One Summer in Cornwall Karen King (positive books to read TXT) 📖

‘I love it. And so will my husband,’ Lady Felicity said approvingly. ‘And I must say, we really look the part, don’t we, Estelle?’

Estelle flashed Marcus a dazzling smile. ‘We certainly do. Although, I’m very pleased that I don’t live in those times. Women were so restricted. I like to be free.’ She gave Marcus a knowing look.

‘I think that was only on the surface, dear. Victorian women weren’t as strait-laced as everyone thinks. Especially the higher classes. It was accepted that you would marry someone with money to keep the property within the family, provide an heir and then you were free to satisfy your own desires – and both partners often did.’

‘I think that’s still pretty much what goes on today,’ Estelle said.

‘Well, it certainly wasn’t in our case, I can assure you,’ Lady Felicity retorted. ‘Now, let me settle up with you for this, Marcus. And you will come along to Rupert’s birthday party on Sunday, won’t you? I know he’ll want to meet the artist who painted this wonderful picture. It will be good networking for you too; I think this will gain you a few commissions.’

There was nothing he wanted to do less. Marcus had been planning on spending the day surfing. He was working at Gwel Teg all day Saturday because of the wedding and was looking forward to a complete day off on Sunday. Hobnobbing with the Thomwells was definitely not his idea of fun. And it would mean socialising with Estelle without having the excuse of working for her father to turn down her advances.

‘Well . . .’

‘Of course you must come. I’ll come and pick you up. We don’t want you arriving in that ghastly camper van. And do dress up smart, this is a special occasion,’ Estelle said firmly.

He definitely didn’t want Estelle picking him up, but perhaps he ought to go. Lady Thomwell was right, it could get him some important commissions. He intended to make his own way there, though, and definitely didn’t want to accompany Estelle. Neither did he want her telling him how to dress.

‘Nonsense, darling, Marcus can dress as he chooses – his hippiness is part of his charm,’ Lady Felicity said. ‘The party is starting at three. Don’t be late, will you?’ This last remark was directed at Marcus. ‘I’ll just go and get my chequebook,’ she said, walking off.

‘Ignore Mother, she thinks it’s trendy to befriend a bohemian artist. You have to look the part if you want to get the right kind of business. If you arrive in your surfer clothes, no one will take you seriously. You really need to make the right impression.’

‘I know you mean well, Estelle, but I’m an artist not a businessman. People commission me for how I paint, not how I look. If your mother is happy for me to come as myself, then that’s fine by me. I’ll be there at three on the dot, but I won’t be able to stay long as I have plans for the afternoon.’

Estelle pouted. ‘No need to get all haughty, I was only trying to help.’

Take over more like. Which is one of the reasons he would never have a relationship with Estelle, even if she wasn’t a client’s daughter. He had no interest in women who wanted him to conform – he liked individuality.

Like Hattie.

An image of her clutching the tablecloth around her naked body, the pretty stars-and-crescent moon tattoo clearly visible on the top of her right arm, flashed across his mind, followed by another one of her clad in black leathers, astride her motorbike. He’d never met anyone quite like Hattie. Then, he had an idea. If he could persuade Hattie to come with him, that would surely put Estelle off? But would Hattie agree to it?

‘Perhaps I could bring my girlfriend, then I can stay a little longer,’ he suggested.

He saw Estelle’s eyes narrow. ‘Girlfriend? You didn’t mention this before.’

‘We haven’t been dating that long, although it’s got serious very fast and I am going out with her on Sunday evening.’

Estelle’s blood-red lips parted into a cunning smile. ‘Of course, do bring her. I’d love to meet her.’

Marcus realised that rather than put Estelle off, the knowledge that he had a girlfriend was merely a challenge to her. And what if he couldn’t persuade Hattie to come?

‘I’ll ask her, she might prefer to give it a miss.’

Estelle ran her tongue between her lips. ‘Whatever she decides I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun.’

Lady Thomwell returned then, brandishing his cheque, and Estelle walked off, swaying her hips seductively. She certainly wasn’t going to be put off easily, Marcus thought. And how the hell was he going to broach the subject of coming to the party with him to Hattie?

It was about a quarter to eleven when Hattie finally heard a knock on the door.

‘I’m sorry I’m so late, a couple of the diners really took their time,’ Marcus apologised. ‘I was wondering whether to leave it until tomorrow but thought you might be waiting so I should at least explain.’

‘No worries, I’m still up sorting out the kitchen. Come in.’ She opened the door wide enough for him to step inside.

‘Hello, Buddy,’ Marcus said as he walked in. Immediately Buddy turned around and started squawking loudly. ‘Bloody hell! Hello! Hello!’ he shouted.

Marcus grinned. ‘Well, you looked pleased to see me.’

Buddy was practically hopping up and down on the perch. He looked so animated as Marcus walked over to the cage. Hattie watched as Marcus thrust his hand in his pocket, took out a slice of apple and held it out to the parrot. Buddy took it very carefully with his beak, standing on one leg while he held the slice of apple with the other claw and started nibbling at it. She could hardly believe the change in the parrot. He really was very fond of Marcus.

‘Well, you’ve cheered him up,’ she said.

Marcus looked inside the cage. ‘He’s