my stables after ten years, but now he’ll think I don’t care one jot. Then it turns out this imbecile, who can barely find third gear, is after our vet business. I think not.”
“Oh, the new one? Tilly, Tammy, something like that. Margo was talking to my source about her in the café last week.”
Finn knew absolutely everyone in the village, but in keeping an air of drama about most things, Joan Barnes, café owner, became a source for the purposes of telling the story.
“Tess, actually.” Susannah frowned. She had trouble remembering the names of some of her relatives most days. Why had Tess-the-terrible-driver made such an impact? Maybe it was the dog. Susannah had always had a soft spot for big, dopey Labs. “Come on, keep me company while I raid the fridge for some lunch. We really need to step up the search for a new personal chef. I’m living on what I can mine from the deli counter and whatever I can persuade Joan to stock me up with.”
Having never really learned to cook beyond a burnt omelette, Susannah was missing access to a chef most of all. Even though Francine had refused to live in or work full-time and insisted on only being called Chef at all times, she had been a damn fine cook.
Luckily there was a platter of charcuterie and a goat’s cheese salad from Joan’s last delivery. There was plenty for Finn, too, so Susannah retrieved a bottle of white from the wine fridge and poured a glass for both of them.
“I assume,” Susannah said, picking at some Serrano ham with her fork, “that at least half of those calls were from my dear sister-in-law?”
Finn nodded, rolling their eyes at the same time behind dark thick-rimmed glasses. “Her snivelling assistant wanted to remind you that she had sent her lawyer’s letter, which I already told him you received. Then, apparently, Robin wanted to visit, even though I said you had no free time this week. And then she phoned herself ‘by accident’, but I think it was mostly just to irritate me. Actually I know it was, because she took the opportunity to misgender me at least three times. It’s bad enough she can’t use ‘they’ when referring to me, but the way she calls me ‘girl’ all the time like she’s winning some kind of point…”
“Christ, I’m sorry.” Susannah set her cutlery down in disgust. And maybe a little to avoid throwing anything. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that level of ignorance. Not just because she has it in for me.”
“Oh, to hell with Robin. It’d hurt more, all her snotty digs about both of us, if I cared about her in the least. Luckily for us, I don’t. I’ve counted all my damns, and I don’t have a single one left to spare for her.”
“I wish I could be above getting irritated by her,” Susannah admitted with a sigh, picking out a slice of salami. “You’d think at some point she’d realised her brother died and actually grieve for him instead of chasing his money.”
“Chasing the money he left you,” Finn corrected, since they both knew nothing else about why the will was being contested. “And trying to get control of your house and land.”
“Yes. That. I know we didn’t have a conventional marriage, exactly, but we did care for each other. Most importantly, we both poured our hearts and souls into preventing this place from turning into a draughty old mausoleum. Robin wouldn’t be so interested if she knew how much bloody work it had taken, and how much of Jimmy’s money we spent.”
“She’d have a good go at spending the rest, though.”
“Yes, she would. Meanwhile I have a massive estate to run, and most of the staff who left when Jimmy died haven’t been replaced. As much as I don’t fancy it, let’s get that big vet company out to see us. They must have at least one specialist who knows horses.”
“You really don’t want to give the town vet a chance?”
“Didn’t I just say that they’re not getting my business? The first two tried to “nice me” to death, which you know I can’t stand. Then the new one needs Google Maps to work out the difference between her elbow and her… well, you know.”
Finn smirked, lifting their wine glass. “Thank you for being so delicate. Always such a lady, Suze.”
“Lady of the manor, and don’t you forget it.”
“Your wicked sister-in-law certainly won’t.”
They both took large sips of wine in solidarity. Susannah tried not to think about all her unread emails, about the pile of paperwork in the office waiting for her signature. Right now there was just well-seasoned meat and the satisfying crunch of vegetables, along with Finn’s calming company. No need to dwell on family unrest, or mouthy little vets with ponytails and altogether too much attitude.
“So the vet was really bad, huh?” Finn asked.
Susannah jumped a little at the sensation that she’d just had her mind read. “Never seen anything like it. I mean, she sounds local, so how she got lost I don’t know. She was driving a tank she can’t even handle, and there I find her, blocking the road like nobody else might ever want to use it. Which, fine, people take wrong turns. But she was quite content to sit there aimlessly as though the world would solve the problem for her. All thought and no action, well, that never got anything done. And like I said, it made me late for saying goodbye.”
They were interrupted by the church-bell sound of the front doorbell. All that was missing were a dozen choirboys and it could have been a Sunday afternoon airing of Songs of Praise.
“I thought we were getting that changed,” Susannah complained.
Finn got to their feet, straightening their shirt while still chewing on some rocket.
“Replacing the doorbell is on the list. It’s just about three hundred places from the top.”
“Oh, go answer the door.”
“Fine.”
Susannah had a feeling she already knew who it was, and raised voices a moment later confirmed it. She wiped her hands with the napkin and took a final mouthful of the wine. It wasn’t going to end until she put in an appearance.
“Robin!” Susannah made sure her utter lack of surprise was obvious as she strode out into the entrance hall. “I didn’t see your name in my calendar. And, Jonathan, here you are again, like the proverbial bad penny.” She tossed Robin’s assistant a withering look.
“Getting an appointment with you is nigh on impossible,” Robin replied in her schoolmarmish voice, snippy as ever. She was the picture of a country wife in her sensible brogues and two layers of tweed. The streaks of grey that were apparent in Robin’s hair when Susannah last saw her a few weeks before had been covered up by an aggressively auburn hair dye. And while she wore no other make-up, there was a swipe of ill-suited coral lipstick at Robin’s lips.
All that was missing was the husband—but Robin, who was in her fifties, had never married. She’d somehow gotten the impression that although neither she nor Susannah could inherit Jimmy’s title, the house and its land would come to her, despite the generous inheritance she’d received from their father, and the fortune she’d made investing it.
Jimmy had explained, before he met Susannah, that his money would go to some sort of charitable foundation; but the facts had never made much of an impression in this particular family feud.
“I’ve been trying to reach Finn here all day,” Jonathan chimed in, “even on the private office line Lord Karlson gave me when I worked here. If we can’t get an appointment, then what else can we do but show up?”
Robin toted Jonathan around everywhere these days like a talking handbag, and Susannah never got a better impression of him than as a sneaky little brother just bursting to tattle at the first opportunity. The fact that he dressed like the unpopular kid in a cartoon didn’t help his case, right down to the fussy dark curls on his head. Well into his thirties, he had the permanent air of a man chasing his lost youth.
“Well, as you probably know from Jimmy saying it often enough, running this estate is a busy job. Not a lot of free time to chat.” Susannah did her best to keep things on civil terms, but Robin’s sheer entitlement drove her crazy. They’d all been born to certain advantages, but Robin was so grasping about wanting what everyone else had. Jonathan was even worse, on her behalf, and whenever he cast a glance towards a vase or a painting, Susannah had the overwhelming urge to make sure it was fixed in place.
“If you’re not up to the job, there are actual family members more qualified. Which is why I felt I had to start this dispute in the first place. And, really, you should be referring to my late brother as Lord Karlson in front of the help. You know what they say about familiarity breeding contempt!”
“It breeds in-laws?” Susannah muttered under her breath.
“Honestly, Susannah, if you would just accept that you’re in over your head, then this wouldn’t need to be acrimonious. You’ve always been helpful. When I take over, I’m sure I could find some sort of project to keep you busy.”
“Oh, could you?” Susannah advanced across the black-and-white marble floor, wishing it looked less like a dusty old chessboard. She could change that if she wanted. Maybe she could invite Robin over to watch someone taking a sledgehammer to it. “And I suppose you’d still throw me out of my house? My home?”
“Now, listen here—”
“No, I don’t think I will. Finn, please show Robin and Jonathan to their car. We’ve got a lot to do this afternoon.”
Finn did their best to corral Robin, but she was on one of her missions and wouldn’t back out without getting the last word. It was funny that no matter how much Susannah looked, she could see nothing of Jimmy’s kindness or quiet nobility in his sister’s face. With her pursed lips and beetling eyebrows, she displayed only temper and sourness. He had always chafed at her snobbery too, how she threw around titles as if they made some people more worthy than others.
His greatest weakness, though, had been opportunistic men like Jonathan, after money and status when Jimmy had been offering simple, discreet affairs. Susannah had spent years turning the agreed blind eye as men had come and gone from the periphery, as women had quietly drifted in and out of her own life in turn.
“You’ll be hearing from me. And my solicitors. You’ll regret fighting me on this,” Robin warned as Finn finally guided her out of the door and down the drive, Jonathan scurrying in their wake.
That left Susannah alone in the cavernous entryway, surveying the kingdom she never exactly asked for.
“Fucking hell, Jimmy. Couldn’t you have broken it gently to your sister before you died? How long am I going to pay for this?”
The house held its stifling silence, of course. Susannah was getting used to the echoing emptiness with each passing day. Everything of Susannah’s had come from a lot of hard work. She came from a titled family in her own right, one older and, in fact, far more distinguished than the Karlsons. Unfortunately, her father had been careless with his gambling, his drinking, and his temper, meaning their estate had all but been stripped for parts while Susannah was yanked in and out of boarding school depending on whether the fees had been paid on time.
Then, like something out of a depressing pulp novel, Susannah had gotten herself into trouble at one of the draughty old schools for sneaking vodka and kissing girls, a shame that even her usually shameless parents couldn’t endure. She’d learned the hard way that her value was in snaring a husband who’d keep them all in a more reliable kind of luxury.
She’d never expected to find a kind man with secrets of his own. Jimmy had simply been looking for a business partner, a wife to keep the other ladies charmed on shoots and endless, tedious dinners. Even with money and power, Jimmy hadn’t ever been able to confront where his real preferences lay.
“I need another drink,” Susannah said to no one, but she ignored the kitchen and its wine. Heading upstairs to the first floor, she made a beeline for the heavy oak door, last on the right. The one thing she had achieved in this first year of widowhood was redecorating their once-shared home office, making it uniquely her own. The old décor, the wooden panels and the Oxford-library desk lamps, had been too much a reminder of her dear, departed partner. Though they’d never shared a bed, they had shared countless hours in this room plotting and planning, trying to get the best out of the estate.
Susannah stood by the fireplace a moment, the bland oil paintings replaced with splashy modern art on canvases that broke up the clean white lines of the walls as she’d redone them. The days and nights they’d worked in here, her one great frustration had been that Jimmy was reluctant to modernize. Now she had the freedom to do just that, but still the obstacles came on every side.