the mockery behind the politely phrased question, she made a point of not answering.
‘Of course, there’s always London,’ he pursued. ‘Or perhaps you feel a big city isn’t for you?’
He had the smooth abrasiveness of pumice-stone.
‘I know it isn’t. I lived and worked in London after I left college, and I was glad to leave it.’
‘You worked in a library?’
She shook her head. ‘I had a job as a secretary.’
‘But you were still keeping your dream alive.’
Though it was a statement rather than a question, she found herself answering, ‘Yes. At weekends, and in my spare time, I went to salerooms and auctions to try and collect together enough rare manuscripts and first editions to start my own business.’
‘An expensive undertaking, even for a well-paid secretary,’ he commented drily.
‘I had some capital.’ Annoyed that she’d let herself be provoked into telling a perfect stranger so much, she relapsed into silence, concentrating on her driving.
At the top of the long hill they skirted a bare spinney, where as a child she’d gathered wild primroses, before turning on to Old Castle Road.
The lights of Rymington, below them now and to their left, had vanished, blotted out by the falling snow. It was coming faster now, the wipers having a job to keep the windscreen clear.
Glancing to the right, Anna glimpsed the old red-brick wall of the Manor. The darkness and the conditions made it difficult to judge distances, but they couldn’t be too far away from the main gates.
Apparently reading her thoughts, her companion broke the silence to say, ‘Only a hundred yards or so to go. You’ll see the entrance in a moment.’
Just as he spoke, the headlights picked it up.
Anna had only ever seen the tall, wrought-iron gates closed. Now they stood wide open.
As she drove carefully through them and up the long, winding, unlit drive between tall trees, she remarked, ‘The weather seems to be getting worse. I expect your wife will be relieved to see you back.’
‘What makes you presume I’m married?’
‘Well…with all the shopping and everything…’
‘Even poor bachelors have to eat.’ He was undoubtedly laughing at her.
A shade stiffly, she said, ‘Of course.’
Through the snow the headlights picked up the bulk of a house and flashed across dark windows. It appeared to be deserted.
But of course it couldn’t be. A place the size of Hartington Manor was bound to have staff.
Yet, if there were servants, why had he been doing his own shopping?
She brought the car to a halt, and, remembering his injured arm, asked, ‘Can I help with the groceries?’
‘I’d be grateful if you would.’
Turning off the engine, she made to clamber out.
‘May I suggest that you wait here for a moment while I open the door and put on some lights? Normally the security lights would have been working, but the storm you mentioned earlier put an electricity substation out of action. We do have an emergency generator, but unfortunately it has only a very limited capacity.’
He retrieved the carrier, and she watched him walk through the snow to the house. Awkward, one-handed, he held the bag tucked beneath his arm while he felt in his pocket for the key and opened the door.
A moment later, the hall lights and a lantern above the door flashed on.
Switching off the car lights to save the battery, Anna lifted out the box and followed him into the house.
Shouldering the door shut against the snow blowing in, he led the way across a high, panelled hall, and into a large kitchen with a flagged floor and a massive inglenook fireplace.
In front of the hearth, where a log fire was already laid, were a couple of easy chairs and a small, sturdy table.
Beneath a deep shelf that held a gleaming array of copper saucepans and kettles was an Aga, which threw out a welcoming warmth. Around it, fitted in with care, marrying the old to the new, there was every modern convenience.
The only things missing seemed to be servants.
Anna put the box down on a long oak table and turned to the door.
‘Before you rush off,’ Gideon said, ‘I’ve a proposition to put to you.’
Watching her freeze, he added sardonically, ‘Oh, nothing improper, I assure you. It’s simply this: you’re in need of a job, and I’m in need of an experienced secretary-cum-librarian.’
Wondering if this was his idea of a joke, she looked at him warily.
‘Let me briefly explain. The internet gives me all the access I need to world markets, and enables me to buy and sell goods, services, whatever… So as soon as I’m properly established here, I intend to run my various business interests from home… Hence the need for a secretary.’
‘And a librarian?’
‘Hartington Manor has a very fine library, as you may well know.’
She half shook her head.
‘But for a while now it’s been somewhat neglected. I’d like to see it put in order and properly catalogued. With regard to salary, I thought something in the region of…’ He named a sum that no one in their right mind could have turned down.
When she merely stared at him, he added, ‘I hope you see that as reasonable?’
The slight edge to his tone made her wonder if he was waiting for some sign of gratitude or enthusiasm.
Before she could find her voice, however, he went on, ‘If you accept the post, I’d like you to start work straight after the holiday.’
There was a silence in which the confusion of her thoughts was barely contained.
Then, feeling the need to say something without committing herself, she asked the first thing that came into her head. ‘How big is the library?’
‘Quite large by private standards.’ He dangled the bait. ‘Why don’t you have a look?’
She took it. ‘I’d like to.’
Even if she didn’t accept the job, the opportunity to have a quick look at the Manor’s library was one she couldn’t miss.
‘Then please feel free.’
He made no immediate move to take her and, somewhat at a loss, she waited.
It
