‘I expect Rafe Caffarelli will do a very tasteful conversion,’ Chloe put in. ‘I checked out some of his other developments online. He’s big on keeping things in context architecturally. He draws up most of the preliminary plans himself.’
Poppy was still on her soapbox and wasn’t stepping down any time soon. The thought of the paparazzi hiding in the hedges in her beloved village to get their prized shot of hedonistic celebrities partying up at the manor was sickening. ‘Lord Dalrymple will be spinning in his grave if this preposterous project goes ahead. What was his cousin thinking of, selling to a developer? Why couldn’t they have sold to a private family instead? Another family could bring life and vibrancy to the place instead of filthy rich people wining and dining and partying at all hours.’
‘You really love that old place, don’t you?’
Poppy blew out a long breath. ‘I know it sounds ridiculously sentimental but I think Dalrymple Manor needs a family to make it come alive again. It’s spent the last sixty years grieving. You can feel the sadness when you walk in there. It’s almost palpable. The stairs creak with it, sometimes even the foundations groan with it.’
Chloe’s eyes rounded. ‘Are you saying it’s haunted?’
‘I used to think so when I was a kid, but no, it’s just a sad old place that needs to be filled with love and laughter and family again.’
‘Maybe Rafe Caffarelli will settle down there with one of his lovers,’ Chloe suggested.
‘I can’t see that happening,’ Poppy said with an expression of disdain. ‘He doesn’t keep a lover more than a month or two. Playboys like him don’t settle down, they just change partners.’
Chloe gave her a speculative look. ‘So I take it I’m not the only one who’s done a little online searching on the illustrious Rafe Caffarelli?’
Poppy went back to the kitchen with her head at a haughty height. ‘I’m not the least bit interested in what that man does or who he does it with. I have much better things to do with my time.’
* * *
Just before lunch Mr Underwood, Poppy’s landlord, came in to the tearoom. He usually came in on a Friday afternoon for a cup of tea and a slice of the cake of the day. Poppy desperately hoped this Tuesday visit wasn’t a business one. She had a list of expenses to see to on the dower house. The place needed painting inside and out, and the garden needed urgent attention. There was an elm tree close to her bedroom that needed lopping as it was keeping her awake at night with its branches scratching at the window. Even a modest rise in rent at the shop would just about cripple her financially now.
‘Your usual, Mr Underwood?’ she said with a bright and hopeful smile.
‘Er, can I have a word, Poppy?’ John Underwood asked.
‘Sure.’ Poppy’s smile tightened on her face. Please don’t ask for more rent.
‘I thought I should let you know I’ve been made an offer on the building,’ John said. ‘It’s a good one, the best I’ve had, so I’m going to take it.’
She frowned. ‘But I didn’t realise you were even thinking of selling.’
‘I’ve been toying with the idea for a while. Jean wants to travel a bit more. We’ve got three young grandchildren in the States now and we want to spend a bit more time with them. I’m selling this building and another investment property I have in Shropshire.’
Poppy felt suspicion move up her spine like a file of sugar ants. ‘Who made the offer?’
‘I’m not at liberty to say,’ he said. ‘The buyer insisted on total confidentiality until all the paperwork is done.’
She pursed her lips as the rage simmered inside her. ‘I just bet he did.’
John looked uncomfortable. ‘I didn’t want to do the wrong thing by you, Poppy. You and Chloe are the best tenants I’ve had. But at the end of the day this is a business decision. It’s not personal.’
Oh yes it is, Poppy thought sourly. ‘We’ve still got another year on the lease. That won’t change, will it?’
‘Not unless the new owner wants to redevelop.’
‘Did he say what he intended to do with it?’
‘No, he just seemed really keen to acquire this particular building. He said he instantly fell in love with its old-world charm.’
‘Ruthless’ didn’t even come close to describing Rafe Caffarelli, Poppy thought. He was clever and calculating, much more than she had realised. But she wasn’t going down without a fight. There was no way she was going to let him have things all his own way. Did he really think he could twist her arm? Blackmail her into his bed by charging her an outrageously high rent? What sort of woman did he think she was? ‘Will the new owner expect a rise in rent, do you think?’
‘You’d have to discuss that with him.’
She gave him an ironic look. ‘How can I if he wants to remain anonymous?’
‘I expect the rent will be handled through an agency,’ John said. ‘Anyway, I just thought I should let you know I’ve sold. I’m not one for keeping secrets but he seemed to think it was necessary.’
Poppy ground her teeth behind her tight smile. ‘I’m sure he has his reasons.’
She stalked out to the kitchen once John Underwood had left. ‘Grrrh! I’m going to punch him on the nose. I’m going to scratch his eyes out. I’m going to give him a black eye. I’m going to kick him in the you-know-where.’
Chloe blinked in confusion. ‘But I thought you liked Mr Underwood. What’s he done—put up the rent or something?’
‘Not Mr Underwood,’ Poppy said through clenched teeth. ‘Rafe Caffarelli. He’s bought the shop. I know it’s him, even though Mr Underwood didn’t actually say so. It’s supposed to be a secret. And I know why—Rafe Caffarelli wants to blackmail me into his bed.’
Chloe’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. ‘Hey, have I missed something somewhere? Back up a little bit. Did you say he wants to sleep with you? Did he actually say that out loud?’
‘Not in as many words, but I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at me.’ Poppy clenched her hands into fists. ‘I won’t do it.’
‘I’ll do it,’ Chloe said. ‘What are you thinking, Poppy? He’s gorgeous. He’s rich. He’s everything a woman could want in a man.’
Poppy set her mouth. ‘Not this woman.’
‘You’re mad,’ Chloe said. ‘What would it hurt to have a little fling with him? He would probably give you heaps and heaps of ridiculously expensive jewellery at the end of it. You could sell them and retire.’
Poppy threw her a look of reproach. ‘I had no idea you were so shallow.’
Chloe shrugged. ‘Not shallow, just pragmatic. Think about it. When are you going to get the chance to move in his sort of circles? It’d be worth it just for
