CHAPTER 15
The Riverside Inn was the hub of the village. Housed in a crooked sixteenth century building, it was filled with oak beams and uneven creaking floorboards. An immaculate mahogany bar and huge inglenook fireplace were in the main room, and a cosy restaurant in the back. The pretty garden backed onto the River Candle and had a willow tree to one side with a stunning array of flowering shrubs around the fringes of the lawn.
It was eight o’clock and Georgiana was wasted. She and Will had been in the pub garden since lunchtime and had drunk enough vodka between them to sink a ship.
She had raged her way through the first two drinks, bemoaning her misfortune to be taken in so easily by someone so utterly deceiving. She’d then spent the next few hours lurching between tears and frus
