door, then looked back at him squarely.
‘I am grateful for your concern at the “interruption” to my busy life,’ she said, ‘but… thanks, but no thanks, Oscar. Mulberry Court and I have a very long way to go before we’re through.’ And with that she got out of the car and walked swiftly towards the entrance to the Inn.
* * *
Back in his room, Oscar took his laptop from the wardrobe and threw it down on the bed, admitting to feeling unusually distracted. Exploring Mulberry Court this morning had ruffled his memories more than he’d expected and he’d felt his aunt’s presence in every corner. He knew he had always felt closer to her than to his own parents, and her wise gaze as she’d looked down at him from that portrait had unnerved him slightly.
He shrugged. Anyway, he’d probably blown any chance of Helena agreeing to his perhaps unrealistic proposal. It had obviously been the wrong moment to have mentioned it, he thought. If ever there was to be a right one. He remembered enough about her to know that she had a mind of her own, and would not easily be persuaded into making decisions she might later regret.
But what to do with the house and its contents was a totally insignificant matter compared with the far more vital one to be handled, he thought. Because he had the distinct feeling that he’d been awakened from a hundred-year sleep and by the most desirable woman he’d ever known. Or was ever likely to know. But had he woken up in time?
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