Forfeit (Original Edit)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

While I waited for news from Tabitha, I registered with ludicrouslyexpensivewines.com and, six hundred pounds later, I pulled up at Dowson-Gunn Manor, otherwise known as Hawthwaite Hall, to hand over a bottle of 1990 Chateau Latour Pauillac. Marcus met me in the hallway where the Radio One DJ had held court and I'd danced for hours with Xander.

'Do you just crack this open, or do you have a ceremony and let it breathe for two days?' I waved the bottle, dying to know what the wine tasted like. 'So, you were right.'

'At least you honour your debts, tesoro.' Marcus stopped gazing lovingly at the label long enough to kiss my cheek. 'But if you think I'm cracking this open for you to get drunk on, you're very, very wrong. This is going in my collection.'

'Mental. At least my heels and handbags get to fulfil their purpose of being.'

'Come in, we're having drinks.'

Last July, DG Manor, had been stripped of its splendour but now, with a crystal chandelier the size of my new Discovery hanging in the centre of the double height ceiling, and a Jackson Pollock original on the wall, opulence wasn't the word.

The sun dropped behind the grey and orange mountains edging the lake as Marion, the housekeeper, took my coat, assuring me that my snow boots weren't even slightly dirty. Marcus led me to the large sitting room where India, in a white woollen shift, reclined on a vast burgundy velvet sofa.

'Daisy!' She jumped up and came striding over to bear hug me. 'The parents have flitted off to Prague so we're being badly behaved, smoking in the house like naughty teenagers. Marcus, pour her a glass, darling. We've got acres to catch up on.'

'I'm driving...' It was a feeble attempt.

'Stay the night,' she suggested and Marcus nodded. 'Tabitha's coming for dinner too.'

'Maybe just one.' No less feeble.

'It's been an age. Freya had a marvellous time at lunch before Christmas. You're all I heard about for a week. We really ought to have lunch next time I'm up.'

My ego soared. India Dowson-Gunn wanted to hang out with me. 'I was a little disappointed to find out Freya's father wasn't an unnamed rockstar.'

India threw back her head giving a throaty laugh. 'That was such fun back in the day. Have you heard, Marcus is in love?'

'Hot model?' I asked.

'Yes,' he admitted, 'but she's studying to be a doctor.'

On cue, his phone rang and, from his blushes and enormous smile, it had to be her. He'd finally found a kick-ass girl worth waiting for and I couldn't be happier. He left the room and India sat down, cross-legged, her eyes full of concern.

'Now, what the hell happened between you and Xander? The boys barely tell me anything.'

Comforted by her sympathy, the enormous sofa and a glass of Shiraz, I told her about the events since I'd seen her in October, even the bits that made me look bad.

'Now I know I love him but he's buggered off. He said we could've been perfect together. God, I hope we still can.'

She glanced at her hands, toying with a lighter. 'Last year at Oscar's, I might have spoken out of turn when I told you not to trust Xander. I doubted his motives but Marcus told me how Xander feels about you.'

'How he felt about me,' I corrected her.

'He's not going to have fallen out of love with you in a fortnight.'

'Can I ask, if you don't mind, but why doesn't Xander like you?'

'You can say hate.' She lit a cigarette and slumped back into the sofa. 'Basically, he's never forgiven me for having an affair with Robbie. A long time ago of course. Vanessa was pregnant with Lissie and Robbie was in Austria for the season. I have a chalet in Lech. Xander likes to believe I seduced Robbie. He doesn't want to believe his beloved brother would willingly cheat on the virtuous Vanessa.'