on the wall serenading them. Jay Warwick had given way in the face of his aunt’s eagerness for her plans, clearly unwilling to upset her by betraying his own displeasure. Everything should have been perfect. But that would have been too easy. She didn’t think he would be quite so gentle with her, and her heart was pounding furiously as she was insistently propelled along a path dissecting the formal gardens, closely flanked by the tall, dangerous figure of her nemesis.
‘There’s really no need to escort me, Mr Warwick,’ she said, finally breaking the silence. ‘I’m sure I can find my own way.’
‘I like to stretch my legs after a long drive.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘I assure you I have no immediate plans to ravish you in the rhodedendrons.’
‘It never occurred to me that you would,’ she said. ‘Unless of course the one-to-a-bed rule only applies inside the hall?’
‘If you were considering putting it to the test, I would advise against it.’
‘You’re really quite safe, I promise,’ she said flippantly, firmly ignoring the thought that if he had been intent on ravishment, she wasn’t totally convinced that she would be able to resist him. It was infuriating.
He stopped, and she was forced to do the same. He regarded her thoughtfully, gold glints sparking in the depths of velvet brown eyes. ‘Perhaps you should be more concerned for your own safety.’ Then, ignoring her sharp intake of breath, he regained possession of her elbow and continued to propel her down a broad gravel path flanked on either side by the black skeletal shapes of ancient standard roses. This was hardly the pleasant walk in the garden that she had envisaged when she set out first thing. She attempted to shake free. But his grip was deceptively firm. ‘I wouldn’t want you to think, Kate, that because I have decided not to interfere with Tisha’s plans I am happy about them.’
‘I did get the hint of a feeling that you weren’t too happy.’
‘I believed I had scotched this particular bee in her bonnet. Presumably that’s why she chose to go behind my back. She is a stubborn old woman and can’t bear not to get her way. Clearly things are too far advanced to stop without causing her a great deal of distress. So be it.’ He glanced at her. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘I arrived last night.’
‘I see. Then you have very little time. I hope your much-vaunted powers of organisation are more than myth, because the house is opening in less than two weeks.’
‘I know.’
‘Well, it will keep you fully occupied. Not that there are many opportunities to flirt with the dinner guests here.’
Only the whiteness above her lip betrayed the effort it was taking Kate to keep her voice even, her expression bland. ‘Perhaps I can have your assurance that the dinner guests won’t flirt with me? Even those that live here?’
For a moment she thought she had taken him by surprise but he recovered so quickly that she couldn’t be certain. ‘At Fullerton Hall, Kate, I make the rules.’
She gave a little gasp. ‘I have a few of my own and top of the list concerns—’
‘You really are not in any position to dictate terms,’ he interrupted, ‘if there’s a no-break clause in your contract.’
‘Top of the list,’ she repeated, furiously, ‘concerns…’ This time there was no interruption, just the sudden certainty that she was about to make an utter fool of herself.
‘Well?’ he prompted, impatiently.
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Insisting that he promise not to kiss her in the kitchen, or anywhere else for that matter, might just put ideas into his head regarding the simplest way to rid himself of her.
‘This way, Kate.’ He pushed open a pair of ornamental gates flanked by high formal yew hedges and guarded by a bronze wolf with a hungry leer. Jay patted the beast affectionately and then stepped through and on to the grassy path. Kate hesitated and he looked back.
‘“Enter these enchanted woods, you who dare.” Do you dare, Kate?’
She regarded him levelly. ‘What could there possibly be to fear, Mr Warwick?’
In answer, he took her arm and led her along a narrow path knee-deep in bluebells. ‘It’s the possibility of danger that makes life interesting, Kate.’ There was a resolute intensity about the man. ‘We all need to take risks, or how will we know we are alive?’
He stopped and glanced down at her and frowned slightly. His arm was still linked in hers, holding her close on the narrow path, and above the heady scent of the flowers she could smell the warmth of his body, good cloth, leather. Every nerve-end was tingling, polarised by his presence, drawing her under his spell. Each moment this close to him was a risk and he was right. She could never remember feeling quite so vividly alive.
He continued to regard her for a moment with a slightly puzzled expression, then abruptly glanced at his watch. ‘It’s time to start work, Kate. You can begin by cooking me some breakfast.’
‘You’d better take me back, then, Mr Warwick. I can’t have you passing out from hunger in “these enchanted woods”. It would be too bad if you were spirited away by a passing fairy.’
‘There are things far more dangerous than fairies in the woods, Miss Thornley. Innocent-looking young women who look as if butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths, for one.’
Kate felt the hot colour burning her cheekbones. ‘How do you like your eggs?’ she demanded, finally managing to wrench her arm from his. Presumably because he was no longer interested in holding it.
‘Cooked,’ he said, and smiled slightly. ‘And on a plate, in case you had any more unconventional plans for them.’ He opened the door for her and followed her into the kitchen. ‘I’ll eat in here. With you.’
Kate wrapped herself in an apron and went into the pantry for a bowl of eggs. ‘Cooked on a plate,’ she muttered angrily to herself. Kate put some bacon in a pan and placed it on the Aga rather firmly. Damn Jay Warwick, she thought angrily to herself, then applied herself to the task of providing the wretched man with breakfast. She added a couple of rashers of bacon to the pan. The early morning walk had sharpened her appetite and she smiled ruefully.
At least if she was eating it would give her something to do with her hands. Strangling the world’s favourite bachelor wouldn’t win her any friends on a jury. The door opened behind her but she made no indication that she heard, instead giving her total attention to the perfect execution of her eggs.
‘That smells good.’
‘I’m a very good cook.’ She dished up the food and placed it on the table, marvelling at the steadiness of her hand. She met his eyes.
‘I know. Sit down and eat your breakfast.’ He pulled out a chair for her. He had capitulated so suddenly that she didn’t quite believe it, and she hesitated. He regarded her steadily for a moment, then shrugged. ‘If Tisha wants a teashop in the conservatory, Kate, she shall have it, but you’re up against a deadline and you don’t know your way about. It will take our combined efforts to make it work.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought you have much time to spare for such minor details.’
‘In
