‘Thanks for the stroll, Adam. I’m sure I’ll be repeating that many times.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ he murmured. Then, ‘D’you think you can find your way to your room?’ he enquired innocently.
Melody smiled ruefully. ‘I deserved that,’ she said. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Mel.’
Melody undressed quickly, washing and cleaning her teeth rapidly, before pulling back the duvet and collapsing into the feather-soft bed. It was heaven to lie down, and she was exhausted. What a day! Her head was so packed with thoughts and emotions that it felt as if thousands of insects were racing around, trying to find space. Almost at once her eyelids began to droop, and in her semi-doze Adam’s handsome features, with the stern, uncompromising mouth, loomed large. She didn’t know what to make of him, she thought. He didn’t like her much; she was certain of that. Although he was perfectly polite—even charming at certain moments—there was a coolness between them which she’d felt from the first moment.
Of course he was cross that she’d upset his friends’ plans…but what about her plans? This village was where she’d started life, and Poplars had been her mother Frances’s sole means of employment until she’d had Melody at the age of forty, when she’d promptly moved with her newborn child to the east end of London to live with a cousin. Melody had been twenty-two, in the middle of her Finals at university, when Frances had died suddenly. And in all those years Frances had never revealed who the father of her child was—had been so secretive about that part of her life that discussion on the matter had become almost a taboo subject. All she would ever tell her daughter was that she had loved deeply, only the once, and that certain things could not be spoken of, that some words were better left unsaid.
Melody had had to be content with that. But somewhere in this village there was a living part of her, part of her mother and the father she would never know, and somehow she knew that just by being here, breathing this air, she was completing her family circle so that she almost felt as if she was being embraced. So didn’t she, Melody, have her own very personal reasons for wanting to live here again, even on a part-time basis? Wasn’t she entitled to return to the family nest, to the village where her mother, too, had been born? How much more right did anyone need to belong here?
She turned over, flinging her arm across the pillow.
She opened her eyes and stared around the room for a moment. Her mother must have cleaned this place hundreds of times when she was housekeeper here, she thought. Servicing all these rooms and cooking for the Carlisle family, who’d owned Poplars for three generations, must have been desperately hard work. Melody’s eyes misted for a moment, thinking of Frances’s determination that her daughter should be qualified and independent. That education was the way up and the way out. So whatever life threw at her, her girl would always be able to stand on her own feet and follow her dreams. And that was what she was doing now!
In his own room on the ground floor, Adam slumped in an armchair by the window, feeling wide awake and knowing that he wasn’t likely to get to sleep easily. He knew he was still upset at letting the cottage slip through his fingers—and especially upset to lose it to a woman—a stranger to the village—who’d bought the place on a whim.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance at the thought that if he’d bid just once more he’d have won. But he’d already exceeded the stake he’d put in of his own money, to help his friends out, and hadn’t wanted to undermine Callum’s confidence by upping and upping the price unreasonably. Callum was such a straightforward, honest man, and he and Fee had already repaid every penny that Adam had lent them way back, when they’d first purchased Poplars. They’d worked so incredibly hard to be able to do that. Now this woman had sauntered in and stolen the cottage from under their noses.
After a few moments, his mind took another turn. He had to admit that Mel seemed much nicer than she’d appeared at first…not so damned sure of herself. His lip curled faintly. She’d jumped nearly a foot into the air when Tam had licked her leg, and he’d sensed her edginess a mile off! He paused in his thoughts. It must have been a terrible blow to be widowed so soon after her marriage—though she obviously had no financial worries, he mused. His eyes narrowed briefly. Maybe all was not lost, after all…
Was it just possible that he might be able to change the course of things, make her change her mind and sell it to his friends after all? It was a long shot—he knew that—but it was worth a try. Another place would come up sooner or later, if buying a country retreat was really what she wanted. He stood up restlessly. She was going to be here for a few weeks yet, so she’d said. That should be long enough for him, Adam Carlisle, to demonstrate his masculine powers of persuasion. But he’d have to be clever about it. This woman was worldly-wise, unlikely to be a push-over, in any circumstances—and she was intelligent and perceptive. She’d spot his motives a mile off if he went blundering in. No—softly, softly, with a dose of gentle cunning, might work. He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off. Something told him he was going to enjoy this!
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