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“Champagne?” he suggested. “Or join me in a scotch?”
She threw him a look of, ‘if only’ and then smiled at Benson. “A mineral water would be lovely. It’s so warm out.”
“Aye, we’re in the middle of a heatwave. But the pool is clean and ready—got it all set up for you, sir.”
“Please, Benson, call me Hamish, for God’s sake.”
“That will be all, Benson.” Eleanor’s voice now was sharp.
Tia furrowed her brow.
Hamish forestalled the other man from leaving though. “Would you mind seeing if the cook can rustle up some sandwiches as well?”
“Of course.” He nodded, then grinned. “Great to see you back.”
No wonder Benson was glad Hamish had returned. His presence was like a breath of sweet, fresh air compared to the stiltedness of the others.
“America has changed you,” his mother said, and the words were unmistakably disapproving. Tia had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t just referring to the place, but also the people. And in particular, Tia.
“He’s always had an egalitarian spirit,” Tia said, knowingly pushing into Eleanor’s criticism. “It’s one of the things I love about him.”
Eleanor’s smile was tighter than a drum. “Please, sit down.” The words were barely enunciated, her lips were held so firm.
Tia dipped her head forward to hide a smile but she heard Hamish’s soft laugh.
“So, you sell houses, dear?” Eleanor asked, once she was settled in a floral armchair, sitting as though a royal portrait were about to be taken, with her knees pressed together and one foot behind the other ankle, hands clasped in her lap.
Once was a mistake. Twice was intentional. And it wasn’t as though she was wrong. Tia did still sell properties, but only the absolute crème de la crème. Mostly she pitched for projects and picked up new high-end clients.
Tia sat in an armchair and to her surprise, Hamish didn’t take the other. Instead, he sat on the curved arm of her chair, one arm draped casually along the top, his fingers pressed lightly to her shoulder. Shivers ran through her body.
“Where’s the Earl?” Hamish asked, voice casual.
“He wasn’t expecting you yet,” Eleanor said, with consternation. “He shouldn’t be much longer.”
Silence. It crackled in a way that made her nerves stretch but Eleanor’s expression was unreadable and Hamish’s fingers continued their slow, steady exploration without missing a beat. Invisible circles, figures of eight, zig zags like lightning. She could feel every single movement as though he was leaving marks on her skin. Invisible tattoos she’d never be able to remove.
Benson returned with a tray, placing the drinks down on the low-set coffee table then pouring a tea for Eleanor before departing wordlessly. Though he did wink encouragingly in Tia’s direction before leaving.
Hamish shifted only to reach for the mineral water and hand it to Tia. She took it gratefully, wondering why she still felt a burst of electricity when their fingers touched in such an innocuous manner. He sat back beside her, arm resuming its position.
“Darling, there are two other chairs, you know,” Eleanor said, her voice showing exasperation.
“My eyes work fine.”
“You could avail yourself of one.”
“My brain does, too.”
Eleanor compressed her lips. “Have you come back to irritate me?”
Hamish laughed then. “No. But I suppose it’s a silver lining.”
Tia glanced up at him, frowning. She hadn’t expected such open hostilities. Only, as she looked at him, his face softened, affection shifting through his features. “How do you feel?”
Eleanor glanced toward the window, her features dropping their mask, too, showing a whole host of things Tia could barely decipher. “I don’t want to be treated like an invalid,” she muttered. “Everyone is tiptoeing around me as though I have one foot in the grave. Cressida can’t stop weeping,” and then, she looked almost apologetically at Tia. “They’ve insisted on staying here since we found out. Your father tried to clear them off for the weekend, but they refused to leave, even once they knew you were returning, and that you wouldn’t be alone.”
Hamish expelled a breath.
