His Perfect Bride?. Louisa Heaton

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His Perfect Bride? - Louisa Heaton Mills & Boon Medical

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out to her at a reduced rate and the price was very reasonable. She certainly wouldn’t be able to get a place in London at the rate he’d given her—not even a bedsit! And here she was with the key to a beautiful, thatched, two-bedroom cottage.

      Inside, she found the light switches and gasped in delight. The low roof created an immediate intimacy in the small rooms. The lounge furniture was covered in white sheets, but when she removed them she found old, chintzy chairs, with scatter cushions made from patchwork, and an old green leather sofa. The walls were whitewashed, with exposed dark beams, and there was a good-sized fireplace already stacked with logs.

      ‘Shall I start the fire for you?’ Olly said.

      Lula smiled. ‘That’s okay. I can do it. Why don’t you get me those boxes from Betsy?’

      He nodded, but she could tell he would have been a lot happier playing with the fire.

      Typical man.

      She liked Olly already. He was charming and old-fashioned and very English. He had classic good looks, with dark blond hair and bright blue eyes like Chris Hems-worth. Just my type. But, despite the handsome looks and the knockout body, she hoped she didn’t have to worry about there being an attraction between them whilst they worked. It wasn’t the sort of thing she was looking for. Not here. There were other reasons for her being in Atlee Wold and romance wasn’t one of them.

      The firelighters worked quickly and Lula soon had a bright orange flame licking at the wood. There was a stack of old newspapers to one side, and she screwed up a few and inserted them into gaps in the wood to help it. Soon the crackling flames had taken hold and the fire began to build. She stood warming her hands as Olly came barging in, carrying the larger of her two blanketed boxes.

      ‘What’s in this thing?’

      She took it from him, looked around and saw a table in the corner that looked suitable. Setting the box down, she freed the blanket and whipped it off. ‘Say hello to Nefertiti and Cleo!’

      She saw him take a step back, his mouth open in shock and horror. ‘Are they … rats?’

      Lula grinned and bit her lip as she stooped down to open the door of the cage and both rats—one dark brown and one pure white with pink eyes—climbed out onto her hands and ran up her arm to sit on her shoulder. ‘Dumbo rats. Aren’t they beautiful?’

      He looked carefully at her, as if judging her sanity. ‘They’re rats.’

      ‘They’re very intelligent animals.’

      ‘So are dolphins, but you don’t have two of those, do you?’ He watched the rats play around under the dark wisps of Lula’s hair, their noses and whiskers twitching. Then he had a sudden dreadful thought. ‘What’s in the other box? The one in the boot of your car?’

      Lula grinned. ‘Anubis. You’d better get him—he’s on a heat pad especially.’

      Olly put his hands on his hips. ‘What is Anubis?’

      She tilted her head to one side, amused by his reaction. ‘I’ll get him. Here.’

      She reached up and took hold of the two rats from under her hair and planted them on his shoulder. She could see how he froze and winced and twitched at each of their movements as they gave him a good sniff. Their little pink noses and whiskers tickled his ears.

      Olly stood frozen, as if rigor mortis had set in. ‘Please hurry.’

      Lula chuckled, threw her jacket on and rushed out into the snow. Pretty soon she came back with the smaller blanketed box and put it on the coffee table. There was a cable and plug for this one, and when she pressed the wall switch a small light came on inside the blanket.

      Olly stood awkwardly with the two rats running about his shoulders. ‘Could you take these?’

      Lula laughed. He looked so funny standing there, with his shoulders all hunched up by his ears and two rats perched on his shoulder, trying to sniff the hair on his head. She scooped them up easily and placed them back in their cage.

      Olly let out a big breath and then brushed off his shoulders. ‘Thanks. So, Anubis … what is he?’

      She looked at him slightly askance. ‘He’s my big challenge.’

      ‘Challenge? Why?’

      ‘Because I’m scared to death of him, and as I’m determined to beat all my fears I’ve borrowed him from a friend until I get over that fear.’

      Olly gave a single nod. ‘And that fear is called …?’ Though he had a suspicion.

      Lula removed the blanket. ‘Arachnophobia.’

      In the small tank, amongst some wood and soil, was a large, very dark, very hairy, red-kneed tarantula.

      He peered closer. ‘It’s bigger than my hand.’

      ‘Isn’t he a beauty?’

      ‘I thought you were scared?’

      ‘I am. But I can still appreciate how gorgeous he is.’

      ‘And it’s your aim in life to pick this thing up?’

      She nodded. ‘One of my aims. Eventually.’

      Olly shook his head. ‘You’re madder than a boxful of circus clowns.’

      They both laughed, but then Lula shivered and headed over to the fire and stood with her back to it, hands stretched out behind her. ‘Freezing!’

      ‘Shall I get the rest of the boxes?’

      ‘If you wouldn’t mind?’

      ‘It depends … Are there any more zoo creatures in Betsy?’

      Lula smiled. ‘Just woolly jumpers.’

      ‘Safe enough. Though you might have warned me earlier that I was handling livestock.’

      They’d unloaded all the boxes, and Lula had put her clothes away and freshened up, when Olly’s phone rang. The out-of-hours doctor service informed him that one of his older patients in the area was suffering from chest pains. Could he go?

      ‘It’s Mr Maynard. He lives out on one of the farms. We’ll take my car.’

      Lula nodded. It would be best to start with, until she got to know her way around—where the best roads were, what shortcuts there were. And this was a good way to meet some of the patients who couldn’t make it into the surgery for various reasons. She was particularly drawn to find all of those patients who tried to keep themselves hidden away and make sure she saw everyone.

      As Olly drove he filled her in on Mr Maynard.

      ‘He’s eighty-two years old and lives alone. His farm was a dairy once, but he never married or had kids and during the nineties everything just fell to pieces. He had to sell his herd and now he lives in the farmhouse alone.’

      Lula thought it sounded a very lonely existence. ‘How does he get

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