The Gardens of Blackfell Read online

Page 3


  Tara raised her head to the dusky sky above and sighed shakily. He had scared her with his intensity, his obvious desire for her. But she knew that if he had pushed her further, she would have let him.

  She retrieved her car keys, climbed back into her little car and re-entered her life.

  She left Blackfell Estate and didn’t look back. She stopped at a small road side cafe and treated herself to a pastry and a strong coffee. It tasted great and the heaviness of the disappointment of almost having the job of her dreams dissipated with every mile she got closer to home.

  She felt almost back to normal by the time she drove up the familiar country track to her little home. It was pitch dark now and as she got out the car, she stretched her stiff legs. The sky was magnificent. A clear, cool night made the stars reveal themselves in their dazzling brilliance,a familiar sight that never failed to delight her.

  She opened the door, desperate for a hot shower and her warm bed. She would reflect on all that had happened tomorrow. Tonight was for long and dreamless sleep.

  The overpowering floral scent was the first thing she noticed as she walked in through her front door.

  She reached for the light switch and couldn’t believe what she saw.

  Every surface was covered with roses, hundreds of red roses. Every surface, sill and shelf., the hearth of the fire, large parts of the floor.

  Her shock turned to curiosity and then anger. Who had sent these roses? Who had got into her house to do this? She just wanted to go to bed, wanted to get back to her straightforward, easy, nice life.

  Her eyes were drawn to a little white envelope on the mantelpiece. Picking her way through the vases of flowers that were deposited on the floor, she picked up the envelope and opened it.

  ‘Blackfell need a great Landscape Architect. I will see you tomorrow. 10am. X’

  Glancing at her watch, Tara knew it had only been about three hours since she had left Blackfell. She was astonished that Xander Ashbrook would know what had passed between her and Arlen, that she was not taking the job, particularly after the fight that the two men had had. She could not imagine Xander and Arlen having any kind of civil discussion about anything at the moment.

  Tara was too tired to ponder anymore and she decided to close the door on her room of roses and head up to her bed. She had no worries about Xander’s card. She was a long way from Blackfell now. And she was glad now to have made the decision to leave it behind. Already Arlen’s predication of trouble appeared to be founded.

  She showered, brushed her teeth, dried her long dark hair and tied it back in a loose pleat. She shrugged on her camisole and climbed between the cool cotton sheets. Sleep came quickly and she slept a dreamless, untroubled sleep.

  Next morning, somewhere in her sleep muddled mind, a noise, increasingly loud, pulled her from her slumber.

  She glanced at her alarm clock, 7:44. What was going on? What was that noise?

  Increasingly alarmed, ‘What is that noise?’

  The whole house vibrated, the panes of glass rattling in their frames. Tara could feel the vibrations through the floor.

  She sat bolt upright, trying to work out if the sound was coming from inside or outside. She raced to the window. A black helicopter was landing in her front garden, noise deafening, blades spinning but gradually slowing.

  ‘What on earth......’ she whispered to herself.

  The door to the helicopter opened as the blades continued to slow and Xander Ashbrook stepped out, immaculate and striking in his casual clothes.

  He strode purposefully towards her cottage.

  ‘I really don’t believe this. I just don’t believe it,’ she whispered to herself.

  A moment later there was a loud knock at the door.

  Tara sat back on the bed trying to weigh up her options. Could she stay up here and ignore him? Could she shout out her window, tell him to leave her alone?

  ‘Tara.’

  His voice was loud and commanding.

  He knocked on the door again.

  ‘No!,’ she berated herself for not locking the door. She rarely did. Crime was not a problem here in the beautiful hills of rural Perthshire and locking a door was simply not required in this close-knit community. What if he decided to try the door?

  ‘Tara.’

  She went to the stairs, moving against her will, every sinew in her body wanting to go back to bed and dive under her blankets. To hide.

  He kept knocking at her door and as she approached the increasing noise became more alarming.

  She opened the door and stood face to face with the man who had thrown a woman out on to his front doorstep less than twenty four hours ago, a man who had taken his helicopter and landed on her front lawn, a man who had just about floored his gardener, a man to whom rules didn’t apply.

  She couldn’t speak.

  His eyes swept down her body and she realised that she was still only wearing her camisole top and briefs.

  She tried to cover her exposed cleavage, clutching her top over her breasts.

  ‘Tara. I know I said 10 but this couldn’t wait. Could I come in?’

  ‘Well....’

  ‘Please Tara.’

  She opened the door a little wider and stood aside to let him past. He wasn’t going to leave without speaking to her and she just wanted to get this over with.

  He walked past her, tall and fresh and achingly handsome.

  ‘I’m afraid you’ll have nowhere to sit Mr Ashbrook,’ she said coldly as he entered her small living room, strewn with roses.

  She decided to leave him to sort out his own mess and headed off to the kitchen to put on the kettle.

  He was on her territory. He could wait.

  She filled up the kettle and placed it on the wood burning Esse range, bending to put a match to the fire.

  ‘Tara.’

  She spun round to find him standing watching her in the doorway.

  ‘Do you get some kind of kick out of making an entrance?’ she turned on him, startled.

  He didn’t answer.

  ‘Mr Ashbrook. What do you want?’

  ‘I said at the house yesterday that we didn’t get off to the best of starts. I’m sorry for that. I need you Tara, I need someone who can achieve what you can achieve.’

  ‘You came to my house, landed your helicopter in my front garden...... to tell me that Mr Ashbrook? I’m sure fo I’m you must have a better way to spend your time. I understand that the grounds of Blackfell are hardly your forte.’

  ‘Look Tara, I’m not perfect. I’m too used to getting my own way. I also want what’s best for Blackfell, whether it’s the house or the grounds.’

  ‘I understood that Mr Emberline looked after the estate grounds. Why are you here .....really? This all seems .....excessive.’

  He laughed.

  ‘Yes, I guess it does. I’ve an island on the West Coast. I’m just heading there now for a few days. I thought I’d drop past to get this....you.....sorted.’

  Tara looked at him incredulous.

  ‘The job was like a wonderful gift, more than I could’ve hoped for. It’s not me or the job that needs sorted, Mr Ashbrook. It’s whatever problem there is between you and Mr Emberline. You and Arlen came to blows at the Estate cottage....... Look, please just leave. You’ve made a big enough intrusion into my life. ’

  She turned from him, angry now, arms crossed and dismissive.

  ‘If you return to take this job, I’ll make sure that Emberline doesn’t bother you. You’ll have complete autonomy in the walled garden. Employ who you want, buy what you need. The cottage on the Estate is far enough away from pretty much anything that could trouble you.’

  ‘Arlen Emberline didn’t ever bother me. When Arlen first offered me the job he did so with reservations, reservations about me because he thought that I might cause trouble between yourself and him. He appeared to be right. As attractive as your proposal is, I can’t accept a job where my two employers are at war.’

>   Xander Ashbrook lowered his gaze.

  ‘I’m laying my cards on the table Tara. I don’t do this often you know,’ he smiled, but would not meet her gaze,

  ’I met you yesterday and yes, I admit, I was very attracted to you.......and what happened with Emberline yesterday........ well.....he’s a man too.’

  He paused and added, ‘You are beautiful Tara Applebee. ’

  Tara felt truly bewildered at this admission from Xander Ashbrook. Flattered, yes. But angry too. She didn’t like his supreme, his superior attitude. She pulled her long pleat of hair anxiously, not sure where to go from here.

  ‘I don’t know what to say Mr Ashbrook. Really. Your words are... well.....’

  ‘I want you to say that you’ll come back to Blackfell, put what’s happened behind us. Please Tara.’

  He took a couple of steps towards her and took the hand that fiddled with her pleat and held it to him.

  ‘Please.’

  Overwhelmed by his presence she turned from him, pulling her hand away.

  He gripped her shoulders and turned her back towards him.

  ‘You have my word that you’ll have no more trouble with Emberline.’

  His hands held her firmly. His eyes dropped to her breasts and for a moment she wondered what he was going to do to her. His passion and intensity were obvious in his luminescent blue eyes.

  For a fleeting moment she felt scared, on one level anxious that there was no-one here she could call on for help if Xander forced himself on her and on another level, desperate to have him touch her, run his fingers over her, feel him inside her.

  But he let her go, turning sharply on his heel.

  ‘I want to see you back at Blackfell as soon as possible.’

  He left and moments later she heard the rotor blades of the helicopter start, the noise rising to a crescendo, the rattle of the window panes. Peace returned very quickly and Tara, still rooted to the spot in the kitchen, wondered if she had just had some particularly vivid dream. The kettle started boiling, breaking her trance.

  Tara made herself a large cup of tea, a thick slice of hot buttered toast and headed back to bed. Tucked under the blankets, watching the wind blow the tall elms outside her little cottage, Tara pondered her options.

  She could stay here, head off to the next interview. She would have no trouble finding something else. She was in demand professionally.

  Or she could take a chance with the gardener and his boss at Blackfell. A fantastic job opportunity, great salary, home and car provided. She was sure that she could deal with these men. She would need to keep her distance, to get on with her job. Could she trust herself to keep her mind on the job?

  It was later that day that she found herself packing her suitcase, some groceries and essentials, locking up the house and heading back down the road in her little car to Blackfell.

  3.

  This time her nerves were under control as she passed through the entrance gates of Blackfell Estate. The voice at the other end of the security intercom let her through the gates as soon as she told him her name. She knew where to go this time, by-passing the house and straight past the Gardener’s Quadrangle. There was not a soul to be seen and she passed unhindered and unquestioned through the long estate roads and up to the Waterfall Cottage. When she had last left she had noted that Arlen Emberline had hung the keys for the cottage in a small box to the side of house and this was where they hung still.

  Letting herself into the house, she once again delighted on her good fortune, happy that she had made the decision to return. It felt right being here. She put a match to the fire, the cool night once again drawing in. The fire caught with a pleasing whoosh and the crack and snap of the kindling was all the company that she needed in her new home.

  She unloontaded her car, putting the basic groceries she had taken with her into the empty kitchen cupboards and fridge. She unpacked her suitcase in her new bedroom, wandering back and forth to the window to watch and listen to the waterfall outside her little cottage.

  Drawing the curtains against the velvet black darkness outside, she poured herself a glass of wine and ran a bath, pouring in the expensive bubble bath that sat invitingly beside the taps. She checked the fire adding another large log to the fading glow and headed back to the bathroom, shrugging off her clothes. The water was wonderfully warm as she sank into the gently scented bubbles, relaxing her stiff, travel-weary muscles.

  She laid her head back, luxuriating in the peace, closing her eyes.

  ‘Tara Applebee.’

  Startled, her eyes flicked open and she sat up in the bath and crossed her arms across her breasts. Arlen Emberline stood watching her in the doorway.

  ‘Oh God Arlen. What on earth are you doing here?’ How did you get in?’

  She sank back under the bubbles again as she realised that his eyes were drawn to her barely concealed breasts.

  ‘I saw the smoke coming from the house on the skyline. I thought we maybe had uninvited guests. It’s not the first time it’s happened.’

  He ran his fingers through his hair, ‘Sorry Tara. I didn’t mean to frighten you.’

  He looked at the floor and Tara saw his long dark lashes against his olive skin. His dark hair although short, was untamed.

  ‘I’m glad you’ve decided to stay.’

  Tara noted with some surprise that he didn’t ask any questions. He just seemed to be glad she was here.

  He made no move to leave the room.

  Tara felt she had to explain.

  ‘I had a visit from Mr Ashbrook this morning. He kind of twisted my arm, asked me to take the job.’

  He sighed, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he gritted his teeth.

  ‘Yes. He can be most persuasive when he wants something,’ The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

  Feeling vulnerable in the bath she skirted round his obvious irritation, trying to ask him to leave without being impolite.

  ‘Arlen, I’m sorry to drag you up here, I really am. I should’ve stopped past to tell you what was going on............but ...look....I’ll see you tomorrow I guess.’

  He took his invitation to leave her.

  ‘OK, see you then Tara,’ and then added as he turned from her, ‘Look Tara, would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow. No strings.’

  She hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer. She didn’t want to encourage any relationship other than a working one but she didn’t want to appear stand-offish and ungrateful.

  ‘Sure......that would be nice.’

  ‘See you about 8 then.’

  He left and it was only when she heard the door close downstairs that she relaxed totally.

  Arlen Emberline was passionate, dishevelled and genuine. He wore his heart on his sleeve. Xander Ashbrook was controlled and controlling, perfectly dressed, manicured and manipulative. Both men were strong and captivatingly handsome. Both men made Tara feel light-headed and a bit giddy when they were near her.

  She lay back in the bath and ran a toe over the tap contemplatively, curious about the way these men made her feel.

  She got dressed, made herself a cup of cocoa and curled up on the sofa in front of the crackling fire. The warmth enveloped her and she sank happily into the feather filled cushions looking forward to her work tomorrow. The fire gradually faded to a few glowing embers and at last, sleepy and warm, she made her way up to bed. Tucking herself under the down blankets and thick cotton sheets, the faint sound of the waterfall lulled her to a deep and peaceful sleep.

  Tara’s alarm clock rang at 6 the next morning and she awoke feeling refreshed and excited about the work she planned for the day ahead. It was another beautiful day and although the morning was cool she knew it would soon be hot. She had a boiled egg and some toast, hot coffee and then a shower. She put on her minimal make-up, smudging a dark line of eyeliner around her deep brown eyes and a lick of nude lipstick on her full lips. She pleated her long dark hair and pulled on a pair of favourite jeans and a brown
camisole top with a cashmere chocolate brown cardigan for the cooler start to the morning.

  She didn’t need much in the way of tools this morning. Her plan was to catalogue and map the garden as it existed. She hoped that she’d be able to save at least some of the original plants and trees and once she had decided what to save she could work on incorporating them into her garden design. She also wanted to find out if there were any old plans of the garden on the estate, eager to see what the garden had looked like in its glory days. She would need to work out how many assistants to employ and what machinery might be required.

  Today and probably most of the rest of the week ahead was going to be planning and cataloguing before the heavy work started.

  She put on her pair of old hiking boots - today would be spent walking and finding her way through the tangled forest of the garden. She would pick up a small machete at the garden stores on her way.

  She left the house, locking the door behind her, armed with a small leather shoulder folio case, stuffed with graph paper and pens. A brand new black Mercedes 4x4 sat outside the front of the house. On its windscreen was a bnnireen waig white silk bow.

  Tara held her breath, staring at the huge car.

  There was a card stuck under the bow. Exhaling, she broke from her trance and walked to the car and picked up the envelope.

  Good to see you back. X

  Tara had not heard the cars arrival last night. The car was unlocked and she climbed into the luxurious cream leather interior, and found the keys already in the ignition.

  ‘Good grief.’ Tara murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

  She held the leather bound steering wheel and pressed the starter button. The engine purred smoothly into life and Tara pressed the accelerator to hear the engine growl.

  She felt very uncomfortable and uneasy with this womderful gift. If Arlen had employed a man, would Xander Ashbrook have delivered a new Mercedes to his front door on his first day? Complete with silk bow? Surely not. Definitely not. Should she then accept this beautiful car?

  ‘Of course not.’ she said forcefully and switched the engine off.