that if they were to work together it would be on his terms. So why wasn’t it making him feel any better about the future? Why had he been left with this kind of unpleasant aftertaste as though he was being forced not only to recognise, but to bring out a side of himself that he didn’t particularly like?
Andrew slowed just a little as the car bounced over the undulations in the driveway formed by ancient tree roots. He glanced to his left at the fork and caught a metallic glimmer that begged a second look. A horse float was parked under the shelter of some trees. Good. The tenant had returned. Amanda someone, the solicitor had informed him.
Andrew needed to talk to this Amanda. To let her know that, unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to let her renew the lease on the cottage that was due to expire at the end of this month. He needed the cottage as accommodation. The agency had assured him they would be able to find a married couple who would jump at the opportunity of living here and working for him. A housekeeper-nanny and a farm manager. Free accommodation should ensure he got the best available and nothing but the best would do. If the couple had children, it would be a bonus. While he was making arrangements for Emmy to start school in the city, it was too far away to make out-of-school play dates easy. How much better would it be if she had company closer to home?
The sound of the television made Andrew frown as he let himself in through the front door of the magnificent old house. Why on earth was Emmy watching rubbish when she could be outside in the fresh air and enjoying the kind of exercise and surroundings that had been impossible in central London?
Finding the temporary nanny sound asleep on a couch in the small sitting room that had once been a library was a shock. Andrew snatched up the remote and killed the noise, staring at the young woman in disbelief and then automatically scouring the room for evidence of something worse than being simply asleep. Empty bottles? Syringes? Not that it made any difference. History was still repeating itself. He had apparently left his daughter in the care of someone who wasn’t competent enough to keep her safe, let alone care for her the way she deserved.
The sudden silence had been enough to wake Haylee.
‘Where’s Emmy?’ Andrew demanded.
‘She went to the loo.’
‘Oh?’ Andrew strode to the door, trying to calm down. ‘Emmy?’
He called again but he could feel the emptiness of the house as he stood in the vast hallway. His pace increased as he checked the cloakroom under the sweeping stairway. He took the stairs two at a time to reach the gallery that overlooked the foyer. He checked Emmy’s bedroom. His own room. He threw open door after door of rooms that didn’t even contain any furniture yet.
‘Emmy!’
Downstairs, he found Haylee standing near the kitchen, looking frightened.
‘How long were you asleep for?’
‘I…I’m not sure. Not long.’
Andrew brushed past her into the kitchen. Empty. Not even any sign of the pantry being raided for snacks. The old laundry was also empty. The back door was open.
‘She’s gone outside?’ Andrew tried to quell a spark of panic. ‘By herself?’
‘She won’t have gone far.’
‘How on earth would you know that? You don’t even have any idea how long you were asleep.’ Anger surfaced with a vengeance. ‘And how far do you think she would need to go to get into trouble? There’s a river out there, for God’s sake!’
‘I—I’ll help you look.’ Haylee looked ready to burst into tears.
‘No.’ Andrew didn’t spare the time to look back at the girl. She wasn’t to know that he was as angry with himself as he was with her but fear overrode any habit of kindness. ‘Get your things and go home, Haylee. I don’t want you looking after my daughter. You’re fired!’
He scanned the kitchen yard, with its clothes line and pattern of herb gardens surrounded by tall thick hedges that hadn’t been trimmed in years. The gateway set under an arch of greenery was overgrown. Almost invisible and only just ajar. Quite enough of a gap for a small girl to have squeezed through, however.
Andrew wrenched the gate open further.
‘Emmy!’
Good grief!
There was a small girl standing in Ben’s paddock. A very pretty little girl with a mop of blonde curly hair and big blue eyes that were gazing up at her in open admiration. Awe, even.
‘Jake!’
The warning was unnecessary. Her large dog had dropped to his haunches well away from the child. He put his nose on his front paws and prepared to wait patiently. Ben also seemed to realise that caution was advisable. He stopped, not even looking at the water trough beside the girl.
‘Hello,’ Alice said. ‘Who are you?’
‘Emmy.’
‘Hello, Emmy. I’mAlice.’
She swung her leg over Ben’s back and slid to the ground, pulling off her helmet and then grabbing the reins before Ben could think of stepping forward. This child was tiny. So fragile-looking close to Ben’s fluffy dinner-plate-sized hooves. Especially in that pretty pink dress with her long white socks.
‘I saw you,’ Emmy said. ‘From the window.’
‘Oh?’ Alice looked around, despite knowing perfectly well there were no windows nearby. This was getting weird.
‘Are you all by yourself?’
Emmy nodded. ‘Haylee’s asleep. She’s tired.’
Maybe Alice was too. Suffering from exhaustion. Or low blood sugar or something. Having some kind of delusional experience.
‘Are you a princess?’
Definitely delusional. ‘No.’
‘Is he magic?’
A tiny finger was pointing at Ben. Big blue eyes were looking up. Way up at the head of her horse. Something in the child’s expression was very familiar. The kind of longing she remembered from when she was that small. A longing that had become a dream of one day having her own pony.
Alice smiled. ‘He’s kind of magic,’ she said softly. ‘Because he makes good things happen. Would you like to pat him?’
Already big eyes widened dramatically and Alice could see the sudden tension in the small body. A flash of fear. She heard the deep breath Emmy sucked in and then saw a determined nod.
‘Yes, please.’
Brave kid. Alice held out her hand. ‘He wouldn’t hurt you. He loves children.’
The diminutive hand went trustingly into hers. ‘I’ll lift you up,’ Alice said, ‘so you can reach his neck. That’s the best place to pat him.’
Emmy’s fingers looked tiny and very pale against Ben’s black coat.
