‘Day after his twenty-first birthday, aye. We’d tied one on the night before, make no mistake. Look at our eyes – like piss holes in the snow.’ He gave a quick bark of a laugh. ‘We had a lot of fun together, Sam and me.’ He sipped his tea thoughtfully. ‘His father was the master, just as Sam is now, and my dad the huntsman.’ He pointed to a black and white photo of two men in hunting coats, taken outside a manor house years ago. ‘This cottage was part of the Mulverton estate then. Not now, though.’ He smiled. ‘I bought it off him, didn’t I? Sam was grateful too, he’s that strapped for cash. Death duties hit that family hard,’ he said grimly.
‘Oh. I didn’t know.’
‘That’s why he went back to America, to make some dosh.’
I held my breath. Somehow I felt if I was quiet, I might hear more. I was aware there was a lot I didn’t know and wanted to. But Mark was a taciturn man, and eventually I had to prod.
‘You knew him when you were little?’
‘Oh yeah, Sam and I grew up together. Played every single day as kids, and then he went away to school. Boarding, you know. But we rode and drank in the pubs all holidays long when he was back, until he went to New York, that is. It was one of them relationships the liberal luvvies wouldn’t understand; too feudal for them. They wouldn’t get their anxious little brains round me being in hunt service and him being lord of the manor. But it worked. Still does. He’s a good man, Sam. One of the best. Too bad his wife pissed off with that Chad Armitage.’
I turned. Stared at him. ‘What?’
‘I said too bad his wife did a runner with his best friend. There, that’s her, see?’ He jabbed a finger at a photo, and I turned back as if in a trance. He pointed out the pretty girl in the dark glasses. Very short hair, an elfin cut. Of course, it was Hope. Smiling coolly, confidently at the camera, two hungover lads beside her grinning sheepishly. Her chin was raised, her weight on the back foot. I turned back to Mark.
‘Hope was Sam’s wife?’
‘Briefly, yes. They were all at Harvard together. Sam and Hope got married very young, not long after that photo was taken, in fact, then she fell for his best friend, Chad. He took that picture. Anyway, she divorced Sam and married him instead.’
‘But …’ I was flabbergasted. Tried to marshal my thoughts. ‘But they’re all such friends. They all live near each other, ride out together, hunt –’
‘Oh, it all happened years ago. Chad and Hope have been together for ages now, got two kids, and Sam didn’t want to lose Chad’s friendship. When he was in the States, Chad’s family was like his own. He stayed with them in the holidays – the Hamptons and all that. And he’s a nice guy, Chad. But that Hope. She reels him in occasionally, you know?’
‘Who – Sam?’
‘That’s it.’
My mind raced. ‘But – why come back here, then? Why be near her?’
‘Perhaps he needs to be.’ He gave me that steady look again. ‘The Armitages came over here first because of Chad’s work. Bought a house in London, then a weekend cottage out here, because of course Hope knew the area from her days with Sam; it was only natural. Then Sam announces he’s leaving London too, dismisses the tenants, and takes over the reins at the Hall again, something he said he’d never do. Funny that.’
‘Because he can’t bear to be away from her?’ I breathed.
Mark shrugged. ‘Who knows? Not my business.’ He winked. ‘You learn a lot on the hunting field, though. Surprised your mate Angie hasn’t told you all this, but then again, she probably doesn’t know. She wasn’t about in the old days, although she acts like she was born and bred in the saddle.’
I licked my lips. ‘How long were they married for?’
‘Only a couple of years.’
‘So … a bit like going out with someone, really?’
‘Except he loved her enough to put a ring on her finger. Commit the rest of his life to her. And Sam’s not a man to do anything lightly.’
‘No.’
I returned my gaze to the photo again. God, poor Sam. That laughing, carefree young man, with his childhood friend, Mark, and his American girlfriend, who he’d brought home, soon to be his wife, looking