A Roll in the Hay, стр. 43

“I don’t mind,” Susannah replied.

Waffles gave Tess a reproachful look with his big brown eyes, staying put at Susannah’s side.

Joan turned her attention to Susannah, nodding to Tess as she did. “Dr Robinson here was just telling me about the lovely time she had at the big LGBT night out the other week. Didn’t you mention something about that?”

“I might have mentioned that Finn was trying to drag me there, yes,” Susannah replied.

“You two might well have bumped into each other, then,” Joan persisted, as she worked the machine to produce the requested coffee. “Or crossed paths, if you will.”

“I really do have to be getting on.” Susannah set some cash on top of the counter and almost snatched the paper cup from Joan’s hand as soon as she offered it.

“We’re going out to see those horses tomorrow, yeah?” Tess should have let Susannah escape as quickly as possible, but some annoying little impulse asked the question to make her stick around.

“If that’s what the calendar says, then yes. I understand if you’re too busy.”

“Not at all. Finn’s letting me know what time to collect you.”

“But—”

“Thanks for the strawberry tart, Joan.” Tess picked up the plate and her coffee, relieved when Waffles followed her back to the table. His first loyalty would always be to snacks he thought he could steal.

For a moment, it looked as though Susannah would swing by Tess’s table to argue about who would get to drive, but instead she sauntered out on those long legs, forcing Tess to keep her eyes front and not appreciate the sight of Susannah Karlson walking away.

Tess was ten minutes early, so she killed the engine and took a proper look at the Midsummer mansion from the front. She must have been right in her previous assessment of at least ten bedrooms. The two wings of the house were as grand as each other, and Tess found herself speculating which of those huge windows marked Susannah’s bedroom.

Years ago, when it had first opened to summer tours, Caroline had dragged Tess around Buckingham Palace with a bunch of tourists. While they’d all seemed fascinated by antique tea sets and heavy silk drapes, Tess had spent most of the time counting down the minutes until they’d be free to leave. She’d never been dazzled by opulence.

Did Susannah have one of those ridiculous four-poster beds? Not that Tess would get to see it anytime soon, not when they couldn’t make it to a second kiss. What did someone even put in all those other rooms? Was there a gym? Susannah obviously worked out and…huh. That kiss had really done a number on Tess’s attention span when it came to the lady of the manor.

She was just debating if there was time to nip down to the stables and say a quick hello to the horses, who hadn’t needed much attention from her since Billie Jean’s leg recovered, when Susannah came marching out the front door.

The look today was every bit the country gentlewoman: Creamy jodhpurs, pulled taut across Susannah’s shapely thighs, disappeared into those familiar riding boots. On top, the lightly quilted navy Barbour jacket was buttoned and belted, but it offered a glimpse of grey cashmere under it. No riding helmet, since they were just going to look at horses, but Susannah had her hair back in a low bun.

She stopped just short of the car and gave it a once-over, shaking her head slowly before opening the passenger door and easing her way in. “You’re on time. Good,” was her idea of a greeting. “Sure this thing can handle the rougher roads? This farm really is in the back of the beyond. We’ll be almost in England.”

“Oh no, not England,” Tess deadpanned. She started the car, and of course it decided not to take first time. Muttering curses under her breath, she tried again. This time the engine roared into life. With just a sideways glance at Susannah’s doubtful expression, Tess jabbed at the sound system and let the playlist she’d been listening to remove any need for conversation.

They were all the way down the long driveway and onto the main road before Susannah reached out and turned the volume back down.

“Do you mind?” Tess could adjust it back up from the steering wheel, but she was too curious about whether Susannah wanted to talk. Maybe she was just being territorial and petty. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“Melissa Etheridge? Really? Were they all out of new CDs at the cliché factory?”

They passed the pub and both raised a hand to wave to Babs as she stood outside arguing with a delivery driver.

“First of all, it’s a playlist, so she’s not the only one on there. Secondly, Melissa is a legend, and I won’t stand for besmirching her name in this car.”

“Besmirching?”

“You know what I mean. I’m sure you’d rather we listened to something classical on a BBC station, but some of us like a song you can sing along to.” Tess let her speed pick up as they got out of the populated part of town. It was all long and winding roads from here. She almost always checked her routes before driving anywhere, scrolling through her map app like she’d be tested on it. If only she’d been so diligent on the day she arrived in Hayleith.

“You don’t know the first thing about my music tastes,” Susannah replied, reverting back to that frosty voice she usually reserved for her meddling sister-in-law. “For all you know, I could be the karaoke queen of the Scottish Borders.”

“I hate karaoke.”

“That’s like saying you hate fun,” Susannah said, and it was genuinely impossible to tell whether she was serious or not.

Tess lapsed into the silence, letting Melissa give way to Pat Benatar, which Susannah actually hummed along to.

Only the SatNav spoke for the next few miles, before curiosity got the better of Tess. “This one of your standards at karaoke, then?” she asked.

Susannah exhaled loudly in dismissal. Right,