Snowbound With The Heir. Sophie Pembroke
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that, Vicky.’
There it was. That not so subtle reminder of why she’d left. Well, no. Why she’d never come back.
She couldn’t bear to look at this place without Tyler in it. Couldn’t take the pain and the grief—and most of all the pity. Pity from people who should be hating her, blaming her, and only didn’t because she was too cowardly to tell them the whole truth.
Only now it seemed she had no choice but to be there.
‘That was my fault,’ Jasper jumped in. ‘Tori—Vicky—tried to tell me to stick to the main roads, but I didn’t listen. Always thinking I know best, that’s my problem.’
He sounded so sincere, so disarmingly charming, that Tori could see Aunt Liz melting in front of her. Did he really believe that about himself? She doubted it. But he had at least taken the heat off her, which she appreciated. And it was worlds better than his first attempt at an apology outside in the snow.
‘Well, I hope you’ll know better next time,’ Aunt Liz said, as if she were letting a small child off the hook for something.
‘Definitely,’ Jasper agreed, nodding. ‘Now, I don’t suppose you have any of that steak and ale pie you’re famous for around here somewhere?’
Tori rolled her eyes. Thinking with his stomach. Why wasn’t she surprised?
‘Or perhaps we can help you get everyone here settled and sorted?’ she suggested. ‘I mean, unless you’ve changed things a lot around here I can probably still locate enough blankets and pillows for everyone.’ The Moorside only had a handful of bedrooms it hired out for guests, so people were definitely going to have to share. But if they set up a dormitory sort of arrangement in the restaurant part of the inn, there should just about be enough room for everyone. They’d done it before, Tori remembered vividly, on nights like tonight when the roads were closed by weather or accidents and people got stranded. Including, once, the national rugby team during a particularly violent storm, when their bus had broken down. If they’d all fitted in snugly, so would tonight’s guests.
‘And Jasper here can help Uncle Henry in the kitchens,’ Tori added. ‘Since he’s so concerned about the menu tonight.’
Of course, her altruistic plan also meant she could escape from close quarters with her family and her colleague, something she was sure they’d both noticed. Tori didn’t care. She needed some space—and that, she knew, was hard to come by in the community-spirited world of the Moorside Inn.
‘That would be very helpful,’ Aunt Liz said carefully. ‘Although you’re here tonight as a guest…’
Tori shook her head. She’d never be a guest at the Moorside. It was too much a part of her. ‘I want to help. And so does Jasper.’ She nudged him with her elbow until he nodded.
‘In that case, if you could set up the dormitory in the restaurant, like we did that time they closed the roads and we had the—’
‘England rugby team staying,’ Tori said along with her. ‘Absolutely.’
As she turned away to go and find blankets and pillows, she could hear Jasper talking as Aunt Liz showed him to the kitchens. ‘The England rugby team? Now, that I want to hear more about…’
Tori stepped through to the empty restaurant and breathed in the silence. Perfect.
This was going to be a very long night. She could feel it. And she needed a little personal space before she faced it.
Especially before she had to talk to Uncle Henry.
Tori’s Aunt Liz led Jasper through the mass of people gathered in the main bar, behind the bar itself, and through a door that took them along a narrow passageway and down a short set of stairs into the kitchens. Jasper took in everything as they walked, especially the dramatic paintings that lined the walls—all slashes of dark greens and browns and purples, showcasing the landscape of the moors at its most impressive.
This place felt almost a part of the landscape itself, he realised. As if it had been here as long as the rocks and rises.
He ached to know what could have driven Tori away from it. What secrets she was hiding behind those emotional battlements.
Were they as all-consuming as his own?
And another, niggling question that had been at the back of his mind for five long years, before emerging for re-examination tonight: Did she already know his secrets? She and Felix had always been friendly, far more than she had been with him. Felix had known. Had he told her?
Jasper had to admit to himself that it seemed unlikely. But Tori was good at keeping secrets, that much was obvious. If she did know about Felix, Jasper was sure she was very capable of keeping it from everyone—including him.
‘Henry?’ Liz called out as they entered the kitchens. ‘Brought you some help.’
A large, grey-haired man, broad at the shoulder and his head almost grazing the lower of the ceiling beams, ducked out from a side room that, from what Jasper could see, appeared to be full of freezers and fridges. He was wiping his hands on a clean tea towel.
‘Help? Think I’m too old and slow to do this on my own?’ He smiled as he said it, though, so Jasper was almost sure it was a joke.
‘Not me.’ Liz jerked her red curls in Jasper’s direction. ‘He arrived with Vicky. She thought he might be able to give you a hand down here.’
Henry stilled, the tea towel taut between his hands, his white knuckles giving away his reaction to Liz’s news even though his expression didn’t change. ‘Vicky’s here?’ The words were barely more than a whisper.
‘We, uh, got caught up in a road closure on the moors,’ Jasper explained. ‘A crash behind us and a chance of the snow bringing down rocks on the valley ahead.’
‘I know the place.’ Henry’s words were clipped. ‘Police direct you here with all the others, did they?’
‘That’s right.’
Henry sighed. ‘Too much to think she’d come back of her own accord, I suppose. So, what are you, then? Fiancé? Boyfriend?’
‘Colleague,’ Jasper corrected him quickly. He could just imagine Tori’s face if he let her family believe there was anything more between them.
However much he might enjoy remembering the night when there was.
‘Humph.’ Henry sounded faintly disbelieving. Oh, well, that was Tori’s problem. He’d told the truth. She hadn’t told him anything.
‘So, what can I do around here? Tori’s setting up beds somewhere, I guess.’
‘Tori, is it?’ Henry asked. ‘Well. You can help me pack up these ploughman’s boxes for our unexpected guests. Each one gets one of each of the things set out on the table. Should be simple enough.’ The words ‘even for you’ were unspoken, but Jasper couldn’t help but hear them anyway. He got the feeling that, arriving in Tori’s company, there was nothing he could have done to make a good impression on her uncle.
But that wasn’t going to stop him trying, all the same. After all, how else was he going to uncover some of those secrets Tori was still hiding? If there was even a chance she knew his—and even if she didn’t yet, she would soon if his father got his way—he wanted to know some of hers too. That was only fair, right?
‘I’m sure I can,’ he said with a grin, and picked up the first of the plastic boxes and started work.
Each ploughman’s box got a hunk of bread, some cheese, a thick slice of ham, a small pot of chutney, an apple and some celery.
‘I’ve got a giant pot of soup heating too,’ Henry explained. ‘We can take