fishing about in the murky shallows for baby crabs. After Charlie had diligently counted their catch, they conscientiously dropped them back into the water again.
On the journey home, her exuberant son fell fast asleep in his car seat, worn out by his afternoon’s activities. At last Sophia could mull over the man who so persistently seemed to want to get to know her. She didn’t doubt that he had great ability to charm the ladies. How could he not, with that carved handsome face, those flawless blue eyes and a voice that was mellifluous and compelling?
As she took the road out of the village that led almost straight to High Ridge Hall, she wondered why Jarrett would take the trouble to deliver an invitation to his sister’s ‘little get-together’ by hand? Was it because he wanted to get a chance to look more closely at the house? The idea deflated her and she didn’t know why. She knew that High Ridge had always held a fascination not just for local people but also for passing ramblers. The imposing early nineteenth-century edifice demanded more than just a fleeting glance. Her great-aunt had often had to contend with strangers knocking on the door to enquire after its history.
The idea of her elderly relative giving short shrift in response to those enquiries brought an instant smile to Sophia’s lips. It also reminded her of the great responsibility of taking care of such a house. With the proceeds from the sale of the house she’d shared with her husband and a not insubstantial part of her inheritance from her aunt already gone to help pay off his debts, it was vital that she was able to revive the photographic career that had promised to take off when she’d left college. The career that when she’d had Charlie she’d foolishly and naively put aside, to be the stay-at-home wife and mother that her husband had demanded she be.
A residence the size and importance of High Ridge demanded that she earn a healthy income to maintain it. What little money that was left from her inheritance after all her outgoings were met wasn’t going to last very long. Thankfully she’d kept a note of some of the contacts she’d made after leaving college, and had already been in touch with two very interested parties who liked the sample photos she’d sent them.
Her thoughts gravitated back to Jarrett. The idea of him using his sister’s invitation to seize a chance to view the house at close quarters seriously bothered Sophia. She didn’t know if that had been his motivation for a fact, but still she preferred the notion that it was her company he sought and not a closer acquaintance with her home. Warning herself not to forget even for a second that she’d sworn off relationships with men for good after enduring the living nightmare that had been her marriage, she determinedly buried the familiar feelings of failure and loneliness and reaffirmed her vow to put any further thoughts of Jarrett Gaskill aside.
Feeling somewhat calmer at this resolve, she carefully transported her still sleeping son inside the house. Settling him down on the threadbare old couch, she decided to let him doze for a little longer … at least until she’d prepared their dinner.
To please his sister, Jarrett did what she told him he was so naturally adept at and effortlessly mingled and chatted to her and her husband’s friends at the little soirée she’d arranged—even though he secretly hated it. He did enough schmoozing at the corporate functions and meetings relating to his property business without replicating the behaviour in his supposed free time.
It was rare that he had a weekend off, and when he did he much preferred to be left to his own devices. He liked to take long walks in the countryside surrounding his house, listen to opera on his state-of-the-art music centre or catch up on the stack of films he had missed at the cinema because he’d inevitably been working. Yet agreeing to be sociable with his sister’s friends and neighbours wasn’t the only reason that he’d agreed to be present at her house this warm spring Saturday afternoon. All week Jarrett had hardly been able to think about anything but seeing Sophia Markham again. He couldn’t forget the sight of her beautiful emerald eyes bathed in tears. It troubled him that she might be sad or lonely, yet if he was honest underneath his compassion he couldn’t help wondering if there might be a way to persuade her to sell High Ridge to him. Painting her sitting room by herself didn’t suggest that money was exactly plentiful, he mused. And if she agreed to entertain the idea of selling he would pay her a more than fair price.
His hopes lifting, Jarrett looked forward even more to seeing Sophia again. But the get-together had been underway for almost two hours and he was getting bored. There was only so much inconsequential chitchat he could bear, even for his sister, and there was still no sign of Sophia, although Beth assured him that she’d rung to say she was coming.
He was just debating whether to go up to the house and check to see if anything was amiss when the doorbell’s familiar cheery melody chimed through the hallway. As luck would have it he was standing in the vicinity, endeavouring to listen attentively to his brother-in-law Paul’s enthusiastic description of the new car he was going to buy. Privately he thought it was a bad choice, and he had just been thinking he would have a quiet word with Beth about it so she could nudge him in the direction of something better when the doorbell had rung. Without a flicker of guilt he moved down the hall to answer it. His body was already tightening warmly in anticipation of seeing High Ridge’s lovely new owner again.
‘Hi … I’m sorry if we’re a little late.’
The statement came out in a breathless rush, and Sophia Markham’s apologetic smile as he opened the door rendered him almost speechless because it was so bewitching.
Waiting patiently for his response, she drew Charlie protectively against her side. It wasn’t hard to see that the child meant the sun, moon and stars to her.
Staring at her as she stood before him, in faded jeans, colourful knitted tank-top and long unbuttoned navy blue cardigan, he likened her appearance to a breath of longed-for fresh air that a prisoner might greedily gulp down when he’d been freed from solitary confinement. Today her pretty dark hair hadn’t been left loose to flow down over her shoulders—instead she’d fashioned it into two very becoming braids. In contrast, the other women at the small party had seized the opportunity to show off their wardrobes and were dressed up to the nines. Personally, Jarrett thought such a brash display was unnecessary and over the top. He himself had dressed in a casual white shirt and black jeans faded almost to grey—his usual mode of attire when he wasn’t at work—and he was very glad to see that Sophia had opted to do the same.
‘Don’t worry about being late … Beth will kill me for saying it, but you’ve haven’t exactly missed anything. It’s good to see you.’ After speaking at last, he grinned, then leaned down to squeeze Charlie’s shoulder. ‘It’s good to see you too, Charlie. Why don’t you both come inside?’
‘Hello, there, I’m Paul Harvey—Beth’s husband. How nice to meet you at last, Ms Markham.’
‘And you, Mr Harvey.’
‘Call me Paul.’
Sophia didn’t invite the other man to call her by her first name in return, Jarrett noticed, silently approving. He had no earthly right to feel so possessive towards her, but for reasons he couldn’t begin to explain he did.
‘Let’s go and meet everyone,’ he suggested, gesturing for her and her son to precede him.
The conversations that littered the air as they walked in abruptly ceased as Jarrett escorted Sophia into the stylishly furnished living room. Even the softly playing jazz emanating from the music centre seemed to grow quieter. His sister Beth immediately peeled herself away from the trio of women she’d been deep in conversation with and presented herself to her new guest with an enthusiastic handshake, followed by the characteristic peck on the cheek with which she greeted all her friends.
‘Hi,
