A Roll in the Hay, стр. 25

Chapter 8

It took the rest of the afternoon for Susannah to settle. She flitted from room to room, unable to focus on any particular task for more than a few minutes at a time. She made calls and left a lot of half-written emails in drafts, but whenever she got a chance, she checked in with the grooms to make sure Billie Jean wasn’t in any more discomfort.

She paused for a moment to thank her lucky stars, or whatever it was a person thanked when they didn’t really have religion, that a vet had been so close by. And so competent.

That, Susannah hadn’t expected. She was aware her temper could lead her to rash decisions, but Tess, in all her workday calmness, had been the perfect woman for the job in the field.

Which didn’t make Susannah’s previous decision wrong, per se. She wasn’t entirely convinced by the Elliotts’ vet practice, pleasant though Margo and her husband were. It probably did show ambition that they’d brought someone in from London, but Tess was certainly not what that description immediately conjured to mind.

“I’m considering having you chipped,” Finn said when they finally stumbled across Susannah back in her office. “No matter where I look for you today, you’re not there.”

“Well, I’m here now. Did you see Dave? He came out to help me with Billie Jean and the horse box.”

“He said. Sent him back to get dinner on, didn’t I? I’ve spent some time talking to your solicitor about Robin’s article, and she has a legal strategy to discuss with you. Rather you than me—I just about dozed off making an appointment for it in your diary.”

Finn sat in the visitor’s chair in front of Susannah’s glass-topped desk. “You’ve also got a spot to speak to the council planning committee next week, to start getting approval for all the changes around here.”

“Why are you saying that like I’ve been invited to a funeral?” Susannah asked.

“Because I heard that Jonathan is already out there trying to whip up opposition. Robin might not have the standing to stop you herself, but it seems she’s not above calling in a few favours over there. Or paying out a few backhanders.” Finn fiddled with their glasses. “She thinks all she has to do is stop you for now, then keep trying to challenge your ownership of this place.”

“Surely not everyone is susceptible to her bullying and bribery?” Susannah asked. “I know politics can be grubby, but there must be some decent people we can appeal to? I really don’t want to go down the path of bribing or back-stabbing for my cause.”

“She’s hoping she can harass you, or maybe even, uh, shame you into handing it over. I tried getting something concrete out of Jonathan, since he’s in the loop on everything, and he sort of implied that Robin would pay you off to get her hands on all this. To ‘keep it in the family’ as he put it.”

“I guess that’s what a few generations of total privilege will do for you,” Susannah replied, sinking her head into her hands. It was a little surprising that Jonathan still spoke of the family so fondly, but he’d been working with Robin long enough that he probably was as good as family now. That was some consolation for him then, since he never got the commitment from Jimmy that he wanted. “She wants it, so she just assumes she’ll get it. Remind me how I never developed that sense of sheer entitlement?”

Finn opened their mouth to say something in response, before quickly closing it. Maybe some things were better left unsaid between employer and employee.

Perhaps Susannah was losing perspective a little. Robin going full Marie Antoinette with the privilege certainly didn’t erase the charmed existence that Susannah had been born and then married into.

“The horse is okay?” Finn tried instead.

“Yeah, but it’s been a bit of a day, all told.” Susannah sat up straight. “You know what would cheer me up?”

“Uh, cheering you up isn’t technically in my job description?”

“Never mind that. I think you know what I want. You just have to say it out loud.”

Finn hesitated. “Not the dungeon. Come on, Susannah. We have work to do.”

“I’ve told you not to call it that. Come along. Let’s take ourselves downstairs.”

“But the solicitor! The council!”

Susannah was on her feet, her riding boots traded hours ago for soft leather slippers better for prowling the big old house. She yanked a hair band from around her wrist and pulled back her long blonde curls into a tidy ponytail.

“Just an hour. You’ll work up an appetite for dinner, which means you’ll appreciate Dave’s cooking even more.”

“You’ve been out riding half the day. Won’t you just end up working all night when I go home?” Finn’s resolve had weakened, and they were falling in step as Susannah led the way down the hall to the back stairs.

“That’s my problem. We deserve this, trust me. There are weeks and months of trouble and hard work to come. We should relax while we can.”

“There aren’t many bosses like you,” Finn said as they reached the door at the foot of the stairs.

The house had various basements and cellars—mostly around the kitchen for wine and other kinds of storage. This, though, was one of Susannah’s favourite features in the whole mansion. The office was comfortable, and her bedroom was an oasis for sure. There was even the home gym up in a converted part of the attic space, in what would once have been servants’ quarters. Susannah had reclaimed it when the last of the live-in staff had moved out.

“Okay, pick your poison.” Susannah held up two DVD cases from the cabinet in the corner.

“I’ve memorized both of those by now.”

“That’s right, Woman of the Year it is. Great choice. Can’t go wrong with a