CATHERINE GEORGE - The Rich Man's Bride

She gave up on her book and leaned back, her mind on the past. She’d spent almost every school holiday here with Tom after their mother died. Hector Morton had been only too pleased to look after his grandchildren, ready to give any help he could to his grieving, hard-working doctor son. He’d kept a watchful, tolerant eye on Anna and Tom as they roamed the estate with Ryder. Edward Wyndham, the eldest son, was several years Ryder’s senior and, as heir to the estate, too involved in helping his father run it to have time for siblings. Dominic had surprised everyone, not least his parents, by appearing on the scene when Ryder was thirteen and Anna ten.

But five years after that everything changed for Anna.

The Wyndhams gave a party to celebrate Ryder’s eighteenth birthday and, to her wild excitement, Anna received a formal invitation. John Morton bought her the dress of her dreams and Hector drove her to the Manor that night, proud as Punch of his granddaughter. Anna received a warm welcome from all the family, but felt shy as she was introduced to the other guests. The boys were friendly, but the girls ignored her. They were sophisticated creatures, with long hair and strapless satin dresses, and the moment she laid eyes on them Anna found that her new elfin haircut and pastel chiffon party frock were all wrong. For the first time in her life she was conscious of the social gulf which yawned between Anna Morton from Keeper’s Cottage and Ryder Wyndham from the Manor. His mother, unfailingly kind as always, made sure that her youngest guest never lacked for partners when the disco music started thumping out in the marquee, but once supper was over Anna couldn’t get away fast enough. She thanked her hostess and, with the excuse that her grandfather was waiting for her, slipped away, desperate to go home.

But Ryder went racing after her and when he found that Hector’s old shooting brake was nowhere in sight, drove her home in the sports car he’d been given for his birthday. He’d laughingly demanded a goodnight kiss for taxi fare, the first they’d ever exchanged, and with a careless wave drove back to the party, leaving Anna to stand at the gate gazing after him in a daze. To Ryder the kiss had so obviously meant nothing more than an affectionate exchange with an old friend that Anna suffered a crushing sense of rejection as he returned at top speed to the Manor, eager to get back to the girls who’d been so hostile towards her. Anna watched the scarlet car roar away into the night and knew that nothing would be the same again. It was time to grow up.

Life also changed for the youngest Wyndham. According to Hector, Dominic grew up wild and rebellious, narrowly missed being expelled from school after his mother died, and insisted on taking a fine art course instead of studying law as his father wanted. Anna hadn’t seen him for years until the evening he came to tell her about Edward Wyndham’s sudden, tragic death.

She had been dressed ready for a party and knew with hindsight that she’d made more of an impression on her visitor than she’d realised in a clinging black sheath with her hair in an expensively tousled amber mane. But, no matter what Dominic said to his brother afterwards, she thought bitterly, she had merely offered her visitor coffee and sympathy, and even offered a tissue when his feelings overcame him and tears welled in the familiar blue Wyndham eyes. They had talked over old times together, and Dominic described his job in the fine arts section of a prestigious New York auction house, of the ‘nose’ he’d developed for finding sleepers that turned out to be lost masterpieces. He’d also talked a lot about the wonderful girl he worked with there. When Anna asked after Ryder, Dominic told her his brother was keeping his feelings under wraps, as usual. But Anna had eventually learnt exactly how Ryder felt the night he came to confront her with his accusations. And, even after all this time, the wound he’d inflicted was still painful.

Anna shrugged the memories away as she made supper. Afterwards she rang Clare to pass on the astonishing news about her legacy and tried to coax her friend to come down for the weekend. But Clare was now deep in the throes of her cold and in no state to go anywhere but bed.

‘Sorry, can’t make it, love,’ she said thickly. ‘It’s a good thing you’re safe out of the way down there. The last thing you need is assault and battery by a new set of germs.’

‘You sound terrible, Clare. For heaven’s sake look after yourself—remember what happened to me!’

‘A salutary lesson, darling. Never fear, I’m dosing myself with pills washed down with hot lemon and honey laced with single malt my dear old ex brought me.’

‘Is Charlie with you?’

‘He’s mopping my feverish brow as we speak.’

Anna grinned as she heard familiar male laughter. ‘I’ll leave you to enjoy ill health, then. Take care.’

Tom rang later to exclaim over their grandfather’s legacy. ‘Will you sell the cottage, Anna?’

‘It’s the sensible thing to do, but I don’t want to. As I told Dad, the three of us can use it as a weekend retreat.’

‘But that’s not fair. You didn’t get any cash, and you’ll need some just to keep the place ticking over.’

‘I know that, Tom, but I can manage that quite easily on my salary. Besides, this place is so full of Gramp I can’t bear the thought of strangers living here.’

‘Me too, but you may well change your mind after a few days on your own down there.’

DETERMINED to prove Tom wrong, Anna settled into a pleasant, restful routine. She slept reasonably well, drove to the village after breakfast every morning for a daily paper and anything else she fancied, then after lunch went for a walk if the weather was good or a drive when it rained. By the evening she was only too happy to talk on the phone with friends for a while before settling on a sofa with a book, or to watch television, and her mirror confirmed that she looked a lot better. To her relief she saw no more of Ryder Wyndham, but her father checked on her daily and promised to drive down to take her to lunch at the Red Lion the following Saturday.

Anna spent the morning tidying up the day before, went for a drive in the afternoon and on the way back called in at the village shop to lay in extra supplies for her father’s visit. She was so late getting back it was dark by the time she reached the cottage. She dumped her shopping down in the hall and switched on lights, then went into the parlour to draw the curtains. And stopped dead in the doorway. The place was a mess. The sofa cushions had been thrown to the floor and the television was missing, along with two oil paintings and the set of Spode plates from the inglenook…She stiffened, swallowing dryly. The intruder could still be in the house. Armed with a poker from the fireplace, she tiptoed through to the pantry but, to her enormous relief, met no one on the way. The burglar was long gone, taking the microwave, kettle and kitchen wall clock with him, she noted in fury. A chill ran down her spine. He might be upstairs.

Anna forced herself to creep up the narrow staircase, then sagged against the wall on the landing in relief when she found no sign of the intruder other than the chaos he’d caused. She stayed on the landing to look into each bedroom and ground her teeth in fury at the sight of drawers yanked out of the furniture and mattresses heaved to one side. As the final straw, her suitcase had been opened and her underwear tossed in a tangled heap on the carpet. But she was wearing her watch and signet ring and she’d taken her wallet with her, so the pickings in that field had been slim for the intruder, which was some consolation. Her instinct was to rush into each room and tidy up, but caution told her to leave everything as it was and ring the police to report the break-in. After making the call she found she was trembling with reaction. She knew she ought to ring her father. But he was a long way away and well into evening surgery by now and Tom had even further to drive, even if he was available.