One Summer in Cornwall

early forties he’d guess, beautiful, outrageous, and used to wrapping men around her little finger, but he had a firm rule to never get involved with a client or a member of their family. However, the more Marcus kept his distance, the more outrageous Estelle became. He wouldn’t be surprised if one week she didn’t walk into the room Felicity had set aside for him to use completely naked and offer to pose for him! Male artists often had an unfair reputation of being womanisers, when the truth was, it was often the clients who did the chasing – there was something about an artist they seemed to find irresistible. He had the same rule about getting involved with holidaymakers. He’d only broken that rule once, and that had been a big mistake that he would never repeat.

He changed into a T-shirt and jeans, grabbed his phone and a bottle of water, and set off. His painting materials were already in his van.

Thomwell Manor was a beautiful old house surrounded by colourful, well-looked-after gardens. Marcus knew that Felicity and Rupert Thomwell often entertained, and ran many high-profile charity events, and he had been delighted when she had approached him to do a special painting for Lord Rupert’s sixty-fifth birthday. Marcus had spent hours on the painting – usually on Sunday afternoons when Lord Rupert was out golfing – but really needed to make more progress as it was Lord Rupert’s birthday in two weeks’ time. Marcus would miss coming to the Manor, it was beautiful and peaceful, and Lady Felicity kept him supplied with snacks and drinks, whilst Estelle was entertaining company. She was tempting too, if he was honest, but even though he was single and could do what he liked, she wasn’t tempting enough to risk all the trouble a relationship with her would bring. And to be honest, apart from the obvious, she wasn’t the kind of woman he was attracted to.

Whereas Hattie . . .

He shut the thought down right away. Hattie might not be as selfish as he’d first thought her to be, and was undeniably gorgeous, but she wasn’t the sort of girl he’d get involved with either. He’d bet high odds that she’d have the cottage on the market within a month. She was definitely not a little-seaside-town girl.

Pushing all thoughts of Hattie out of his mind, he set up his easel outside and got to work, and was soon absorbed in recreating the house in front of him in oils on the paper. It was coming on well, he’d be adding the two women to the painting soon, their position on the lawn already pencilled in.

‘Fancy a drink?’

He turned to see Estelle, clad in the skimpiest of bikinis, holding out an enticing-looking cocktail. ‘Don’t worry, it’s a mocktail. I know you don’t drink alcohol when you’re working. Which is a bit boring, if you ask me. I thought artists were all a bit wild and spent most of their time out of their head.’

‘We wouldn’t get much painting done, if we did,’ he told her wryly. He put the palette and brush down and took the ice-cold drink off her. ‘Thanks.’

‘It looks good,’ she told him. ‘You’re very talented.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I was hoping you might do me a favour.’ She sipped her drink slowly through her straw, her eyes meeting his. ‘Don’t look so worried, you’ll enjoy it. I promise.’

Chapter Eight

Hattie spent the morning cleaning up Uncle Albert’s bedroom ready for Mali and Lou to sleep in when they came down the day after tomorrow, then made herself a sandwich for lunch, got changed and went to Gwel Teg to meet Ellie and Reece.

She’d been a bit nervous about meeting them, but she needn’t have worried – they were both very warm and friendly and loved the photographs that she showed them.

‘We want our wedding to be relaxed and informal. That’s why we are having it here, at Gwel Teg,’ Ellie said. ‘I’ll feel like my dad is watching over me here, as if he’s part of it too.’

‘Your dad died here?’ Hattie asked softly. Ellie didn’t seem much older than herself; her dad must have died young.

‘Yes, just over four years ago,’ Ellie told her. ‘It was totally unexpected, a heart attack.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Hattie wasn’t particularly close to her dad but she would hate it if he died. Maybe I should make more of an effort with my dad, she thought. He seemed to be trying harder to keep in touch with her now, phoning her quite regularly since they’d learnt the contents of Uncle Albert’s will, but still Hattie kept it short, never discussing anything personal.

Reece left Ellie to discuss the photos with Hattie whilst he checked on various things to do with the hotel. ‘Whatever Ellie wants is fine with me,’ he said.

‘Let me take you around first, show you the room where the ceremony and reception are taking place, and the grounds where we want the photos taken,’ Ellie suggested.

‘That would be really helpful, thank you.’

Ellie led her down a hallway to the back of the hotel. ‘We had an extension built last year so that we could host weddings and business conferences,’ she said. ‘It was Reece’s idea, and it’s proved really successful.’ Ellie pushed open some double doors and they both stepped into a long dining room, with a wooden tiled floor and large windows that let in a lot of light. There was a stage to the left immediately as they walked in, and on the far side were some chairs and a table stacked against the wall.

Hattie followed Ellie through the folding doors in the middle of the room. ‘We close these doors to make the area for the wedding ceremony smaller, more personal, and then after the ceremony the doors are opened to give more space for the reception and evening entertainment.’ Ellie closed the doors behind them to illustrate.

Hattie’s gaze flitted around the now-smaller room, then over to the closed