One Chance At Love

‘I thought you also called me friend,’ Dizzy reminded her drily. ‘Although I’m beginning to wonder about that!’ she mocked.

‘My uncle doesn’t have to know that,’ Christi dismissed. ‘We can say you’re just an old school acquaintance of mine who happens to be—–’

‘Drifting through,’ Dizzy finished derisively.

‘Exactly,’ Christi said eagerly. ‘And of course I’m your friend,’ she defended indignantly. ‘Goodness, we know that none of that drivel is true. And, even if it were, it wouldn’t make any difference to those of us that love you. You’re the most generous, giving, totally unselfish—–’

‘Enough, enough,’ she drawled ruefully. ‘When do you want this drifting wastrel of an acquaintance to arrive on the castle doorstep, expecting another hand-out?’ she prompted drily.

‘Today,’ Christi pounced eagerly.

Dizzy had been expecting that, otherwise there would have been no need for this hasty call in what was, to her at least, still the middle of the night. ‘And who will take care of your food-stealing pets if I leave?’ she reminded lightly.

‘Lucas will come in from next door and do that,’ Christi dismissed. ‘They all love him, and he usually does it for me if I go away. And if you hate looking after the cats and dog so much, how come they are always completely spoilt after one of your visits? Last time you came to stay, Gladys and Josephine spent the next week sniffing my food cupboard, looking for your tins of pilchards. And I just bet Henry is sharing your bed right this minute!’ she announced disgustedly.

Dizzy looked down guiltily to the foot of the bed, where the Yorkshire terrier was curled up, asleep, on the quilt. ‘He gets lonely in the kitchen at night,’ she defended. ‘And he has such soulful brown eyes that I don’t have the heart to say no to him.’

‘A pair of soulful brown eyes and loneliness are not reasons to take him into bed with you! He—–Oh, damn, I think I heard someone coming.’ Christi lapsed back into that desperate whispering. ‘I’ll see you later, OK?’ she urged frantically, sounding more and more like a hounded animal.

The impression didn’t in the least endear the idea of going up to the Lake District to Dizzy, to show herself off as some lost cause just so that Zachariah Bennett could say to Christi, ‘Thank God you didn’t turn out like her, here’s your money and welcome to it’!

If it really were going to be as easy as that…

* * *

Dizzy had heard much about the beauty of the Lake District, and as her travels usually took her out of the country, rather than around it, this was the first time she had ever seen this lovely part of England.

But nothing she had heard about the Lake District had prepared her for the scenery before her now. No one had told her she could expect to see naked men, one naked man in particular, as he cavorted about in one of the smaller lakes!

As Christi had said, the man in the flat next door to hers had been only too happy to pet-sit Gladys, Josephine and Henry, and so the only hitch there could have been to her setting off for Castle Haven had neatly been removed.

In the clear light of day—after several more hours’ sleep—Dizzy was less sure than ever that Christi’s plan was a good one. It might work if Zachariah Bennett—the old curmudgeon!—could be made to believe she and Christi were just acquaintances, but the two of them had been friends since their first term together at boarding-school over twelve years ago. The familiarity of a friendship like that might be a little difficult to disguise. A telephone call to Christi to tell her just that had elicited the information that her friend had gone out for the morning with her uncle, and so, not knowing what else to do, Dizzy had set out for the castle. They would just have to hope for the best when she got there.

It had been a pleasant trip up on the train. She might be a free spirit, she thought, but she wasn’t stupid—it was no longer safe to hitch-hike, if it ever had been! Enquiries at the station, when she got off the train, had told her that the castle was about eight miles away and, after the long train journey, stretching her legs for a few miles sounded like a good idea.

The first six miles of her walk had been really enjoyable—the view of this lake was even more so!

She sat on top of one of the hills that surrounded the lake on all sides, unashamedly watching the sleek-bodied man as he cavorted about in the water like a dolphin. Even water-slicked, his hair was discernible as dark blond, with blond highlights that any woman would envy, but which were obviously perfectly natural on this man. From the deep tan of his body, he swam naked like this often. Old Zachariah Bennett would probably have a seizure if he could see the guest, who was going to soon turn up unexpectedly on his doorstep, watching the antics of this naked man. And enjoying it, too!

He really was a very handsome specimen, she thought admiringly as he stepped out of the water to dry off in the sun. He was tall and lithe, and from the look of him he either cut down trees or built roads for a living, for his muscles had been rippling powerfully. Or else he was just a secret weight-lifter. Whatever he was, a fusty scholar like Zachariah Bennett would probably recoil in horror at such virility: the man’s shoulders wide and strong, golden hair glinting on his bronzed chest, his stomach taut and flat, and his hips and thighs… Apollo himself couldn’t have looked better!

Dizzy reluctantly drew herself away from the beauty of the scene as the man stretched out in the sun to dry some more. No doubt he wouldn’t mind at all that she had been admiring him—he wouldn’t have been swimming in a lake where anyone could come along and see him if he did—but she really did have to be getting along to the castle now. It was a pity to spoil the moment, but time was quickly passing, and Christi’s thoughts were probably on the unmarked grave again by now!

But she didn’t forget the man as she walked the last two miles, whistling happily to herself, the day suddenly seeming full of new possibilities. Maybe the man was a local, maybe Christi would know who he was … But, of course, her friend had said she hadn’t met anyone else in the area. What a shame; it might have been interesting meeting the Greek god. It might have helped her irresponsible image along a little more, too, if she could have brought the local womaniser back to the castle to meet the professor.

Not that her image needed any help, she acknowledged ruefully as she glanced down at herself. Her denims were old and patched at the knees, the material faded in the usual places, her T-shirt just as old, but out of shape after numerous washes. She put a self-conscious hand up to the blonde bubbly curls that had escaped the long plait down her spine and that had helped give her her name, framing her small, heart-shaped face that was dominated by green, catlike eyes. Small, just over five feet, with breasts that were slightly too large for her body, and her fly-away blonde hair, she was the perfect ‘dizzy blonde’ image. No doubt she would be Zachariah Bennett’s most unusual house—castle—guest, to date!

Castle Haven proved to be exactly what Christi had claimed it was, a huge turreted castle that seemed totally out of place among the placid lakes and tree-covered hills and mountains that surrounded it on all sides.

Unlike Christi, however, Dizzy found the castle fascinating, and longed to know its history. But she supposed that would never do, not when she was supposed to be showing Zachariah Bennett just how wayward and uncaring the youth of today could be, and, in the process, what a shining example of responsibility his niece was. It would never do to let old Zach know she was probably as interested in history as he was!

The castle was a fitting home for him, as a historian of some repute—Dizzy knew him mainly from his books—and as she drew nearer Dizzy could see that on the outside, at least, it had been maintained in beautiful condition. Writing history books must pay very well! she thought.

The butler who opened the door several minutes after she had pulled the bell—hoping it was ringing somewhere in the depths of the castle—looked as if he might have been here doing this very same thing since the castle had originally been built! Snowy-haired, with an aloofness that was felt rather than physically visible in his thin body and blandly expressionless face, his disapproval of the ‘person’ standing at the huge heavy oak door he had swung open was a tangible thing. Maybe he was old Zachariah himself; probably what he earned as a historian didn’t run to a butler as well as a castle!

‘Hi!’ She gave him her brightest smile, easing her backpack on to one shoulder. ‘My name’s Dizzy James, and I—–’

‘The castle is not open to the public, Miss James,’ he informed her frostily.

She had been going to say ‘I’m a friend of Christi’s’, but his condescending attitude brought out the devil in her. ‘What a pity,’ she drawled. ‘I’m sure you would get thousands of people wanting to tramp all over the place if you decided to change your mind.’ She looked up at him innocently as he stiffened in shock at the suggestion.

His raised eyebrows and pursed lips showed his distaste. ‘Let me give you directions back to the main road,’ he said coldly. ‘You go back the way you just came, and then—–’

‘Oh, but I don’t want to go back to the main road!’ She smiled at him, her eyes gleaming like a cat’s.

‘This is private property, Miss James, and—–’

‘But I’m here to see Christi Bennett,’ she informed him happily.

‘Miss Christi?’ This time his guard was completely down, due to severe shock and horrified disbelief that ‘Miss Christi’ could even know such a person!

Obviously, he was the family butler, after all, and as she had only come here to shock Zachariah Bennett, not upset the whole household, she gave the man in front of her her most engaging smile. It had been known to melt frostier hearts than his, although not always, and never when she really willed it to. This time she was partially successful, although only grudgingly, as the butler slowly opened the door for her to come inside.

He nodded to her to wait where she stood, just inside the huge reception area. ‘I’ll go and tell Miss Christi that you’re here—–’

‘That won’t be necessary, Fredericks.’ Christi came bounding down the wide stairway like a whirlwind, her face flushed with excitement—the first she had known for some time, by the look of the shadows beneath her usually sparkling blue eyes. ‘Dizzy!’ she greeted thankfully, clasping her hands in hers before hugging her tightly.

She allowed Christi the indulgence for several seconds, realising her friend was under severe strain. But all the time she was aware of Fredericks as he watched them with distant curiosity, and so she finally whispered to Christi, ‘Acquaintances, remember?’

Christi stiffened at the reminder, her arms falling back to her sides as she stepped back reluctantly, forcing indifference into her expression. ‘That will be all, thank you, Fredericks,’ she said, turning to the butler. ‘Dizzy, how nice to see you again!’ Her words were the insincerely polite ones of a host having an unwanted guest foisted upon them, although her eyes were dancing with mischief as she looked at Dizzy.

Easily one of the most beautiful women Dizzy had ever seen, with glorious ebony hair and huge blue eyes, and a model-girl figure, Christi wasn’t in the least conceited about her looks, but felt them merely to be her stock-in-trade for the career she had chosen for herself. She had even been warned that being too beautiful could hinder her career, rather than help it, if she was serious about becoming an actress of any repute.

The two women stood grinning at each other once they were alone in the high-ceilinged entrance hall, their breathing echoing hollowly against the grey stone.

‘I thought you weren’t coming.’ Christi finally sighed her relief that she had been proved wrong.

Dizzy’s smile widened. ‘I needed a little time to wake up,’ she teased, reminding her friend of the earliness of her call. ‘Besides, how could I let down the person who probably stopped me being put in jail—at least overnight?’ she mocked, thinking of her friend’s efforts of bribery and corruption.

Christi looked embarrassed. ‘I only—–’

‘What’s going on here?’

Dizzy didn’t need the confirmation of her friend’s suddenly guiltily apprehensive expression to guess that the man who had silently entered the hall through another door was fusty, dusty Zachariah Bennett. He spoke quietly, but nevertheless with a complete assurance that he was entitled to the explanation he demanded. If he had come in on the conversation soon enough to overhear her reference to almost being put in jail, then that wasn’t so surprising!

‘Uncle Zach.’ Christi quickly regained control, crossing to the man as he stood slightly in the shadows beneath the stairway, the door he had used just behind him, probably belonging to the kitchen or cellar, Dizzy thought. ‘I asked you if an old school acquaintance of mine could come to stay,’ Christi reminded lightly.

Dizzy turned to look at her; she had told her uncle of her visit? What had happened to the ‘old acquaintance’ who had just happened to be ‘drifting’ through, had ‘heard Christi was in the area and decided to pay her a call’?