True enough, the night was bright. The moon had a powerful glow. It shone over the darkness of his hair, highlighting him like a charcoal drawing. Dark eyes, high cheekbones, his lips set in that almost arrogant firm slant, as if she was some insect who amused him.
She did the only thing she could do: hitched her dress up, giving a brazen glimpse of long shapely legs as she swung over to join him. She felt pleased that she had managed the manoeuvre with as much dignity as possible, then spoilt it by catching her foot awkwardly on the cattle-grid and stumbling.
Frazer reached out a hand, catching her around the waist and steadying her.
For a brief instant she was held very close to him, her body touching the long length of his. She could smell the aroma of soap from his jumper. It was fresh and clean and somehow warmly comforting.
Flustered, she pulled herself hastily away. ‘Sorry.’
‘That’s OK.’ He sounded matter-of-fact. Obviously her closeness hadn’t had the same effect on him.
‘Don’t know how the goat got out.’ She forced herself to talk in an effort to cover her awkwardness. ‘There are cattle-grids on all the gates.’
‘There are umpteen gaps in your hedges, your stone walls need maintenance and your fences are all a disgrace,’ Frazer commented wryly. ‘An elephant could get out.’
‘Please feel free not to hold back on your criticism,’ Emma muttered with sarcasm, her moment of awkwardness forgotten.
‘I suppose it’s your business if you want to let your livestock roam the country,’ he replied tersely. ‘But it does become mine when they wander onto my land and wreak havoc.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She had to admit he had a point. ‘Did the goat do a lot of damage, then?’
He flicked a look at her as he went across to open the back of the Land Rover. ‘If you call eating four pairs of underpants and some bedlinen a lot of damage.’
‘Four pairs of…’ She wanted to laugh suddenly.
He glanced at her again. She was very glad that the moon chose that moment to go behind a cloud. She shouldn’t laugh. It was destruction of someone else’s property. But she couldn’t help being amused.
‘Your wife must have been annoyed.’ She kept a serious note in her voice with difficulty.
‘I don’t have a wife, just a housekeeper, and she was not best pleased.’
Emma went to stand next to him.
The goat stared at them both, its eyes reflecting brightly as the moon once more glided out from behind the clouds.
‘Come on, you pest.’ Frazer’s voice was gentle as he reached for the rope he had tied around its neck.
The goat gave a baleful bleat. It sounded loud in the night air. ‘Come on, now. I haven’t all night.’ Frazer leaned in so that he didn’t have to drag the animal with unnecessary force. It bleated again, and backed away from him, its hooves making a scraping sound on the floor.
‘Seeing as you’re here, grab the end of the rope, will you?’ Frazer muttered to Emma as he climbed into the back of the vehicle.
She noticed that his voice held a kinder, more patient note when he was talking to the animal than when he spoke to her.
He moved to pick the animal up, but missed as it made a dash for the door.
‘Catch her—’
Too late, the animal shot past Emma. She caught hold of the end of the rope as it whipped by and then found herself running behind the animal over the uneven turf, unable to stop it.
‘Let go, for heaven’s sake, or you’ll kill yourself.’
Instead she yanked at the rope, determined to get the animal to stop, turned over on her ankle, lost her balance and fell. She looked up in time to see the goat making a brave leap across a small mountain stream and disappearing through a hole in the hedge.
‘Are you OK?’ Frazer strolled over and offered her his hand.
Ignoring it, she got to her feet. ‘I’m fine.’ She brushed her hand over her clothes. Apart from the fact that there was a huge grass stain on the front of her silver dress, she was relatively unscathed.
‘Let that be a lesson—don’t attempt farming in your ballgown,’ Frazer murmured with a tinge of humour.
‘Very funny.’
Frazer grinned. ‘Well, I guess there’s nothing more you can do about old nanny goat until the morning. I suggest you get one of your farm labourers to find her first thing. Don’t leave her to wander.’
‘Of course I won’t,’ Emma murmured. ‘I’ll get Brian onto it in the morning.’ She picked some old twigs and pieces of bracken from the wool of her sweater.
‘Brian Robinson? Is he still working here?’ Frazer sounded incredulous.
‘Yes. Why do you ask?’
Frazer shook his head and walked to close the back doors of his Land Rover. ‘I suppose you are going to put this place up for sale?’ he asked, ignoring her question.
‘No. I’m planning on staying, making a success of it.’
‘On your own?’ He sounded shocked.
‘Why not?’
Then he laughed.
Emma glared at him. Was he going to make bigoted remarks like Jon? ‘What’s so funny?’ she asked tersely.
‘No offence, but you don’t look like the type to be stuck out here.’ His voice was dry. ‘Do you know anything about farming?’
‘I’m learning.’
‘Who’s teaching you?’
‘I’ve got books from the library—’
‘You’re not serious?’ He laughed again.
‘I’ve got the farm-hands, people who are experienced and trustworthy.’ She was starting to lose her temper. He was dangerously close to sounding like her ex-husband.
‘People like Brian?’ His tone was sarcastic. ‘Let me give you some advice. Don’t trust him around your livestock unless he’s well supervised.’
‘I don’t need any advice, thank you,’ she said stiffly.
‘Suit yourself.’ He shrugged. ‘When you get fed up playing farm, get in contact with me. I’d be interested in buying the place. I could use the extra land.’
‘It’s not for sale.’
‘I’ll offer you a good price.’
‘It’s not for sale,’
