Feeling a flutter of excitement at the thought that all that was missing now were the guests, Savannah slowly turned full circle one last time to take everything in.
He was annoyed at being late, but it couldn’t be helped. The meeting had run on longer than he’d thought. The England squad was already here. He’d seen their coach in the courtyard. He could hear the sound of male laughter as he strode across the hall. He ran up to his room to shower and change, eager to get back down and support Savannah. There was too much testosterone floating around for his liking. It was only on his way downstairs again that he realised the sounds he could hear were not coming from the kitchen, but from the dining-room. He frowned as he retraced his steps across the hall. The room had been shut up for years…
A manservant opened the double doors for him with a flourish, and as he stood on the threshold he was momentarily stunned. The scene laid out in front of him showed the oak-panelled dining-room fully restored to its former glory. It was a haven of colour and warmth, and the sound of fun and laughter drew him in.
If Savannah had chosen to be a theatrical designer rather than a singer, she couldn’t have conjured up a more glamorous set. But in the centre of that set was the centre of his attention: Savannah, looking more dazzling than he’d ever seen her.
Looking…There were no words to describe how Savannah looked. With her soft, golden curls hanging loose in a shimmering curtain down her back, she looked ethereal, and yet glamorous and womanly. She was playing hostess to the squad in a stunning pale-pink gown that fitted her voluptuous figure perfectly. This was no child, or some wanton sex-kitten displaying her wares in front of a roomful of men. This was a real woman, a woman with class, with heart and light in her eyes, a woman he now remembered was accustomed to working alongside men on her parents’ farm, which explained her ease of manner. That was what made it so easy for his friends on the squad to relate to her, he realised.
‘Ethan…’
Seeing him, her face lit up, and as she came towards him he realised he had expected to be shunned after the churlish way he’d treated her, but instead she was holding out her hands to invite him in. She was more than beautiful, he realised in that moment; Savannah was one of those rare people: a force for good.
‘Come,’ she said softly. ‘Come and meet your guests, Ethan.’
His attention was centred on her after that moment, and though he was quickly immersed in the camaraderie of the team he was acutely aware of her every second.
The boys in the squad laughed goodnaturedly, and made him admit that what Savannah had organised for them was a whole lot better than a quiet kitchen-supper. He agreed, and eventually even he was laughing. What Savannah had done for the team had made them feel special. She made him feel special.
It thrilled Savannah to see what an inspiration Ethan was to the younger players. Everyone showed him the utmost respect. At Ethan’s insistence she was sitting next to him. She couldn’t bear to think this was the last occasion when she would do that.
‘Here’s to England winning the Six Nations,’ he said, standing up to deliver the toast. ‘And here’s to the only one amongst us without a broken nose.’
It took Savannah a moment to realise Ethan was raising his glass to her, and as everyone laughed and cheered he added, ‘To our gracious hostess for the evening, the lovely Savannah Ross.’
‘Savannah Ross!’ the squad chorused, raising their glasses to her.
Savannah’s cheeks were crimson, but Ethan hadn’t finished with her yet. ‘Would you sing for us?’ he murmured discreetly. As his warm breath brushed her cheeks her heart beat even faster. She was touched by the request, but terrified at the thought of singing in front of a room full of people, all of whose faces she could see quite clearly. There was no nice, safe barrier of blinding footlights to hide behind here.
‘I’m sure you don’t want to hear my rendition of Rusalka’s Song to the Moon!’ She laughed, as if the aria’s romantic title would be enough to put him off.
But Ethan wasn’t so easily dissuaded. ‘That sounds lovely.’ He looked round the table for confirmation, and everyone agreed.
As the room went still, Savannah wondered could she do this? Could she sing the song of the water-sprite telling the moon of her love for one man? And could she do that with Ethan staring at her?
Help him in dreams to think of me…
‘No pressure,’ Ethan said dryly.
Pressing her fingertips on the table, she slowly got up.
Silvery moon in the great, dark sky…
Savannah hardly remembered what happened after the opening line, because she was lost in the music and the meaning of the words. She didn’t come to until she heard everyone cheering and banging the table. And then she found Ethan at her side. ‘Did I—?’
‘Sing beautifully?’ he said, staring deep into her eyes. ‘Yes, you did.’
She relaxed and, laughing as she shook her head in exaggerated complaint, raised her eyes to the ceiling for the benefit of the squad. ‘What can you do with him?’
‘What can you do with him?’ Ethan murmured, but when her quick glance brushed his face she saw his expression hadn’t changed. It was always so hard to know what Ethan was thinking.
‘Our only difficulty with Ethan,’ one of the players told her, ‘is that he refuses to consider anything that has his name, a team, a ball, and a rugby pitch in the same sentence.’
‘Leave it,’ Ethan warned goodnaturedly when he overheard this comment.
Savannah kept her thoughts to herself. But didn’t everyone know Ethan’s injuries had prevented him from further involvement in the game? He just couldn’t risk one of the man-mountains landing on top of him. Tactfully, she changed the subject. Tapping her water glass with a spoon, she offered to sing an encore if the boys would help her with the chorus. And as she’d hoped that soon took the spotlight off Ethan.
After murdering every song they could think of, the players retired to bed, while Savannah insisted on changing and staying behind to help the staff clear up. ‘It’s late,’ she told Ethan, ‘and everyone’s tired. We’ve had a wonderful evening, thanks to your staff working so late, so I’m going to stay and help them.’