A Change of Heart

'He wants to tell me to fuck off? The fucking cheek of him. He's one pain in the ass and I don't care who he is I won't be treated like this.'

She sniffed loudly, struggling to stem her tears but in the situation she was in she had no option but to accept his offer so she grabbed the key from his fingers, just too angry and upset to do anything else.

"Your hospitality is quite special. You should try bottling it and selling it to other guests and see how far you get. I'll run my own bath thank you very much."

She turned and gathered her skirts, now hating the dress and wanting only to be alone, but she couldn't resist one last parting shot and, having taken the first couple of stairs, she turned and looked back over the banister at him.

"Tea and toast on brown bread. I suppose it's pointless to ask if you have an aspirin you might let me have? So I won't ask in case you tell me to fuck off again."

She stomped up the stairs not really knowing where she was going, looking left and right along the corridor until she saw that the rooms were numbered so she checked her key and followed the numbers. Although she hated admitting it to herself the little old building had a rather captivating charm. Modern structures just didn't have the warmth of centuries of stories and the shadows of the many families that had made this building their home. Dark beams, sloping ceilings, and charming polished floors with hand woven rugs scattered along for comfort and warmth. All told it was very welcoming, unlike the oaf down stairs.

She found the room and opened the door and without looking back went in, closing the door behind her and leant against it, exhaustion, anger and fear washing over her. As much as she disliked the man Bill, he'd kept the essence of the building to perfection with the antique furnishings nestled in soft colours. The bed thank God was magnificent with an ornate cast iron bed head resting against the wall and the standard of thought put into the detail was rather surprising, and she concluded there must be a 'Mrs Bill' tucked away somewhere for she couldn't bring herself to believe that he had taste like this. She laughed to herself at the thought. 'Bless her. He's probably got her out ploughing fields with my Bovril.'

She pulled her dress off and threw it in a heap on the floor. The corset, suspenders and panties made her feel ridiculous but she decided to leave them on until she had the bath filled. Thankfully hot water was plentiful and she went back to the bedroom and tested the bed, climbing into the middle, kneeling there and looking out of the window over the rolling fields and all her childhood memories came flooding back but she had to remind herself that he, Bill or whatever his name was, had only offered the room for one night so she'd need to hire a car and perhaps find a cottage rather than a hotel so that she could spend a little time alone deciding where her future lay.

Bill smiled to himself. The girl had reserves of anger and bile that would make a cornered badger look meek by comparison. Still, she'd had a pretty shitty day, not just the drive up here but also whatever led her to travel in her wedding gown. He went to the kitchen, heated some milk in a pan and toasted some bread; if she hadn't eaten anything all day at least she'll feel better for some food.

As an afterthought he added a slice of cake and a couple of chocolates.

The truth of it was she was lucky that he had the room. He had been expecting someone, a woman he'd been dating, but all he got was a txt message:

"Don't think we're such a good idea after all. Sorry. Good luck x"

Well, that's the way relationships crumble today -- no tearful partings, just a txt saying goodbye.

He carried the tray up to the room and knocked on the door. There was no reply so he pushed the door open.

She was kneeling on the bed looking out of the window wearing just a corset, suspenders and panties. Now she was free from the dress he could see what a very attractive woman she was, perhaps twenty-eight or twenty-nine, tallish and with lovely curves -- womanly, not too skinny, and the way she was kneeling revealed what a beautiful bottom she had -- very spankable.

He coughed quietly.

"Ah, excuse me, but I have your hot chocolate and some toast for you."

Unbelievably he found himself poised to duck in case the threw anything again.

"I'll put it here on the table for you. If you need anything else you'll have to come down to the front desk and ring the bell there. There's no one to pick up the phone. Goodnight."

And with that he left, closing the door behind him.

Gracie hadn't even heard the door open and she wasn't too sure where to look given her state of dress so she waited saying nothing until she heard the door close.

She'd wanted tea but he at least had refrained from swearing at her she thought. She could smell the warm chocolaty smell and granted a begrudging preference for it. Comfort food was what she needed, comfort food and a cuddle but she wasn't going to get that from him, nor would she accept one if he offered. Fucking farmer.

She looked to see what he'd brought for her and she began to cry. Toast and butter, a mug of steaming hot chocolate, chocolate gateaux, sweets and life-saving paracetamol.

How could he be so bloody awful one moment and yet so kind in another? The tray was just perfect and she took a couple of paracetamols and then ate, realising with the first buttery mouthful of toast how hungry she was.

She looked around the room again.

The heating was on, the room was warm and she walked around sipping the hot chocolate glad of the sweetness. There was TV with dozens of channels and a small music system with Bluetooth connection. Flicking through the stations she found one playing mood music and a song that she'd heard in the past and had thought sad but beautiful was playing. It seemed rather apt and she sat listening nibbling on a piece of toast. Her father had never shown her much affection, she had a nanny for that, and there was rarely a moment when she felt he really even noticed she was there unless it was when she was being displayed like a brood mare at a dinner party. And her mother, while she was the warmer of her parents, still wasn't exactly the stuff Hallmark based their ''Mother's Day'' cards on.

She lost track of time and only when she lay back sucking the chocolate off the last sweet did she notice that she'd eaten everything. She still wanted some ice cream though and thought she could even put up with the company of that creature down stairs for a few scoops. Even arguing with him, he'd be better than thinking. Tomorrow she'd ring home and face the music so to speak but she certainly wasn't going to tell them where she was, just let them know that she was safe but then the thought crossed her mind that would be the last thing they would be thinking about but it was the right thing to do. Then she remembered the bath. The water was still warm enough so she took off her corset, panties and suspenders and lay back in the water, letting her mind drift, wondering which unfortunate bridesmaid Charles had persuaded to accompany him to the Bahamas and what, by now, she'd be putting up with. She almost laughed at the thought. It wasn't even as if Charles was an accomplished lover. Poor girl, lucky me, but she didn't feel very lucky at the moment, just bone tired so she wrapped herself in a bath towel and climbed into bed, wondering what tomorrow would bring, hopefully she'd get a car sorted in the morning and see what Mr. Gallant down stairs had in his discards box of clothes that would do until she got some new clothes of her own.

~~~

She was woken by the sun streaming through a gap in the curtains and she rubbed her eyes into wakefulness.

The sky was an orange red that she'd never seen in London and rarely when she was on her family's estate and she gazed in awe at the beauty of it and the mountainous landscape but it promised a change in the weather.

She'd slept all night without stirring and felt so much better but she was simply starving again. She put it down to a combination of the country air and relief. It had been weeks since she'd eaten properly, no regular meals, just snacks and nibbles. The stress and doubt that had been building in her mind prior to the wedding had killed her appetite but now, even in her precarious circumstances, she was hungry

She'd left the radio playing softly all night and now she could hear the 6am news so she turned it up. Politics, the economy, some international news, sports and then "And finally, yesterday's society wedding of the year was cancelled when the bride, Grace Elle Louise Granthom-Wesley, disappeared before the ceremony started, leaving her fiancé The Honourable Captain Charles Montgomery standing at the altar. The groom was described as being very distressed. Both families are expected to make a statement later today."

Gracie snorted with contempt. Charles distressed? She'd personally pay to see him crack a smile without the benefit of a camera to impress. She turned off the gamut of distasteful comments being passed about the spoiled rich bitch, had a shower and then, bundled in a huge over-sized towelling robe she wondered what she should do about some clothes so although it was early, and unlikely that anyone would be around, she decided on taking the chance of not been seen by anyone and made her way to the desk in the hall and rang the bell as Bill had instructed last night when he'd brought her tray to her room. She felt very vulnerable standing bare-footed with wet hair so called out a couple of times but there was no response so she decided to find the kitchen and make herself a cup of tea.

~~~

Bill had heard her calling as he walked down the hill towards the hotel and he glanced up at the sky to gauge the time. About 6.30 he guessed. 'Well at least she doesn't lie around all day like a lazy teenager' he thought. In the back porch he kicked off his boots and hung his working jacket on the back of the door.

Even though the shepherd would have been up earlier than him, he always liked to have a walk in the mornings, rain or shine, and the morning was particularly fine although the red sky in the east suggested that it would be raining before too long.

"Hello." He found her in the kitchen making tea. Well that was a good sign. At least she wasn't up in the room banging on the floor for someone to make the tea for her. He decided to take a risk, try to be pleasant, and see how she responded.

"Hello, you're up bright and early. I thought that you'd sleep longer."

He washed his hands and face at the sink and turned to her as he dried himself.

"I've been out with Jessie. We always like to take a walk in the mornings when we're up. Would you like breakfast? I have bacon, eggs, toast, brown or white, could do porridge and of course cornflakes and so on."

He smiled at her. Even just out of bed she was as pretty as he remembered from last night but he hoped that she would be less prickly. He turned on the radio.

"Always like to get the news in the morning just in case we've finally been cast adrift from the rest of the country."

Gracie's ears pricked up at the name Jessie. She'd been right, there was a Mrs Bill and the brute had her up before dawn walking in the fields, probably giving her the run-down of what he expected to be done for the day. He of course would sit lording it over the hotel while his poor wife was doing the duties of a farmer's wife. Typical of the kind of man she suspected him to be. A bully, a blagard, and a....... but then his offer of a cooked breakfast stopped her in her tracks.

Her stomach was in charge now.

"Ohhhh bacon and eggs would be lovely please. Thank you."

In the background she could hear the radio announcing the news.

The volume wasn't a problem, the content of the news though would be and she begin backing towards the door dearly wishing to be out of the room when the headlines would once again begin but just as she got to the door the morning news began with the cheery voice of their society editor.

"Amidst all the political upheavals this morning, one family wakens to head-lines in all the papers about the wedding that never was. Society brat, Gracie Granthom-Wesley, after a two-year relationship with The Honourable Charles Montgomery, decided on her way to the church that she wanted to continue her partying without the added weight of a husband. Her parents have made no comment to date and close friends of the couple are consoling Montgomery in his Chelsea home. Gracie, or rather, disGraced is believed to have left the country on the arm of her personal trainer."

The story went on to list the names of some of the well-known people that had been on the guest list and read some of the headlines on her behaviour, dishonourable, disgraced, a party girl, and a cheat.

She couldn't help herself.

"How dare they? Oh my God, those liars."

She looked at Bill shaking her head and blushing bright red.

"How could they? Gossips, horrible people. That poor girl probably just realized at the last minute she was about to make a horrid mistake. God they must be short of news to be making that rubbish up."

She rushed out of the kitchen to the hall and looked at the phone on the desk and without asking, took the phone and huddled down behind the counter where she hoped he wouldn't look. She dialled her parent's number but it just rang and rang, no one answering, and she knew that the staff had been instructed not to answer any calls in case it was the press so she waited until the ansa message came on and she told them she was safe, that she was sorry for the upset and hoped they were alright. She also assured them that there wasn't, nor ever would be, a personal trainer. She was on her own, safe and just collecting her thoughts and she'd be in touch again in a few days' time. She added that she would be considering suing the gutter press for libel and slander if the nonsense continued.

She hung up and debated going back to her room but she had nothing to wear and couldn't very well continue going around nude beneath the robe and her grumbling stomach and the smell of cooking bacon made the decision for her so she made her way back to the kitchen, trying to cover her engagement ring with the sleeve of the robe she was wearing.

"Might I ask please, if I could borrow a sweater and some jeans or something after breakfast and possibly a phone number of a local car hire? I'll go away then, perhaps find a little holiday house that's free at the moment. So ... well ... and if you have a phone number for a local auctioneer or jewellers, that would be very helpful too."

She knew she'd said too much but she was madder than hell and fed up with being bullied, bullied into seeing men that she didn't like and then bullied into being convinced that Charles was perfect and now bullied by the press with lies and the man in front of her had bullied her yesterday. She was starting to think that it was all her fault, that there must be something terribly wrong with her. She looked and felt totally useless but at least if she could find a jewellers she could sell her engagement ring for some cash.

"I'm sorry. I know you don't think much of me. The truth be told I'm not too fond of myself right now either. I'm her, on the radio, the runaway bride, but I didn't run off with anyone and I didn't leave a heart broken man at the altar, just a very proud one with a king-sized ego whose pride might be a bit dented. Look, I'll go to my room and wait until you want me down here again and then I'll leave as soon as I can."

'I'm sorry'. Well that was a word Bill wasn't expecting. Perhaps after all she was just building a wall around herself for protection. He guessed that she'd not be wanting to be back in the celebrity spotlight for a while though.

'Montgomery?' He thought. He knew of a Captain Montgomery from his army days but he was seen as pretty useless, some family connection to The Guards so the story went.

He pulled a chair out and pointed to it.

"Here sit down. If you want to you can tell me all about it and if not then don't." He switched the radio to Classic FM.

"One or two eggs?"

He didn't wait for an answer and whistled tunelessly as he cooked. He could actually sing and whistle very well but didn't want to spoil the image all at once.

"After breakfast I'll sort out something for you to wear. Not very glamorous I'm afraid but the nearest decent clothes shop is in Kendall and that's more country wear than haut couture."

He knew that he was talking for the sake of it but now that he knew what she's been through he was feeling just a little more sympathetic towards her.

"Once we have you dressed I'll introduce you to Jessie. She's always keen to meet new people. Very friendly."

In all of this he had deliberately ignored her request for a taxi or a holiday home. He could offer the cottage to her but thought he'd save that offer until later. For now, in a curious sort of way, he was enjoying having her here but perhaps that was just him on the rebound from being dumped by txt message.

It had hurt.

He put the plate of food in front of her.

"Red sauce or brown?"

Gracie watched him as he cooked breakfast for them both. She knew it was kindness for kindness' sake with no ulterior motives behind it, just him being kind, but after yesterday he had a lot of ground to make up. Any other time when someone was nice to her, it usually consisted of being asked to part with money or a favour.

She only had two real friends, Annabelle and Jenny. She'd met both of them at university, both of them what she had been brought up to view as working class people but all the same, both as solid as anyone you could hope to find, with no side to them at all. She felt guilty twice over now. They should have been her bridesmaids, not just guests, and she should have called them. If anyone was worried, it would be the two of them. Anyone else that called themselves her friend are the ones now, this morning, feeding the tabloids and distancing themselves from her as fast as they could. At least until the next poor idiot had their name all over the front pages.

She hadn't been paying attention, lost in her thoughts, and knew that he'd been talking while he cooked, but she caught 'Jessie' amongst the rest of what he'd said and she really wasn't interested at the moment in meeting his wife who was out working while he chatted to her.

She sighed and nodded politely while looking down at her hands in her lap.

There, her five-caret diamond engagement ring sparkled as testament to the price families were prepared to pay for the right coupling. There was no other word for it. It wasn't about love or any other romantic notion. It was about dynasty and money. She and Charles had money, they were from the right strata of society and so their offspring would continue the process of cementing money and families.

She was, in effect, a money reproduction machine and so long as her offspring -- she hesitated to call them children -- could be shown to be the produce of her and Charles then she was free to sleep with whoever took her fancy, so long as she didn't get pregnant and even then, a private abortion clinic would ensure the purity of the line.

But now she was thinking about Jessie. Poor woman, out working on the farm at all hours and she likes to meet strangers? Lord, she's probably sitting on a tractor somewhere thinking she's in heaven because her doting husband is about to sit down and fill his gut with breakfast, while she's toiling on the land.

"Red sauce or brown?"

His question jolted her back to the present.

The plate looked like it was dripping gold and diamonds and she actually had to wrap the rope tie of the robe around her ring finger to hide the engagement ring while she tucked into her breakfast.