turned towards him again and said, ‘And you? Are you a nice man? Or are you just a little more discreet?’
He laughed softly. ‘Both. And I really do need your help with my garden. But just to set the record straight, yes, I do have a personal interest in you—I think you’re fascinating, and I’d like to get to know you better. It’s up to you what you want to do about it. Unlike Tim Godbold, I’m actually going to give you a choice.’
She snorted softly. ‘And I suppose I should be grateful.’
‘Don’t force yourself.’ He felt a prickle of irritation. He’d just spent an outrageous amount of money to rescue her from that slimy toad, and if he’d been expecting gratitude, he was obviously not going to get it.
He turned into her drive, cut the engine and looked across at her in the harsh glare of her outside light, his irritation growing. ‘Look, forget anything personal. You owe me a day in the garden. I suggest for both our sakes we get it over with as quickly as possible.’
She stiffened, drawing in a quick breath as if he’d hurt her feelings. Good. About time. She’d given his a fair old battering. ‘OK. When do you want me to look at it?’
‘Did you have a date in mind?’
‘Well—this week or next I’d earmarked for it, really.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Oh! But—I haven’t got a babysitter—’
‘Well, if there’s no alternative you’ll have to bring them with you. There are plenty of people kicking about at home who can entertain them if need be.’ He crossed his fingers, hoping Mrs Hodges wouldn’t have decided to go to town for the day with her daughter.
‘I don’t even know where you live,’ she said.
‘Heveling—it’s easy to find. Here—have a card.’
He pressed it into her hand, all thoughts of kissing her goodnight now flying out of the window along with his tenuous grip on his temper. He leant across instead and pushed open her door. ‘What time tomorrow?’
‘Um—nine?’
‘Fine.’
She looked at him blankly for a moment, then gave him a wary smile. ‘OK. And you’re sure it’s all right to bring the children?’
‘Sure.’
‘OK.’ She got out of the car and paused, obviously struggling with her better nature, then gave him a wry grin. ‘Thanks for tonight.’
He snorted, but chivalry prevented him from driving off until he’d seen her close the front door behind her, then he reversed carefully off her drive and went home.
At least the dog would be pleased to see him!
‘Well?’ Jenny said, studying her with avid interest. ‘Did they sell you?’
Georgia laughed wryly. ‘Did they ever. Jenny, I thought I was going to die. This awful, slimy man and Matthew started bidding for me against each other. I was so embarrassed.’
‘Oh, my goodness. Did it get all terribly personal?’
‘Just a bit. Tim Godbold was all but drooling—’
‘Tim Godbold! Not the Tim Godbold?”
Georgia groaned. ‘Probably. Don’t tell me you’ve heard of him?’
‘Well of course I have! It was all over the papers! He tried to rape that girl—a temp working in his office. Made her work late and tried it on. It all fell flat because she suddenly decided not to testify.’
Which backed up Matt’s story. She suddenly began to feel very grateful to him. ‘Anyway, Matt won, and I’m going to look at his garden tomorrow,’ she said, and glanced down at the card in her hand.
Her eyes widened, and she realised her mouth was hanging open. She snapped it shut, closed her eyes and opened them again. ‘Oh, Lord,’ she said weakly.
‘What? What is it?’
‘He lives at Heveling Hall,’ she told Jenny. ‘That must be why his name seemed familiar. Oh, blast. He lives at my favourite house in the whole world, and he wants me to tell him what to do with the garden!’
‘Well, that’s great,’ Jenny said, beaming. ‘Isn’t it?’
Georgia thought over all the horrible things she’d said to him, and what she’d since found out about Tim Godbold, and felt sick.
‘I hope so,’ she murmured. ‘I may, on the other hand, have just thrown away the opportunity of a lifetime.’
Saturday dawned bright and clear, a lovely mid-April day. She woke the children at eight, told them they were going out for the day to Matthew’s house and was greeted with howls of protest.
‘I wanted to play with Tom!’ Joe wailed. ‘We were going to play football!’
‘An’ you thaid Emily could come!’ Lucy added, bursting into tears.
Oh, Lord, who’d be a mother? ‘Listen, kids, it’s OK. You’ll love it. He lives at Heveling Hall.’
The noise ceased abruptly. ‘Heavenly Hall? Really?’ Joe said, eyes wide. Lucy for once was speechless.
‘Really,’ Georgia told them. ‘So come on, let’s have you up and dressed and having breakfast in ten minutes, please. I don’t want to be late.’
She left them rushing about searching for their clothes, and went downstairs. She had to check her post and pay a couple of bills. Doing that left her rather short for the month, and although she had all the kudos of the Chelsea Flower Show coming up, preparing for it was going to take a humungous amount of time and effort—and while she was worrying about that, she couldn’t be earning money on normal commissions.
And now, because Matt Fraser had bid so much for her, she felt morally obliged to give him more time than had been agreed, even though her initial reaction had been to tell him to take a flying leap and to reimburse him.
Good job she hadn’t followed up on that one! She simply didn’t have enough money in the world to pay him back for that grand gesture.
Oh, well, no doubt he could afford it.
The children came flying downstairs, laces undone, hair unbrushed, eyes wide. ‘Doeth he really live at Heavenly Hall?’ Lucy asked excitedly. ‘Really, truly?’
‘Really, truly. Here—this is his card.’
She showed the children the card Matt had given her last night, and Lucy, whose reading was not getting off to a tremendous start, waded through the words laboriously. ‘Wow,’ she whispered, awed.
‘Come on, breakfast,’ Georgia said, taking the card back and filing it in her purse. ‘We need to go.’
He was right, it was easy to find—particularly if you often
