The Bachelor's Bargain. Jessica Steele

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The Bachelor's Bargain - Jessica Steele Mills & Boon Cherish

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checked that she didn’t have a hair out of place, and, by using avoidance tactics, managed to get out of the house untouched by small, but inquisitive jammy fingers.

      She parked near to where Jarad Montgomery lived, but owned to feeling on edge when walking to his house, she had to pass the spot where she had been set upon two days ago. Telling herself not to be silly, she was nevertheless glad to make it to Jarad Montgomery’s front door. She rang the bell, and waited.

      Jarad Montgomery himself opened the door, though why her heart should pick up a beat when she saw him, she had no idea. Probably because he looked a shade surprised to see her there. Had he forgotten she was going to call today?

      She thought she should remind him. ‘You said I should come and see you today,’ she began quietly, when all of a sudden she saw that two women, both carrying handbags, and clearly on their way out, were coming along the hall behind him. One of the women was touching sixty, the other was somewhere in her early thirties, Merren judged. Both were smartly and expensively dressed. ‘I’ve called at an inconvenient time,’ Merren began to apologise as the two ladies halted at his shoulder.

      ‘Not at all,’ Jarad was beginning smoothly, when he glanced from her to the two females who were positively beaming at him. He paused for the briefest of moments, then, glancing back to Merren, he was suddenly all smiles himself as he stated, ‘This is a delightful surprise,’ and, while she stared at him—delightful?—he was going on, ‘I hadn’t expected to see you before this evening.’

      He’d thought she would call that evening to discuss the money she owed him? Well, she didn’t want to discuss it in front of these other people, that was for sure. Merren took a tiny step back, but before she could tell him that she would call later, that perhaps she should have telephoned first, he had taken a swift hold of her upper arm and was drawing her closer to his front door.

      ‘Don’t be shy.’ He was smiling. Shy? ‘My mother and sister are just leaving, but come and say hello to them before they go.’ And before Merren could do more than think his manners were truly outstanding, she found herself in the hall with him, the front door closed, as he made the introductions.

      ‘I’m so pleased to see you, Merren,’ his mother beamed; her manners, Merren swiftly realised, every bit as outstanding as her son’s.

      ‘Do you live in London?’ his sister, Veda Partridge, smilingly wanted to know.

      ‘Surrey.’

      ‘Do you and Jarad often get to meet?’ Mrs Montgomery enquired pleasantly.

      ‘Mother!’ Jarad inserted warningly. ‘We saw each other yesterday, and the day before that, but I wouldn’t have told you anything about Merren had I thought you’d give her the third degree.’ And while Merren went a pretty pink, because Jarad had obviously told his mother and sister that he’d loaned her some money, his mother suddenly seemed overjoyed by what he had just said.

      ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ Mrs Montgomery apologised earnestly. ‘I’ve made you blush,’ she added, and, to Merren’s amazement, she kissed her cheek and said hurriedly, ‘We’re going before I embarrass you further.’

      ‘Bye, Merren,’ Veda smiled.

      ‘You must come down to Hillmount as soon as you can,’ his mother invited, and while Merren stood there—it didn’t seem to her to be very polite to suggest that the Montgomery family were a touch on the strange side—mother and daughter bade Jarad goodbye and went cheerfully from his home.

      Jarad closed the door after them and guided Merren into the drawing room she had barely taken in last Thursday. It was high-ceilinged, elegant, with several extremely good oil paintings adorning the walls, and yet was a comfortable room with its well-padded sofas and scattering of chairs and low tables.

      ‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said, as he invited her to take a seat.

      She opted for one of the easy chairs, and he did the same. ‘I know I’m in no position to mind, but I’d have preferred it had you not told your family about the money,’ Merren responded, to what she thought was his apology for discussing the matter with his mother and sister.

      She was therefore a little shaken when he denied that he had done any such thing. ‘Anything to do with that money is just between you and me,’ he asserted evenly.

      Merren stared at him. ‘You didn’t mention it in any way?’ Looking steadily at her, he shook his head. She owned she was puzzled. ‘Then—what was that “I wouldn’t have told you anything about Merren” about? You must have told them something about…’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Were you meaning you told them about me being mugged? Though that doesn’t…’

      ‘That doesn’t explain why my mother and sister would be ready to give you the third degree,’ he took over. ‘I’m afraid, Merren,’ he went on pleasantly, ‘that your timing today could have been better. Though I must say your blush was right on cue.’

      ‘Is everybody in your family eccentric?’ she enquired nicely, the fog getting thicker instead of clearing.

      ‘My father, bless his heart, keeps strictly out of it. I wish,’ he muttered, ‘that I were allowed to do the same.’

      ‘You mentioned explaining.’

      ‘I’m not doing a very good job, am I?’ He looked at her, smiled at her—it was rather a nice smile she thought—and she waited. ‘So here goes,’ Jarad continued, and went on, ‘For years now my mother—my sister holds the same view—has been of the opinion that I should marry and settle down.’

      ‘You’re not married?’ Merren queried, feeling oddly content that it should be so. Weird—that mugging Thursday had a lot to answer for.

      ‘Never felt the need,’ he replied. ‘To be frank, I very much enjoy my life just as it is.’

      ‘You don’t feel at all that you’re missing anything?’ He didn’t answer, but thinking about it, his home, his position on the board of Roxford Waring, and glancing at him—a good-looking, all virile male—there was no need for him to answer—he had it all. ‘That was a dumb question,’ she granted. ‘Your mother doesn’t know your views about…’

      ‘Oh, she knows. I’ve repeatedly told her. But that’s never stopped her from doing a trawl of her friends every now and then for likely daughters, nieces, friends of daughters, friends of nieces—it’s been hell!’

      Shame. ‘There must have been one or two acceptable ones.’

      ‘Acceptable for what? If I’d given in and taken just one of them out, my mother would have been wondering what to give us for an engagement present!’

      ‘As bad as that?’

      ‘Believe it. Though,’ he conceded, ‘things did get a little better when Piers left university and came here to live with me.’

      ‘Your mother thought it better that you looked after him?’

      ‘That too, of course. But mainly she saw that if she was wasting her time with me, then Piers was just coming up to marriageable age. Piers is fifteen years younger than me. Love my mother though I do, I loved her more when she started to leave me alone and give Piers the treatment. Though in his case it was granddaughters of friends and great-nieces who were brought out for inspection.’

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