His Defiant Mistress

‘You clean up pretty good, I must say,’ said Fred, handing her a half of cider. ‘I don’t think you’ve met Eddy’s son,’ he added, indicating the man who’d just come through into the bar. ‘Daniel, this is Miss Sarah Carver—the prettiest property developer in the business.’

Daniel Mason put up the flap to come round the bar and shake Sarah’s hand. Unlike his stocky father, he was tall and slim, with smooth fair hair and confident blue eyes. ‘I’m delighted to meet you,’ he said fervently.

Sarah smiled. ‘I haven’t seen you in here before.’

‘I’m London-based, but I’m down for a few days’ break from the city grind.’

‘He works in a bank,’ said Harry, his tone pejorative.

Daniel laughed. ‘But don’t hold that against me, Miss Carver.’

‘Sarah’s from London,’ Fred informed him. ‘But she’s not like any city girl you know. Brought up on a building site, weren’t you, my dear?’

‘Mostly,’ she admitted, and smiled. ‘Though I did go to school now and then.’

‘Maybe you could see what’s happened to our meals, Daniel,’ interrupted Harry.

‘Certainly,’ said the son of the house, unfazed. ‘Back in a minute.’

‘You watch that one,’ said Harry in an undertone. ‘He’s too clever by half.’

Since this was more or less the same comment he’d made about Alex Merrick, Sarah smiled, amused. It was obviously Harry’s general attitude towards the young and successful male.

When Daniel came back with their lunches he leaned on the other side of the bar while Sarah and Harry ate, asking about the project Sarah had just finished.

‘I didn’t do it on my own,’ she assued him. ‘I had Harry’s invaluable input all along, plus some from Mr Carter here, and from several other people Harry roped in along the way.’

Daniel raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought you were semi-retired, Mr Sollers?’

‘Miss Carver needed my help,’ said Harry flatly, and turned away to talk to Fred.

‘He doesn’t approve of soft city-types like me,’ said Daniel in an undertone, then grinned. ‘Though he’s best known for his disapproval of the female of the species, so how did you get him work to work for you?’

‘Harry works with me,’ Sarah said with emphasis. ‘Lucky for me he approved of my aim to restore the cottages rather than demolish them.’

‘Ah, I see! I’d like to see the result of your labours,’ he added. ‘May I come and marvel some time?’

‘By all means.’

‘Let me get you another drink.’

She shook her head, smiling. ‘I must get back.’

Harry turned back to her. ‘I’ll drop you off, boss, then I’m going to the vicarage to measure up the window Mrs Allenby wants replaced. I’ll get back to you after that and wait for Ian.’

‘No need, Harry. Just run me back now and I can do the waiting. I’ve got nothing planned for this afternoon. I’ll potter around in the gardens, then read until the night shift comes on.’

‘In that case maybe I’ll do a bit in my own garden.’ He lifted her down from the bar stool, and Sarah said a general goodbye to everyone, including Daniel, who smiled back with a warmth so marked that Harry teased her about it as they drove back.

Sarah felt restless as she wandered through the cottages later. It would be wonderful to sell the lot, even if it were to the Merrick Group. But work on them had taken up almost her entire life until recently, and she felt a sharp pang of regret at the thought of parting with them. Idiot! As Oliver so rightly said, if she were to make any kind of success there was no room for sentiment as a property developer, even for a fledgling one like herself. Though if money had been her only aim she could have sold the cottages to a buyer who’d offered for them before she’d even left London. But the offer had been so unrealistic she’d turned it down without a second thought.

Right now she just had to get through the rest of the day, hope the building inspection had gone well, and meet with Alex in the morning. Then, once the money was in her account, she could concentrate on getting the Westhope barn development off the ground. With this cheering thought in mind, Sarah curled up with her book and settled down to wait until her young security staff arrived.

A knock on the door brought Sarah to her feet, surprised. She’d been enjoying the book, but not so much that she wouldn’t have heard an approaching car. She opened the front door to find Daniel Mason smiling down at her.

‘Hello, Miss Sarah Carver. I fancied a stroll, so I took you at your word.’

CHAPTER FIVE

SARAH RETURNED the smile, not sorry for company on an afternoon which was already beginning to drag. ‘So you did, Daniel Mason. Come in. I’ll give you the tour.’

‘Thank you. Only I prefer Dan. May I call you Sarah?’

‘Of course.’

‘After you left,’ said Dan, as she took him round, ‘I was told all sorts of tall tales; how you do your own plastering and tiling and God knows what besides. That can’t possibly be true?’

‘Yes, all of it,’ she assured him. ‘But Harry saw to the basic, essential things required by the building survey. And he put in new windows and did all the finishing after I’d done my bit.’

‘And no one does it better than Harry Sollers. But he’s well known for preferring to work solo. So how come he agreed to work for—I mean with—you?’

‘I asked him and he said yes.’

Dan gave her a head-to-toe scrutiny rather too personal for comfort, and grinned. ‘Of course he did.’

Sarah turned to lead the way downstairs. ‘This is the only one I’ve furnished, but otherwise the houses are all the same.’

‘You’ve done an amazing job,’ he told her. ‘If they were in London they’d sell in a flash—and for a lot more than you’ll get down here. I’d like to stay a while, Sarah,’ he added. ‘Unless you’re busy?’

She could hardly say she was, since he’d spotted the open book. ‘For the first time in ages I’m not. I was reading when you came.’

‘Fred told me that you’ve got young Ian Sollers staying here at night. What time does he get here?’

‘About six, as a rule.’

‘What will you do after he gets here?’

‘Go home.’

‘And where’s home?’

‘You ask a lot of questions!’

He smiled. ‘It’s the quickest way to get answers.’

‘You could have asked around in the bar.’

Dan shook his head. ‘I was pretty sure you might not like that. Though I was told,’ he went on, ‘that you don’t socialise with the local lads. Why?’

‘It seemed best to steer clear of complications in a community like this.’

‘Is there a non-local man in your life?’

‘Yes. My godfather. They were pretty impressed at your pub because he wined and dined me at Easthope Court recently,’ she said lightly.

‘Well-heeled godfather, then!’

‘He’s a QC, and successful, so I suppose he must be. More important from my point of view, he takes his responsibilities as godfather very seriously. He wasn’t happy when I insisted on bidding for this lot,’ said Sarah wryly. ‘He doesn’t like my flat, either.’

‘At the address you didn’t give me,’ he reminded her.

‘It’s no secret. I live in Medlar House.’

‘Really?’ Dan grinned. ‘I used to go to dances there when it was a girls’ school.’

Another one! ‘They were obviously popular, those dances.’

‘I went to an all-male school. You bet they were popular.’ His eyes gleamed reminiscently. ‘Socialising with the Medlar House girls was one of the great perks of getting to the upper sixth in my place of learning, believe me.’

‘Oh, I do,’ she assured him.

Dan glanced at his watch. ‘Damn. Time I hiked back. I promised to give Dad a hand. But I’m free later, so will you have dinner with me, Sarah? Please?’

She looked at him thoughtfully. The evening promised to be long, with the prospect of tomorrow morning’s transaction hanging over her. And Dan Mason, though a lot too confident of his own charms for her taste, was here on a temporary basis, not a permanent fixture.

‘I can see you weighing up the pros and cons, so just for the record I’m happily unmarried,’ Dan informed her.

‘Then, thank you. Dinner it is.’ Why not? It would be a good way of passing what would otherwise be an interminable evening.

‘Great,’ said Dan, his smile a shade too smug for Sarah’s taste. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. Any preference for eating places?’

‘Not really—as long as it’s not Easthope Court.’

When Ian and Josie arrived with Nero, for their last evening as caretakers, Sarah thanked them warmly for their help.

‘We’ll miss coming here,’ said Josie wistfully.

‘If you need us somewhere else any time,’ added Ian, ‘you just have to say.’

‘I certainly will,’ Sarah promised him, and bent to give Nero a goodbye hug.

She felt quite wistful herself on the way back to the flat, but cheered up at the thought of going out. Not sure where Dan was likely to take her, she wore the tailored black linen trousers with their jacket over a cream silk camisole, and brushed her hair into a mass of loose curls. She was glad she’d taken the trouble when Dan came to collect her wearing a formal lightweight suit, topped by a look of deep approval which was highly gratifying.

‘You look wonderful,’ he told her.

‘Thank you. Where are we going?’

‘A London chef recently opened a country inn type restaurant a few miles from here. I thought you might like it.’

‘Sounds perfect—’ Sarah whistled as she spotted the banana-yellow Ferrari parked in the courtyard.

He patted the bonnet lovingly, then held the passenger door for her. ‘This baby is my reward for slaving long hours on a City trading floor. I won’t make you blush with my father’s comments. Boy’s toys and all that. And, as he says repeatedly, it’s not even necessary. I walk to the bank from my flat.’

Sarah laughed. ‘So when do you drive it?’

‘At weekends.’ He slanted a grin at her as he turned out into the road. ‘To some country hostelry—with a charming companion on board, of course.’

‘Of course. In the company I used to keep they were known as bird-pullers,’ she informed him.

‘Bird-pullers!’ he exclaimed, laughing. ‘Exactly what kind of company did you keep?’

‘The kind you get on building sites.’

As Dan had promised, the inn was picturesque. Baskets of flowers hung outside a rambling low building divided inside into several small dining rooms.

‘Choose anything you like from the menu. It’s all first class,’ Dan assured her.

He was right. But Sarah enjoyed the perfectly cooked sea bass rather more than Dan’s company while she ate. Because his conversation centred on his success in his job, and the bonuses which had enabled him to buy his expensive car and his equally expensive flat, she found her attention wandering, and surfaced guiltily to hear him describing a recent holiday in St Tropez. Her brief encounters with Alex Merrick had been stormy, she thought suddenly, but a lot more interesting. Though after tomorrow there would be no more encounters. She was unlikely to see Alex again once the sale had gone through.

‘That’s a very thoughtful expression in those big dark eyes, Sarah Carver,’ remarked Dan.

‘It seems odd to think that my first venture into property development is over,’ she said, smiling brightly.

‘Is a second on the cards?’

‘Of course. Once the sale of this one goes through.’

‘Something local?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’ Dan gave her his irritatingly cocky smile. ‘With you around I’ll be visiting the old folks more often in future.’

Sarah got up to leave. ‘Around doesn’t mean available.’

‘I put that badly,’ said Dan penitently, on their way to the car. ‘Have I shot myself in the foot?’

‘Not at all.’

‘Then let’s do this again. I’m here until the weekend. What day would suit you?’

‘Sorry. I’ll be too busy getting to grips with the new project.’

When they reached Medlar House Dan turned off the engine and undid his seat belt. ‘I’d love a look at your flat.’

She shook her head. ‘I have to be up early in the morning, so I’ll just say thank you for the meal and wish you goodnight, Dan.’

He bent his head to kiss her, but Sarah put a hand on his shoulder and held him off, then released the seat belt and got out of the car. ‘Thank you for dinner,’ she repeated, as he followed her to the door. ‘And for a pleasant evening.’

‘Pleasant!’ he repeated, an ugly set to his mouth. ‘You really know how to cut a guy down to size.’

She smiled as she put her key in the door. ‘Something you’re not used to, I imagine?’

‘No. Women like me as a rule.’ He eyed her, baffled. ‘I just wanted a kiss, for God’s sake.’

‘But I didn’t,’ said Sarah gently. ‘Goodnight.’

Odd, she thought later, as she got ready for bed. Dan Mason was good-looking, and obviously clever to have done so well in his career. But he seemed to feel that his possessions were his main attributes. And he was probably right, because for some reason the thought of having him kiss her had made her skin crawl. Tonight had been a mistake. It served her right for breaking her rule about socialising with anyone local. She should have spent the evening with her book. Now she’d have to stay away from the Green Man until he’d gone back to the loft apartment he’d described in such mind-numbing detail.

Sarah woke long before the alarm went off next morning, aware the moment she opened her eyes that this was a memorable day in her life. She had no doubt about what to wear. This occasion really did call for a suit. And not just any old suit she’d worn to the office, but the raspberry-red number she’d bought for the wedding of one of her former flatmate, a couple of months before. The jacket’s nipped-in waist and cleverly cut skirt were flattering, and with four-inch heels to give her height she could face up to Alex Merrick and whoever else he had on board.

By ten-thirty her solicitor hadn’t arrived, and Sarah was just about to take off without him when her doorbell rang. About time, she thought irritably as she lifted the receiver.

‘Sarah,’ said a familiar voice. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Oliver?’

‘Yes, darling. Charles Selby’s here, too, so come along.’

Sarah locked her door, then rushed out into the courtyard to embrace her godfather’s substantial person. ‘It’s so lovely to see you, but what on earth are you doing here?’

‘Is that the way to greet someone who rose at the crack of dawn to fly to your side?’ he asked, and kissed her cheek fondly, then looked her in the eye. ‘I wanted to make sure you hadn’t suffered a change of heart.’

She shook her head. ‘No. I haven’t.’

‘Good. In that case my professional support will do no harm. Selby here has no objection.’

‘Forgive my bad manners, Mr Selby.’ Sarah turned to him in remorse. ‘Good morning.’

The solicitor shook her hand, smiling. ‘Good morning, Miss Carver. I’ll follow you to the Merrick Group offices.’

Oliver ushered her into his Daimler, smiling rather smugly. ‘I didn’t mention my presence here beforehand, in case something unforeseen cropped up to prevent it. And my usual hotel room is free for me tonight, so I shall drive back first thing in the morning. You look utterly delightful, Sarah.’

‘Good to know, because it took work,’ she said with feeling, and beamed at Oliver. ‘Thank you so much for coming.’

The Merrick Group offices were housed a few miles away, in a purpose-built modern building surrounded by manicured gardens. The woman at a reception desk flanked by banks of greenery smiled in enquiry at their approach.

‘Miss Carver for Mr Merrick. These gentlemen are my lawyers,’ Sarah said grandly.

The receptionist rang through to report their arrival, then conducted them across a gleaming expanse of parquet to a trio of lifts, and told them where to find Mr Merrick’s office on the top floor.

Sarah grinned at Oliver as the lift doors closed on them. ‘What cheek, talking about my lawyers! I hope you didn’t mind.’

‘Since both Selby and I are lawyers, not at all,’ Oliver assured her.

‘A pity you couldn’t have worn your wig and gown,’ she said with regret. ‘Though you look impressive enough just the way you are.’

He was immaculate, as usual, his silver hair expertly styled, his superb three piece suit complete with watch chain. Mr Selby was similarly dressed, but his receding hair and smaller stature were no contest against the magnificence of Oliver Moore QC.

A tall young man in stylish spectacles greeted them as the lift doors opened on the top floor.

‘Good morning, Miss Carver. I’m Gregory Harris, Mr Merrick’s assistant.’

‘Good morning. This is my solicitor, Mr Charles Selby, also Mr Oliver Moore QC.’ A statement which impressed, just as she’d intended.

‘Good morning, gentlemen. Please follow me.’

Alex got to his feet as the trio followed Greg into his office, his eyes narrowing as he saw two men flanking the vision of elegance approaching his desk. She’d pulled a fast one again, by springing not just her solicitor but a Lincoln’s Inn Queen’s Counsel on him as well. ‘Good morning, Miss Carver—gentlemen. How nice to see you, Mr Moore.’

‘You too, my boy,’ said Oliver affably. ‘I come in loco parentis for Sarah. I trust you have no objection to my presence?’

‘None at all,’ said Alex, equally affable.

‘Good morning, Mr Merrick,’ said Sarah. ‘May I introduce Mr Charles Selby, my solicitor?’

There was a round of hand-shaking, including an introduction to Lewis Francis, the Merrick Group legal representative.

‘Coffee?’ suggested Alex.

Sarah opened her mouth to refuse, but Oliver nodded genially.

‘That would be very pleasant—I had an early start.’

And, instead of getting straight down to business, as she would have preferred, Sarah was forced to make pleasant conversation with Lewis Francis while coffee was consumed, along with croissants and French pastries, which Sarah refused. She was hard put to it to swallow the coffee, let alone try chomping on a pastry. It seemed an age before Greg Harris came in to clear away and they could finally get down to business.

‘Carry on then, Lewis,’ said Alex at last.

Lewis Francis opened the file in front of him. ‘All six houses on the property known as Medlar Farm Cottages met the standards of the building inspection, therefore the price remains as agreed privately by Miss Carver and Mr Merrick. This sum has now been paid into Miss Carver’s account, if she would like to check before signing the necessary documents.’

‘Ring your bank to confirm, Sarah,’ said Oliver casually.

Sarah took out her phone to do so, and felt a surge of pure adrenaline as she heard the new total. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s there.’

Eventually, when the contracts held the necessary signatures, and all was legally finalised even to Oliver’s satisfaction, instead of the expected relief Sarah felt an overpowering sense of anticlimax.

‘Congratulations, Miss Carver,’ Alex said, holding her hand a fraction longer than necessary after shaking it.

‘Thank you.’

‘May I ask if you have another project in mind?’

‘I do, yes.’

‘Locally?’

‘Yes.’

‘How interesting.’ He smiled his crooked smile, his eyes holding hers. ‘I wish you every success with it.’

‘Splendid,’ said Oliver, watching the exchange like a hawk. ‘I suggest I take everyone to lunch to celebrate.’

Due to other appointments, both solicitors regretfully declined, but Alex thanked Oliver warmly. ‘I know the very place.’

‘If you mean Easthope Court, Alex, I’d rather something more conventional at lunchtime,’ warned Oliver.

‘I promise you’ll like the place I have in mind, sir,’ Alex assured him. ‘And, to let us enjoy a celebratory glass of wine with our lunch, one of the company cars will take us there.’

Oliver sat up front with the driver on the journey, leaving Sarah alone in the back of the limousine with Alex.

‘You look dauntingly elegant today,’ he remarked in an undertone.

Sarah shot him a surprised look. ‘If that’s a compliment, thank you.’

‘You should always wear that colour.’

‘Not a good choice for a building site.’

‘Though as a matter of interest,’ he added casually, as though discussing the weather, ‘you look equally appealing in those overalls of yours.’

Sarah swallowed, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery. ‘Practical in my line of work.’

‘You didn’t tell me your godfather was joining us today.’

‘I didn’t know. He turned up this morning as a surprise.’

He slanted a narrow look at her. ‘When I saw we had the benefit of Queen’s Counsel at the meeting I assumed you didn’t trust me.’

‘Not at all,’ she returned. ‘Mr Selby’s presence was quite enough. Having Oliver along was just a bonus. It was good to have the support of a relative.’

‘I thought he was just your godfather?’

She shook her head. ‘He’s also my mother’s cousin, and they were as close as brother and sister, so Oliver’s been in my life since I was born. He’s a very hands-on godfather. Though he disapproves of my way of earning my living. When you first saw us at Easthope Court that night he was doing his best to persuade me to take a secretarial job in his chambers.’

Alex grinned broadly. ‘How did you react to that?’

‘Predictably.’ Sarah sighed. ‘I keep telling him he shouldn’t worry so much about me.’

‘Then I assume you didn’t mention your idea of acting as your own security guard?’

Sarah shook her head vigorously, and laid a finger on her lips. ‘Don’t rat on me. Please!’

Chatting to Alex had been so unexpectedly easy for once that she hadn’t noticed where they were heading, until the car turned into the forecourt of the inn Dan Mason had taken her to the night before.

‘This looks very inviting,’ said Oliver in approval as Alex helped Sarah out. ‘I wonder if they do a good steak here.’

‘They certainly do,’ Alex assured him, then smiled as the chef himself appeared to welcome them. ‘Hi, Stephen.’

‘Back again, Alex? I must be getting something right.’

‘We want something special today, my friend. It’s a celebration.’

Stephen Hicks shot an appreciative look at Sarah. ‘What kind?’

‘Business deal. Let me introduce you…’

They were settled at their table before Sarah finally managed to say her piece. ‘Oddly enough,’ she said to Oliver, ‘I had a meal here last night.’

‘Did you, darling?’ He looked at Alex, who shook his head regretfully.

‘Not with me, alas.’

‘Dan Mason from the Green Man brought me,’ said Sarah, irritated to feel her colour rise.

Alex’s mouth turned down. ‘Son of the landlord and our local Wunderkind. He’s quite a lad, our Daniel.’

‘With women?’ said Oliver sharply.

‘Probably,’ Alex agreed. ‘But actually I meant that he’s a prodigy in the brain department. We went to the same school, but my interests were cricket and rugby while Dan sailed through every exam and took a first in Maths at Oxford.’

‘But you went to Cambridge. Your father was very proud of that,’ observed Oliver.

Alex smiled. ‘My academic results weren’t that spectacular.’

‘But of course they didn’t matter,’ said Sarah. ‘You had a tailor-made career waiting for you.’

His smile faded. ‘Yes,’ he agreed shortly.

‘Now, then,’ said Oliver quickly, perusing the menu. ‘Let’s get down to the serious business of food. What did you have last night, Sarah?’

‘Sea bass,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘It was wonderful.’

‘Stephen does an excellent rib-eye steak with oyster sauce, sir,’ said Alex, and looked at Sarah. ‘I had that last night.’

‘You were here?’ she said, startled.

‘Yes. But, having interrupted your lunch once before at the Green Man, it seemed best not to incur your wrath by intruding on your dinner with Dan.’