Carole Mortimer - The Unwilling Mistress

‘Why don’t you come into the farmhouse and have a nice cup of tea, Mr Davenport?’ May briskly took charge of the situation, shooting March another reproving look as she took hold of Will’s arm to urge him towards the house.

March followed slowly behind them. Some people just didn’t have a sense of humour, she decided scornfully. It had only been a joke, for goodness’ sake. And he had seemed to like the studio well enough before he’d realized she lived here too.

Maybe that was his problem, she realized a little disgruntledly. Perhaps he thought she might try to follow up on his earlier dinner invitation? That she had done this for some hidden reason of her own?

Well, he needn’t worry, she had no intention of bothering him even if he did move into the studio for a couple of weeks; she was out at work all day, and busy with chores about the farm the rest of the time. Besides, she had the distinct feeling that Will Davenport was way out of her league…

‘Put the kettle on, March,’ her sister instructed firmly once they were in the warmth of the kitchen, Will Davenport still not looking any happier as he sat at the kitchen table. ‘You obviously had no idea that this was March’s home, too?’ May prompted as she sat down opposite him.

‘None at all.’ He seemed to rouse himself out of his stupor for a few seconds as he looked up at March. ‘You would be March Calendar?’

She grinned. ‘I certainly would.’

May frowned across at March before turning her attention back to their visitor. ‘My sister sometimes has a warped sense of humour—’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ March cut in impatiently.

‘It was only a little joke. What possible difference can it make that I live here too?’ she added irritably.

May sighed. ‘Well, if I were in Will’s shoes—’

‘Which you obviously aren’t,’ March taunted; Will Davenport’s shoes, indeed all his clothes, looked much more expensive than anything they could afford!

Her sister glared at her. ‘March, when are you going to learn that you just can’t do things like this? You’re twenty-six years old, for goodness’ sake, not six!’

Her cheeks became flushed at her sister’s rebuke. ‘It was a joke,’ she repeated incredulously.

‘It may have been—’

‘It really is all right, May,’ Will Davenport cut in lightly. ‘March was just settling a score from this morning. Right?’ He looked at her with narrowed blue eyes.

March shrugged. ‘Well, I thought it was funny,’ she muttered disgustedly.

And, no matter what May might say, it was funny. But March also knew the reason for May’s concern; the money they would receive from letting the studio for two weeks would come in very handy. Any extra money always came in handy on a small farm like this one!

Will Davenport seemed to visibly relax. ‘It was. It is.’ He nodded ruefully. ‘You see, May, I rather inconvenienced March this morning by “usurping” her parking space,’ he explained wryly, at the same time shooting March a derisive look. ‘This was obviously pay-back time.’ His gaze was mocking on March now. ‘Well, I’m afraid the joke is on you, March—because I have every intention of renting the studio for a couple of weeks. If that’s okay with you?’ He turned back to May.

‘Hey, I live here too,’ March defended ruefully.

‘I think we’re now all well aware of that fact!’ May bit out impatiently.

Will Davenport began to smile, the smile turning into a chuckle. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy my stay here, after all,’ he murmured appreciatively.

‘How could you have doubted it?’ March came back mockingly, more than a little relieved that he had decided to stay after all; May really would never have forgiven her if he had decided not to simply because of the joke she had played on him.

‘Only too easily, I would have thought,’ May snapped, but she was smiling too now.

‘I was thinking of moving in later this afternoon, if that’s okay?’ their new paying guest prompted lightly.

‘He hates staying in hotels,’ March put in derisively.

‘Of course it’s okay for you to move in today,’ May confirmed. ‘The studio should be thoroughly warm by this evening,’ she added apologetically.

Something it obviously wasn’t yet. Despite March’s prompt call earlier so that May could go over and switch on the heating for their visitor. The studio hadn’t been used since last summer, and so there hadn’t been any heating on over there, either.

‘Although you might prefer to come over and have dinner with us just for this evening?’ May continued frowningly.

Now that was just going too far in March’s opinion. The man was supposed to be renting the studio, completely independent of them and the farm, not moving in with them!

Will Davenport sat back in his chair to shoot her a knowing smile—as if he were only too well aware of what she was thinking. Which he probably was; she never had been any good at hiding her feelings! And with this man, someone who wouldn’t be around long enough to matter, she didn’t see why she should bother…

‘How about that, March?’ he drawled mockingly. ‘We can have dinner together, after all!’

Oh, goody—she didn’t think!

‘Will invited me out to dinner earlier,’ she told May bluntly as her sister looked slightly puzzled by the conversation.

May looked speculative now as she glanced first at Will Davenport and then more closely at March. ‘Really?’ she finally murmured enigmatically.

‘Really!’ March confirmed with a certain amount of resentment; the last thing she wanted was for her eldest sister to start thinking there was actually anything between Will Davenport and herself—because there wasn’t. ‘I said no, of course,’ she said flatly. ‘One can never be too careful, can one?’ she added pointedly.

May turned to Will Davenport. ‘Our younger sister used to sing at a hotel in town and was recently—involved, in the arrest of a man who was attacking people in this area,’ she explained with a grimace.

‘I sincerely hope you’re not implying that I—’

‘No, of course not,’ May laughingly dismissed Will Davenport’s mocking query. ‘It just wasn’t very pleasant, for January, or anyone else, for that matter,’ she added with a frown. ‘In fact, her fiancé has taken her away for a short holiday to get over it.’

‘January?’ Will Davenport echoed ruefully. ‘Your parents certainly liked the names of months for their children, didn’t they?’

‘Personally, I’ve always been rather relieved I wasn’t born in September,’ March put in dryly. ‘I can imagine nothing worse than going through life being called Sept! I suppose August wouldn’t have been too bad—’ She broke off as May spluttered with laughter.

‘That wouldn’t have suited you at all!’ May explained with a grin.

‘No, March suits you perfectly,’ Will Davenport assured her wryly.

March gave him a narrow-eyed look as she placed the mug of tea on the table in front of him.

He returned her gaze with a look that was just too innocent for her liking. ‘I’ve always looked on the month of March as brisk and crisp, the month that blows all the cobwebs away,’ he drawled mockingly.

‘That’s March to a T!’ May confirmed with another laugh.

‘Thanks very much!’ she muttered disgruntledly.

‘You’re welcome.’ Will gave a derisive inclination of his head before turning back to May. ‘Dinner this evening sounds wonderful—if you’re sure I’m not intruding?’

Of course he was intruding. But, as March knew only too well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the money he would pay them in rent over the next two weeks—once they had paid the commission to Carter and Jones, of course—would be very useful. The roof needed fixing on the barn, for one thing, and there were any number of small jobs about the farm that needed doing.