Susanne James - The Millionaire's Chosen Bride

‘Of course I can. As long as we aren’t going to cross a river.’

‘No rivers,’ he replied shortly. ‘Just half a meadow and a couple of small copses. It’s a favourite track behind Poplars and back again. The dogs will lead the way.’

They fell into step, and Melody was struck again at how this was such a long way from her flat in a busy street where the sound of traffic never stopped. She looked up at Adam. ‘I really can’t believe my luck,’ she said simply. ‘Although if you’d bid one more time I’d have stopped.’

He waited before answering. ‘Do you mean that? Was I that close?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Melody said at once. ‘It was touch and go—but you stopped at just the right moment!’ There was a short silence, then, ‘Anyway,’ she went on happily, ‘you said you didn’t want the cottage for yourself, didn’t you? After you’d told me that I didn’t feel so bad about it! But I hope the friend who was interested will find something else soon.’

‘Oh, it’s too late now,’ Adam said briefly.

He glanced down at her, and by now Melody had grown accustomed to the light, so she could make out his features and rather dark expression. ‘Too late? What do you mean?’

He waited before going on. ‘I was bidding for Callum and Fee,’ he said. ‘They really wanted to have the cottage—it’s been their ambition for years. Poplars and the Gatehouse were originally linked—as you’ll have noted from the agent’s blurb—and it was their aim to own both so that one day, when they retire, the cottage would be their family home. The hard-earned profit they’ve made on the guesthouse allowed them to go for it.’

Melody swallowed. Now she felt worse than ever! She’d unwittingly thwarted the plans of that lovely local couple…and not a word had been said about it during the meal. Well, what was there to say? she thought. What could they have said? They’d lost the chance, and business was a chancy thing—everyone knew that.

‘But…but…they wouldn’t have lived in the cottage, would they? Not while they were running Poplars?’ Melody said, trying to quell her feelings of disquiet.

‘No. Not yet. But in the meantime they intended renting it on a long-term lease to any local couple who needed a place to live. We’re so desperately short of affordable housing for the younger generation and they’re all moving away. In another ten or fifteen years the village will just be full of older people and tourists. And part-time owners like yourself.’

For once, Melody felt lost for words. She could see the point he was making—in no uncertain terms! But she could see her own, too. It had seemed so right that the place was for sale at the very time she was in the area on holiday. Was fate trying to tell her something, giving her the chance to find out what she’d always wanted to know? A chance to unwrap something of herself that had lain hidden for so long?

Neither spoke for the next few moments as they trod easily over the soft, dry grass of the meadow. Then Melody said, ‘I’m amazed that I was invited to share that fantastic meal…to be their guest. They must hate me—or at least bitterly resent me,’ she added.

‘Oh, Callum and Fee aren’t like that,’ Adam said at once. ‘They don’t bear grudges.’ He shrugged. ‘They knew all along that it was more than probable that someone else would beat them. They’ve accepted it gracefully.’

He didn’t look at her as he spoke, nor mention the fact that it had been his suggestion that she should be included in their supper arrangements. For one thing, he’d thought it would be useful to have some idea what this woman’s plans were for when she came to the village, and for another—and a more pressing one—he wanted to know what she was really like. He readily admitted that she fascinated him, and not only because of her outward appearance. There was something about her, some inner thing that intrigued him. And if he wanted to get to know her, there was no time like the present!

‘Callum and Fee…they don’t have children?’ she asked—and the question made Melody think briefly of her own life plan. She and Crispin had met at work, and both had been equally ambitious. She’d had vague notions of motherhood, maybe in ten years’ time, but their careers had always taken first place. A family had definitely been a back burner issue.

‘No,’ Adam replied shortly, in answer to her question. ‘They don’t.’

They walked on slowly, neither wanting the evening to end, because it was one of those rare warm summer nights with hardly any breeze, and a pale moon to give them just enough light to see their way.

‘This is so heavenly,’ Melody murmured. ‘Like a dream.’

‘What happened to your marriage?’ Adam said suddenly, without the slightest embarrassment at asking the question.

‘My husband—Crispin—was killed in a climbing accident last year in the Himalayas,’ Melody said quietly.

Adam looked at her sharply. ‘Oh—I’m sorry—really. I shouldn’t have asked,’ he said.

‘We’d been married for just a few months.’

‘That was bad. I’m sorry,’ he repeated.

She looked so small and defenceless as he glanced down at her that for a mad moment he wanted to pull her towards him and hold her tightly. But he resisted the temptation.

‘And you?’ she enquired. ‘You’re not married?’

‘No, thanks,’ he said cheerfully.

Well, Melody thought, that was a fairly unequivocal reply! Anyway, something about this man told her he wasn’t the marrying kind. He’d be the sort who enjoyed women’s company for the obvious reason, but would never be happy to settle down, commit to one person. She frowned to herself, not knowing what had given her that impression. But something about his attitude made her think that he was of a restless nature.

Suddenly she said, ‘I did get lost this afternoon—trying to find my way to the Red House—as Fee informed everyone.’

He smiled faintly in the darkness. ‘We all get lost sometimes,’ he said.

‘You knew I’d have difficulty, didn’t you?’

‘Yes. Especially as you roared off in the wrong direction,’ he replied. ‘But I knew you’d succeed eventually. And everyone speaks English here!’

Their walk came to an end, and they let themselves in quietly.

‘For your future reference,’ Adam said softly, ‘they lock up at midnight.’

‘I’ll remember,’ Melody said. She turned to go towards the stairs. ‘Thanks for the stroll, Adam. I’m sure I’ll be repeating that many times.’

‘I’m sure you will,’ he murmured. Then, ‘D’you think you can find your way to your room?’ he enquired innocently.

Melody smiled ruefully. ‘I deserved that,’ she said. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight, Mel.’

Melody undressed quickly, washing and cleaning her teeth rapidly, before pulling back the duvet and collapsing into the feather-soft bed. It was heaven to lie down, and she was exhausted. What a day! Her head was so packed with thoughts and emotions that it felt as if thousands of insects were racing around, trying to find space. Almost at once her eyelids began to droop, and in her semi-doze Adam’s handsome features, with the stern, uncompromising mouth, loomed large. She didn’t know what to make of him, she thought. He didn’t like her much; she was certain of that. Although he was perfectly polite—even charming at certain moments—there was a coolness between them which she’d felt from the first moment.

Of course he was cross that she’d upset his friends’ plans…but what about her plans? This village was where she’d started life, and Poplars had been her mother Frances’s sole means of employment until she’d had Melody at the age of forty, when she’d promptly moved with her newborn child to the east end of London to live with a cousin. Melody had been twenty-two, in the middle of her Finals at university, when Frances had died suddenly. And in all those years Frances had never revealed who the father of her child was—had been so secretive about that part of her life that discussion on the matter had become almost a taboo subject. All she would ever tell her daughter was that she had loved deeply, only the once, and that certain things could not be spoken of, that some words were better left unsaid.