Every Bookshop Needs a Cat (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 2)

Lady Bjornsson

2/2 <3

K. xx

***

Anya wrapped her disobedient, ice-cold fingers around a mug of hot chocolate. She had her mobile on the table next to her plate with salmon tartin, and she wouldn't stop glancing at the screen. Their waiter noticed and gave her a judgmental look.

"I've decided to come back to Nidhogg," Amira announced unemotionally, and Anya's gaze flew up from the phone.

"As Mr. Bjornsson's assistant?" she asked gingerly.

Amira took a sip of her filter coffee. "Not exactly. He's been trying to get me to return this whole time, and his latest offer was the position of the head of the Bjornsson Fund. De facto, I've been running it for years," she added defensively. "There are things that Anders is good at, but paperwork isn't one of them." She scoffed. "I'll be resuming my work - and only work," Amira added pointedly. "I've already been looking for a place in Fleckney."

Anya hid behind her bevvie, not sure what to say.

"I'm not bitter, and it's not something we need to avoid talking about," Amira continued. "I knew from the beginning what I was getting myself into. I was nineteen the first time I visited the county, and I fell in love with it, with the Hall specifically. My sister was in a film they were making in Nidhogg. Her name is Antonia Okenedo, have you heard of her?"

Anya confirmed that she did.

"I returned to London, got my degree in hospitality, and convinced Anders Bjornsson that he needed a right hand, and that no one would do the job better than me." Amira took another sip. "I used every bit of influence I had and every possible reference I could get, including the Holyoakes. Antonia was dating one of them at the time, and she's still close friends with John Holyoake, the publishing mogul. The Bjornsson fund is my dream job, Anna. I shouldn't have mixed the personal with the professional." She sighed. "Did you know that Sir Niklas' parents had the same age gap? He was almost forty years older than her."

Anya stared at Amira in shock. "I didn't."

"His younger brother, Oscar, was married to Mable Holyoake, the late Lady Bjornsson's mother. There was only a year difference between Peder and Oscar, and yes, Cecile Bjornsson married her step-uncle."

Anya tried to reconcile this information with what she knew of Klaus' childhood. It truly added another layer of unpleasant tension and drama to the whole story.

"I'm only a few months younger than Klaus," Anya muttered.

"I have misjudged him," Amira said and sighed again. "I will apologise to him when we see each other next time. And I suspect there might be a queue, right? Considering that Semra Holyoake has been quite vocal about what actually happened all those years ago."

"A few people from Fleckney have called or visited," Anya answered flatly, unwilling to go into details.

"There will be more," Amira said with a shrug. "Once the gossip mill starts working."

"Maybe they shouldn't have judged him, to start with, since no one actually had known what had happened then," Anya grumbled.

"But you have to admit, it looked rather convincing: Sir Niklas seemed exactly the type of a posh young man - rich, entitled, popular - whom one could easily despise and envy. And exactly the kind of a brainless toff who'd crash his luxury car into a tree." Amira seemed to have guessed the anger that rose in Anya. "Oh, don't get me wrong," Amira said with a smirk, "once one gets to know him, it becomes blatantly obvious that he's too anal retentive to drive above the speed limit, or to indulge in any sort of a risky behaviour. Even his drinking was rather dull. No antisocial behaviours, no scandals. I was truly astonished to find you in his cabin. You looked so scared, so obviously forced into being there, working for him. And it just didn't match my understanding of his character. I honestly thought he'd just quietly drink himself into an early grave."