e indebted to me. I’ve already told you—’
‘How rich you are?’ Lizzie interrupted him. ‘Here in Rottingdean we help each other out regardless of how rich or poor we are, and, whether I’ve got money or not, I’ll find some way to help these people. I’m not going to let them down.’
‘You don’t want to let them down,’ he argued, ‘but without a large injection of cash you don’t stand a chance of saving the estate. And where else are you going to get the money, Lizzie?’
‘I’ll find a way,’ she said stubbornly.
‘I would love nothing more than to believe you, but for once you’ve taken on more than you can handle.’
She braced her shoulders. ‘Didn’t you say you had a bed in the village?’
‘Yes. At the pub,’ he confirmed.
She stared pointedly at him, telling him it was time to go.
‘I’ll bid you goodnight,’ he said formally.
‘Goodnight, Chico.’ Walking to the door, she held it open for him. ‘Thank you for being here when I needed you.’
He smiled wryly. ‘Somehow I think you could have handled them on your own.’
‘Maybe,’ Lizzie agreed with a thin smile. ‘But I’m glad we got the truth out of them at last.’
‘Nothing we didn’t already know, or suspect,’ he said. ‘But, as you say, it was good to get it out in the open, though it must have been a shock for you when they turned up on your doorstep.’
‘It was quite a shock,’ Lizzie admitted, holding his stare as she rested back against the door, ‘but not nearly as much of a surprise as when you made your entrance.’
‘Glad I could be of assistance,’ he said dryly. ‘Goodnight, Lizzie.’
She made a soft little sound when he caught her close on his way out of the door. He brushed her lips with his, and then, because he couldn’t resist, he deepened the kiss, and Lizzie tasted every bit as good as he remembered—possibly even better, now they were back together at Rottingdean, where memories pooled and swirled around them.
‘So you’re leaving me again?’ she said when he pulled away.
‘I’m not leaving you again,’ he argued gently. ‘I wouldn’t have left the first time, if Eduardo had allowed me to stay. But what could I offer you then, Lizzie? A dream we made up in the stable? I had to go when Eduardo left. I had no money to do as I pleased. But tonight you shouldn’t be alone, so I’m going to ask Annie to come back and stay with you.’
He didn’t add that the next time he took Lizzie to bed would be at the right time and for all the right reasons, and that wasn’t now.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SHE WAS A SMALL, slight figure, muffled up against the sharp, icy wind in a black coat that looked several sizes too big for her and a scarf that could have served as a blanket for a medium-sized pony. Her hair was whipping around her face, and she looked pale and strained, but composed. The cemetery was full. So full, people were lining the railings outside, and the surrounding streets were cordoned off to cope with the crowds. The village of Rottingdean and the surrounding area had come to a standstill. All the small shops had closed for the day. There would have been no point opening when everyone was at the funeral. What a wonderful legacy for anyone to leave, he thought as he walked up to the grave.
Lizzie remained rigidly in place as the single red rose landed on the coffin. She didn’t turn to see who had dropped it onto the polished mahogany casket. Every sense she possessed gave her the answer to that question. She was glad to have Chico’s reassuring presence close by. She had expected the ceremony to be smaller and more private. Discovering her grandmother had done so many kind deeds for people over the years made her loss even harder to bear and the grief keener. Lizzie had hoped she could hide away and contain her sadness, but that had not been possible. The people had decided that her grandmother would be sent off with a skirl of the pipes and a chorus of happy songs from the local school children. And she was proud and happy for her grandmother, if lost and grief-stricken for herself. But none of this could show. She still had an estate to save. As her grandmother would have done, she lifted her chin and stared into a future that was hers to mould. Feeling Chico at her side as the final ceremony drew to a close, she turned to face him and felt the familiar tug of longing as she did so.
‘Thank you for coming.’
His concerned gaze was steady on her face. He turned to the older woman at his side. ‘You remember Maria?’
‘Yes, of course I do.’ Lizzie smiled warmly. ‘It’s very good of you to come all this way.’
‘I had to be here.’ Maria gave her a hug of the same calibre as Annie’s, and if anything could bring tears to Lizzie’s eyes, it was that warmth, that genuine affection.
‘I’m very sorry for your loss, Lizzie,’ Maria said gently, letting go of her hands. ‘I’m so glad I could be here to celebrate your grandmother’s life with you. Chico tells me she was a remarkable lady.’
‘She was,’ Lizzie confirmed softly.
‘Ah, there’s Annie,’ Maria said. ‘Will you both excuse me? I promised to help at the house when everyone arrives.’
‘Of course.’
Now they were alone again, Chico’s dark stare reached down into her soul, grabbed it tight and squeezed it hard. She was a lost cause where Chico was concerned, Lizzie concluded ruefully. ‘I have to stay and thank everyone,’ she explained. ‘There’s no point in you standing here freezing.’
‘And if I want to stand here freezing?’
‘Then, I can’t stop you, but don’t you ever tire of playing the white knight?’
‘I can be bad.’
Heat coursed through her. No one knew that better than she did.
Chico remained at her side until she had thanked the last mourner. He was like a brazier of moral warmth: strong, firm, and reassuring. If she closed her mind to all the financial problems she was facing, she could almost believe everything would be all right. She would save the estate—convince the bank to back her, and the heritage society to take on the responsibility of Rottingdean House to protect it from greedy developers—
But, would it? Would it be all right?
She had to put all that out of her mind as the minister of the small village kirk came to offer his support and Chico took that as his cue to leave.
‘Won’t you come back to the house?’
He turned to look at her and her heart squeezed tight. Wind-whipped and resolute, Chico was so brazenly strong and piratical, his dark eyes and swarthy skin so violently at odds with the fair Celts surrounding him.
‘I’ll give you a chance to collect yourself, and come by later.’
Her stomach dropped with disappointment. She didn’t know when he planned to leave and go back to Brazil, so every moment she could spend with him was infinitely precious now. ‘Everyone’s heading up to the house,’ she called back. ‘And Maria’s there, helping Anna.’
With a nod of his head, he turned to walk away. Which way would he go? she wondered as Chico paused to speak to those who thought they remembered the dark stranger from some years back. She couldn’t help but notice how pleasant he was with everyone, and how people liked him, and then she was swept up in a phalanx of mourners, all heading to the big house for the wake, and she lost sight of him.
It was impossible to carry her worries back to the house when the pipers were leading them forward with a jaunty tune, and she was safe in the middle of a haven of warmth and support, full of the grit and humour that was so typical of Rottingdean. There had been hard times before, and there might be hard times again, but the people of Rottingdean stuck together, and that was how they got through them. Anecdotes about her grandmother made the brisk walk short and pleasant, so that by the time they arrived at the house Lizzie was so bolstered by all the good cheer and support she was receiving, she had almost forgotten the ch
allenges she faced. The first of these was waiting for her outside the front door.
So that was why Chico had rushed back.
He had wanted to surprise her, and had to be back to receive the van and driver, who had parked up at the bottom of the steps. The van doors were open and Lizzie could see hampers of food and cases of her grandmother’s favourite pink champagne.
‘After all these years, you remembered,’ she exclaimed.
‘Your grandmother’s favourite champagne?’ Chico shrugged. ‘A great lady deserves a great send-off, and I haven’t forgotten a single thing about the days I spent here.’
Lizzie took a second look at the expression in his eyes. Chico Fernandez, the man reputed to care for nothing and no one, except the game of polo, was showing emotion, and plenty of it. The thought that he was capable of feeling showed how much he’d changed, and that was all it took to make her heart thunder.
* * *
He was pleased to see Maria enjoying the gathering. She seemed to have formed an immediate friendship with Annie, and the two women were busy distributing drinks and food. Lizzie was a natural with everyone, but he could see exhaustion building behind her eyes. It had been a long day for her, and she’d had a mountain to climb since returning to Scotland, and there would be more problems ahead. In a few days’ time the will would be read, which meant her parents would be back. Vultures never stayed away for long. Meanwhile, lights were blazing, and the old house had come back to life again, thanks to Lizzie. Fires were blazing in the hearths, and there were small gifts for everyone to take home with them, each of them carefully wrapped beneath a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. He had no fears for Lizzie. It was only natural that she was tired now, but she had more of her grandmother in her than she knew.
He stayed at the wake as long as was politely necessary, and then he took up an invitation by the gamekeeper Hamish to look round the estate.
‘A breath of fresh air is what we both need, I think,’ Hamish told him as he led the way.
‘I couldn’t agree with you more,’ he said, glancing back at Lizzie, who had been studiously ignoring him since he arrived. He hadn’t said when he would be leaving, and he guessed she didn’t want to make the same mistake she’d made fifteen years ago by thinking he would always be around. As far as Lizzie was concerned, this was day one of her new life, and, like everything else she did, he knew she would stride boldly forward into the future with or without him.