smiled back at her. ‘Thank you.’
Bella didn’t quite dare look at Hugh as she scooped Sophia out of the high chair and then settled the baby on her lap. But Sophia clearly enjoyed being bounced to ‘Humpty Dumpty’ and ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’ and the other nursery songs Bella could remember, and she was gurgling with delight when Julian picked her up from Bella’s lap again.
‘Eat your bacon sandwich before it gets cold,’ he said, patting her shoulder. ‘And thank you for cheering up Miss Grumpy here.’
‘Any time,’ Bella said with a smile.
‘Can I help with the washing up?’ Bella asked when she’d finished her sandwich.
Libby shook her head. ‘No, sweetie. Thank you for the offer, but it’s fine.’
‘The kitchen is Ma’s domain,’ Nigel explained.
‘My mum’s the same, except we all pitch in and help when we have family over for lunch, because it’s really not fair to make someone peel all the veg on their own,’ Bella said.
‘Well, if you really want to, you can help me with the veg,’ Libby conceded. ‘But let Hugh show you round first.’
‘Hint taken,’ Hugh said and stood up. ‘Come on, Bella.’
She took his hand and let him lead her out of the kitchen.
He dropped her hand again, the minute they were out of sight. ‘Guided tour,’ he said, and proceeded to whisk her through the house. The house was glorious, with mullioned windows upstairs and floor-to-ceiling windows downstairs.
‘Hugh,’ she said when he’d taken her swiftly through the library, not even letting her browse a single shelf in the acres of shelving.
‘What?’
‘What did I do wrong?’ she asked.
‘Nothing.’ But his voice was clipped.
She sighed. ‘Was it because I cuddled the baby? I like babies, Hugh. And I like your family.’
‘You’re meant to be unsuitable,’ he reminded her.
‘Even unsuitable girlfriends can like babies.’
‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘Drawing room.’ There were comfortable chairs and amazing artwork on the walls, and a den with a state of the art television and music system.
‘Dining room.’
She’d already seen this the previous day, and the ballroom—though it was much less intimidating now it was empty. She was almost tempted to ask him to play something for her on the piano, something soft and gentle for a Sunday morning, but there was an odd expression on his face and she didn’t quite dare.
So much for the Vegas principle. He was clearly finding it hard to ignore what had happened between them.
And that was probably why he didn’t show her the orangery in daylight. It would’ve been too much of a reminder of how reckless they’d been.
‘Do you want your family to think we’ve had a fight?’ she asked when he’d finished the tour and was leading her back to the kitchen.
‘Fight? Oh.’ The penny clearly dropped, and he took her hand again.
Except it felt grudging.
Considering that he’d been the one to come up with the idea of the unsuitable girlfriend in the first place, Bella wanted to shake him by the scruff of his neck. ‘You have to be the most difficult man in the universe,’ she muttered.
He didn’t disagree with her. And she had the nasty feeling that she was going to be looking for another job, pretty soon. She just hoped that Tarquin would give her a decent reference—she certainly wasn’t going to ask Hugh. And she wasn’t telling Grace about any of this. So much for standing on her own two feet and getting her life in shape. She’d just messed up again. Big time.
In the kitchen, everyone was still drinking coffee.
Libby looked at her shoes. ‘You need to borrow some wellingtons, Bella, or you’ll risk ruining those lovely shoes.’
‘I guess they’re probably not that suitable for a walk in the garden,’ she said, playing Miss Ditzy—though her heart really wasn’t in this any more.
‘Hugh will find you something in the boot room,’ Oliver said.
She blinked. ‘You have a room just for boots?’ Hugh hadn’t shown her that.
‘It’s for boots, coats and muddy dogs to dry off in,’ Hugh explained.
The boot room turned out to be just off the kitchen. The room had a stone chequered floor that reminded Bella a bit of the orangery, teamed with white tongue and groove panelling on the cabinets. There were shelves of wellington boots, pegs for coats, and a couple of wicker picnic baskets on shelves; there were also a washing machine and tumble dryer, and she guessed that there would be an iron and ironing board in one of the cupboards.
Hugh checked her shoe size and came up with a pair of green wellington boots and an ancient waxed jacket that was too big for her. ‘You’ll need socks,’ he said, and rummaged in one of the wicker baskets for an old but clean pair of what looked like rugby socks.
And at least borrowing a jacket meant she had pockets to shove her hands into and she wouldn’t have the temptation of being hand-in-hand with Hugh—or the awkwardness if she tried to hold his hand and he rejected her, which she thought would be the most likely outcome.
Hugh’s brothers and their partners all joined them on the walk, along with Sophia in her pushchair, and the dogs romped along happily beside them.
‘So we’re going for a walk in the nearby woods or something?’ she asked.
Hugh nodded. ‘They’re part of the estate.’
Well, of course a huge manor house like this would come with an estate rather than just a garden. How stupid of her not to think of that before.
But her awkwardness turned to delight when they walked through the narrow paths in the woods and she could see bluebells everywhere. ‘That’s gorgeous!’
‘It’s still a bit early for them yet,’ Hugh said, ‘but they’re like a blue haze when they’re fully out.’
‘A real bluebell carpet—how lovely,’ she said. It made her itch to sit out here with a pad of cartridge paper and a box of watercolours. ‘I love the colour of new leaves, that really bright lime-green that means spring’s really here.’
‘Yeah.’
Somehow, Hugh was holding her hand again, and it sent a shiver of pure desire through her.
He met her gaze. ‘I’m not coming on to you,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Everyone will expect me to hold my girlfriend’s hand.’
‘Of course,’ she said, but she had to swallow her disappointment. Which
