Will He Ask Her to be His Bride?: The Millionaire's Convenient Bride / The Millionaire's Proposal / Texas Ranger Takes a Bride

‘Will you see him again?’ said Connor, seized with a sudden desire to rearrange the actor’s angelic face.

‘I doubt it. If Keir makes a success of his part in the series—which he will because, pretty face or not, he’s a brilliant actor—he’s bound to get more offers over there. If things go well for him, I doubt that he’ll come back to this country any time soon.’ Hester smiled crookedly. ‘Believe me, it was no romance. Keir was out of work, short of funds and I was right there, captive company for him every evening. The bird in the hand.’

Connah gave her a searching look. ‘If you’d gone with the Herricks to LA you could have gone on seeing McBride. Why did you refuse?’

‘It was too far away from my family. Also, at that stage Keir was based in the UK and wanted us to see something of each other now and then. But in the end he went off to LA too.’ Hester shrugged. ‘At which point I answered a couple of advertisements for temporary summer jobs and one of them was yours.’

‘Which is my great good fortune—and Lowri’s.’ He frowned. ‘You do so much more than just look after her, I should be paying you a far larger salary than I do.’

‘Certainly not,’ she said promptly. ‘A free holiday in a place like this is recompense enough.’

‘I wouldn’t call it free exactly,’ he said dryly. ‘Looking after Lowri is no sinecure.’

‘But I enjoy it. If I didn’t, I’d be in the wrong job, Connah!’

‘At last,’ he said in triumph. ‘You finally brought yourself to say my name.’

She hadn’t brought herself to it at all. His name had tripped off her tongue all too easily. Probably because here in this starlit, scented garden the world they’d left behind could have been on another planet.

‘I wonder how Sam’s getting on,’ she said idly.

‘After I rang my mother to tell her we’d arrived I gave Sam a call while you were putting Lowri to bed. All’s well in the house and Sam was about to take a stroll down to his local for a pint. I thought he’d have seized the chance of a holiday abroad somewhere, but apparently he had his fill of globe-trotting when he was in the army. He prefers Albany Square in peace and quiet on his own.’

‘So he told me.’ To her embarrassment, Hester was suddenly overwhelmed by a huge yawn.

Connah smiled. ‘You’re tired. I’m sorry to lose your company, but I think it’s time you went to bed, Hester. You’ll have a full day tomorrow—as usual.’

Hester rose at once to assert herself in housekeeper role before she lost sight of why she was really here. ‘I’ll take these glasses into the kitchen on my way. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight, Connah,’ he corrected.

‘Goodnight, Connah,’ she repeated obediently.

‘Much better,’ he said, and gave her the smile which knocked her defences flat.

The following day was spent as planned—swimming, reading or just lazing in the sun. Connah joined Hester and Lowri for their morning swim, then retreated to his room afterwards to ring his mother again. She assured him she was feeling better and asked to speak to Lowri. He beckoned from his balcony and the child came running upstairs to chatter happily to her grandmother about the Casa Girasole and the wonderful time she was having with Daddy and Hester.

‘Lowri sounds very happy, Connah,’ said his mother, when Lowri had raced back down to the garden. ‘Miss Ward is obviously doing an excellent job with her.’

‘So much so that I’m not looking forward to the day she leaves us.’

‘Lowri will be in school soon after that. And next school holiday, God willing, I shall be fit enough to take charge of my granddaughter myself.’

‘Of course you will,’ he said firmly, and wished he could believe it. ‘With that in mind, take good care of yourself, Mother. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow.’

Connah returned to his small balcony to look down at the pool. Hester was lying back in a garden chair under an umbrella, listening as Lowri perched at her feet to read aloud from one of the books provided by the school for the summer holiday. He smiled wryly. He wouldn’t have thought of bringing the books with them, but Hester had produced one straight after the morning swim. And Lowri had begun reading without the slightest protest. Whatever Hester wanted, Lowri would do, Connah realised. It was a disturbing thought. He rubbed his chin, frowning. Lowri had been fond of Alice, who had been a fixture all her young life and taken for granted. But because Lowri had settled to life away at school so well there’d been no problem when Alice left to get married.

The situation with Hester was very different. Lowri had grown attached to her so quickly she would miss Hester desperately when the time came to part. And so, by God, would he! Thrusting the thought from his mind, Connah put the phone in his pocket and went downstairs to tell Flavia that she could take the following day off; they would bring food home with them from Greve for supper. Flavia thanked him, beaming, explaining that the unexpected holiday gave her the opportunity to visit her niece. Connah then went out to the pool to tell Lowri about the proposed outing.

‘Brilliant,’ said his daughter, delighted. ‘I can buy postcards to send to Grandma, and Moira and Robert, and Chloe and Sam. Gosh, my throat’s dry. I’ve been reading so long I’m thirsty.’

‘I’ll get you a drink,’ said Hester, getting up, but Lowri pushed her back in her chair.

‘I can get it myself, and practice my Italian on Flavia at the same time.’ She ran off, long legs flying, and Connah took her place beside Hester.

‘She’s growing up before my eyes. It’s frightening. But should she be on first name terms with your parents?’

‘It was their idea,’ Hester assured him.

‘Good. By the way, I told Flavia to take the day off tomorrow.’

‘No problem. I can cook.’

‘No cooking. We’ll buy food for a cold supper while we’re in Greve.’

Hester smiled her thanks. ‘Is that the kind of thing you did when your mother shared your holiday?’

Connah shook his head. ‘Mother’s holiday of choice is a fully-catered hotel in Devon or Tenby in Wales. She doesn’t like flying. And we rarely stayed more than ten days or so.’

Hester sat up, surprised. ‘But Lowri told me she’d been to France last year.’

‘That was a school trip. My mother thought she was far too young to go, but I find it hard to refuse Lowri anything. So far her demands have been easy to meet.’ His face darkened. ‘As she gets older, things will change.’

‘Don’t worry too much. I think Lowri knows exactly where to draw the line.’

He smiled crookedly. ‘I discovered that for myself last week when you were out. She played me like a fish at bedtime until I blew the whistle.’

Lowri came racing back to tell them Flavia said lunch would be ready in ten minutes.

‘How did you understand what she said?’ asked Connah, amused.

‘I’m picking up a word or two, so lunch will be at mezzogiorno, she said with a flourish. ‘That’s midday, and it’s in ten minutes. Eight now,’ she added, looking at her watch. ‘It’s spaghetti with yummy red sauce—Flavia let me taste it. And for supper tonight it’s pollo cacciatore. That’s some kind of chicken. It just has to be heated up when we need it, and it’s all in one pot and smells gorgeous.’

Her father chuckled. ‘One way to get fluent in a foreign language!’

Hester got up. ‘Right then, Lowri. Just time for a wash and tidy-up before lunch.’

‘You sound just like Alice sometimes,’ remarked Lowri as they walked up the garden.

Something to watch, thought Hester, biting her lip.

‘You’re not a bit like her in other ways, though,’ added Lowri. ‘Alice is pretty, but she’s not slim like you. She’s very smiley and cuddly, though.’

‘And I’m not?’

Lowri eyed Hester objectively as they went upstairs. ‘When you smile it sort of lights up your face, and I notice it more because you don’t smile all the time. And you use make-up and scent, you have a great haircut, and your clothes are sort of plain but always look just right, like Chloe’s mother. And you’re young,’ she added as the final accolade. ‘Mrs Powell said Alice was very lucky to catch a husband at her age.’

Poor old Alice, thought Hester. ‘And what age would that be?’

‘I’m not sure. More than thirty, anyway.’ Lowri looked at her curiously as they went into the bathroom. ‘How old are you, Hester?’

‘Twenty-seven—and I’m hungry, so let’s hurry it up.’

After Flavia’s excellent lunch, all three were a little somnolent as they sat at the table on the loggia.

‘Lord knows I don’t feel like it, but I must do some work this afternoon,’ announced Connah, yawning.

‘I feel sleepy too,’ said Lowri, surprised.

‘Then why not have a nap on your bed and leave Hester in peace for a couple of hours?’

‘Later we’ll have a swim,’ promised Hester.

‘OK,’ said Lowri, getting up. ‘I’ll read for a while. You don’t have to come up with me,’ she added, but Hester was already on her feet.

‘I want my book. I fancy a nice peaceful read by the pool.’

‘Make sure you keep under an umbrella,’ advised Connah.

‘Alice can’t sit in the sun, she gets all red and shiny,’ said Lowri as they went upstairs. ‘But you don’t, Hester.’

‘Genetics—olive skin like my father. Right, then. When you’ve had a rest, get into your bikini and join me by the pool.’

‘Have you got a bikini?’ asked Lowri as she began to undress.

‘Yes.’

‘Wear it this afternoon!’

‘I’ll see.’

‘Oh, please, Hester. I bet you look really cool in it.’

‘I’ll think about it. Enjoy your book, and I’ll see you later.’

In her own room Hester exchanged her shorts and T-shirt for a sea-green bikini bought for France. She eyed herself in the mirror and thought why not? She added the long filmy shirt bought to go with it, collected her book, hat and sunglasses and the tote bag that held everything else and went downstairs to compliment Flavia on their lunch. The afternoon sun was hot as she made for the pool and she was grateful for the shade of an umbrella as she settled down with the book she’d started in bed the night before. The bed had been supremely comfortable and the room cool and airy, but sleep had been elusive. The sounds of the night through the open windows had made her restless because, added to the mix, she knew Connah was sitting alone on the loggia.

Hester was absorbed in the novel when a shadow fell across her book and she looked up with a smile, expecting Connah. But a complete stranger stood smiling back at her. A handsome Italian stranger at that.

She shot upright, pulling her shirt together.

‘Perdoneme, I startled you,’ he said apologetically. ‘I thought you were the Signora Anderson. Permit me to introduce myself. I am Pierluigi Martinelli.’

‘Hester Ward,’ she said formally. ‘How do you do?’

‘Piacere. You are here on holiday?’

‘Yes.’ Hester cast a look back at the house, relieved to see Connah about to join them, hand outstretched to the visitor.

‘Hello, Luigi. I didn’t know you were here.’

‘Connah, come estai!’ The two men shook hands. ‘I have just arrived. I came through the woods and along the private path into your garden. I am at the Castello for a while.’

‘Have you met Hester?’

‘We introduced ourselves, yes,’ said Luigi, smiling at her. ‘Are the Andersons here?’

‘No. Just Hester, myself and my daughter.’ Connah took Hester’s hand. ‘Darling, would you be an angel and ask Flavia to bring us some coffee?’

Darling? Hester gathered up her belongings. ‘I’ll get Lowri up while I’m there.’

Grateful for the long, filmy shirt which veiled most of her from the Italian’s appreciative gaze, Hester went quickly up the garden and into the house to announce, as best she could, that they had a visitor.

‘Caffè, per favore, Flavia, per signore Martinelli.’

The name had a dramatic effect on the plump little woman. ‘Il Conte? Maddonnina mia—subito, subito!’ Flavia went into overdrive as she began laying a silver tray with the Andersons’ best china.

Amused, Hester went upstairs to find Lowri already changed for her swim. ‘Your father has a visitor, so put a shirt on top. I won’t be a moment. I’m going to change.’

The glowing face fell. ‘But you said you were going to swim with me!’

‘And I will, later, but right now I’m going to get dressed.’

Lowri gave an admiring look at the sea-green bikini. ‘Do you have to?’

‘Yes, I do. Go on down and meet the visitor, if you like. I’ll be five minutes.’

‘I’ll wait for you,’ offered Lowri.

‘Flavia’s making coffee for the visitor. Why not run down and ask if you can carry something to the pool for her?’

‘OK. But don’t be long.’

Hester pulled on a white cotton jersey shift at top speed, the word ‘darling’ reverberating in her head. At last, her hair caught up in a careless knot, gold thong sandals on her feet, dark glasses in place, she went downstairs to the kitchen where, with many apologies and much hand-waving, Flavia explained that the cakes meant for dessert after supper had been served to Il Conte with his coffee.

‘Non importa,’ said Hester airily, and took the ice-filled jug of lemonade Flavia handed to her.

As she strolled down the descending tiers of flower beds towards the pool, Hester watched the two men standing together, with Lowri between them like a small referee. They were both dark, mature men, but Signor Martinelli, or Il Conte as Flavia called him, was unmistakably Latin. He wore elegant casual clothes, as expensively cut as his glossy black hair, and had an air of swagger about him even in repose. Connah’s darkness of hair and eye were, at least to Hester’s eye, unmistakably Celt. He was the taller of the two, with a hint of toughness and power about his broad-shouldered physique which appealed to Hester far more than the grace of the urbane Italian.

‘Ah, Hester,’ Connah said, smiling, as he took the jug from her. ‘Perhaps you’ll pour for us while Lowri hands round the cakes?’

‘Certainly.’ She looked enquiringly at Luigi Martinelli, who promptly took the seat beside her as she sat down. ‘You like your coffee black?’

‘Grazie.’ He eyed her with open appreciation. ‘And how do you like my homeland, Miss Hester? You have travelled here before?’

‘Not here exactly. I’ve been to Venice, but this is my first time in Tuscany, which is so beautiful, how could I not like it? Please, have one of Flavia’s cakes.’

He took one from the plate Lowri was offering, smiling fondly at the child. ‘And how old are you, carina?’

‘Ten,’ she said quietly, shy in the presence of this exotic visitor.

‘You are a tall lady for ten,’ he said with admiration.

‘Is Sophia with you?’ asked Connah.

‘No. My wife is in Rome. Where else? She does not care for the campagna! Luigi shrugged. ‘But from time to time I experience la nostalgia for the tranquillity of my old home. When I heard that Casa Girasole was occupied I assumed that the Andersons were here and came to invite them to dinner tonight. But I would count it a great privilege, Connah, if you and your ladies would honour me with your company instead.’

Connah shook his head decisively. ‘Sorry, Luigi. We keep early hours here to suit my daughter. Another time, perhaps.’

‘Of course.’ Luigi drained his cup and stood up. ‘It was a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Hester, also you, Miss Lowri. A charming name,’ he added. ‘I have never heard it before.’

‘It’s Welsh for Laura,’ she volunteered shyly.

He startled the child by bowing gracefully over her hand before bidding the others goodbye. ‘I hope to see you again soon. Ciao.’

Luigi Martinelli strolled off the way he’d come, knowing—and probably enjoying the fact—that three pairs of eyes watched him go.

‘What a nice man,’ said Lowri, taking the chair next to Hester. ‘Can I have some limonata, please?’

Connah raised an eyebrow at Hester as she poured it. ‘What did you think of our local sprig of nobility? I should have introduced him as Count Pierluigi Martinelli. The local Castello has been in his family for centuries.’

‘Flavia mentioned the title as she rushed to make coffee for him.’ Hester smiled. ‘You note that the Andersons’ best china was produced for Il Conte.’

‘Flavia has lived here all her life. In her mind, she numbers God, the local priest and Luigi as most important in the local pecking order—though not necessarily in that order. As a girl she was a maid up at the Castello, and Nico, her husband, is Luigi’s gardener.’

‘Is it a real castle with turrets and things?’ asked Lowri, fascinated. ‘I would have liked to see it, Daddy.’

He smiled ruefully. ‘Sorry, cariad, I should have consulted you before turning Luigi down.’

‘We couldn’t have gone tonight anyway,’ she reminded him. ‘We’ve got Flavia’s special chicken dinner.’

‘So we have.’ Connah picked up the tray. ‘I’ll leave the lemonade, but I’ll take the rest in for Flavia, then I think I’ll change and have a swim.’

‘Me too,’ said Lowri promptly, stripping off her shirt. ‘Are you going to change back into your bikini, Hester?’

‘I don’t think so. You can have your swim with your father,’ said Hester, avoiding Connah’s eye.

‘Spoilsport,’ he murmured as his daughter jumped into the pool.

Hester was happy to sit where she was, watching as father and daughter played in the pool. Connah’s muscular body was broad in the shoulder and slim-hipped, also deeply tanned, probably, thought Hester, by some other foreign sun, in striking contrast to his daughter, whose fair skin was already acquiring a glow, courtesy of the Tuscan sun, but it was a different tone from her father’s. Lowri’s eyes and skin obviously came from her mother and, as she often did, Hester wondered about the woman Connah had cared for so deeply. After the one startling incident when he’d showed his emotions on the subject, he hadn’t mentioned her again. And why should he? Theirs was a professional, working relationship, she reminded herself. On Connah’s side, anyway.

Eventually, after much splashing and laughter, father and daughter went in the house to shower and dress. When Connah announced that he was going to do some work before dinner Lowri asked him if she could walk to the village with Hester.

‘Flavia says they have good gelato in the shop there,’ she said eagerly.

‘How you do love your ice cream,’ he mocked. ‘But I’d rather you didn’t go without me, and I can’t come right now. We’ll all walk there another time.’

Lowri pouted a little, but brightened when Hester suggested that instead they ask Flavia for instructions about heating her pollo cacciatore. ‘We’ll ask her to teach us the Italian words for things in the kitchen.’

This programme met with warm approval and a lively hour was spent in the kitchen with a delighted Flavia, who enjoyed the impromptu Italian lesson as much as her students. Afterwards she said her farewells, wished them a happy time in Greve the next day and set off down the road on her bicycle with all the panache of a competitor in the Tour de France.

‘She’s so jolly and nice,’ said Lowri, and gave Hester an impish grin. ‘A lot different from Grandma’s Mrs Powell.’

Since Flavia had already laid the table on the loggia and the pot of chicken merely needed heating when they were ready to eat, Hester suggested it might be a good idea to sit quietly in the salone with a book until it was time for supper.

‘Will you sit with me?’ said Lowri quickly.

‘Of course.’ But as they settled down together Hester felt troubled. Lowri was becoming far too dependent on her. Which was delightful in one way, because Hester was very fond of the child. But when the day came to say goodbye, as it always did, the parting would be even more painful than in the past. The other children she’d cared for had cried bitterly when she’d left, but unlike Lowri they’d had their mothers to comfort them. Although Lowri had Connah and her grandmother, Hester consoled herself. Children were resilient. She would soon recover once she was back in school with Chloe and all her friends.

The supper was a great success. On instruction from Flavia, Hester served a first course of Parma ham with ripe figs bursting with juice. The savoury cacciatore that followed tasted as delicious as its aroma, but it was so substantial that when Hester offered the depleted selection of cakes for dessert not even Lowri had room for one.

‘Gosh, I’m full,’ she said, yawning.

‘In that case, to let your supper go down you’d better stroll round the garden for a while with Daddy while I clear away,’ said Hester, collecting plates. ‘You can watch the moon rise over the pool.’

‘I’ll make coffee when you come down after Lowri’s in bed, Hester,’ said Connah. ‘Come on then, cariad,’ he said, holding out his hand to his daughter. ‘Quick march.’

Later, when the kitchen was tidy and Lowri seen safely to bed, Hester went down to join Connah. The scent of freshly made coffee mingled deliciously with the garden scents of the night and she resumed her chair with a sigh of pleasure.

‘How beautiful it is here.’

‘But it gets cold in the winter when the tramontana blows,’ said Connah, pouring coffee. ‘I was here once with the Andersons for New Year’s Eve. By the way, that was a very meaningful look you gave me regarding the stroll in the garden with Lowri.’

‘Yes.’ Hester braced herself. ‘Forgive me if I’m overstepping the mark, but I think you should spend more time with her on your own. Not,’ she added hastily, ‘because I want time off or because I don’t enjoy her company. I do. So much that Lowri won’t be the only one to feel sad when we say goodbye. But instead of always having me around I think, or at least I’m suggesting, that you should take her out now and again on your own, just the two of you. Maybe take her to visit the Castello, or walk with her into the village.’

‘Is that why you seemed abstracted over our wonderful dinner?’

‘Yes. She wouldn’t sit and read earlier unless I did too.’ Hester raised worried eyes to his. ‘If she’s with me all the time, it will be even more painful when I leave. As I know from bitter experience. The Herrick twins sobbed so much when I left it tore me in pieces. Julia had chickened out of telling them I wasn’t going with them to America, so when they found out at the very last minute it was rough on all of us.’

Connah sat in silence for a while, sipping his coffee. ‘If,’ he said at last, ‘you find this part of your job so painful, isn’t it time you found some other way to earn a living?’

‘I’ve been thinking of it quite a lot lately, but though I’m top of the tree at what I do, I’m not qualified for anything else. Besides,’ she added with a sigh, ‘it was always a vocation for me rather than just a way of earning my living.’

‘So that’s the reason for your sober mood tonight? I thought it was something quite different,’ said Connah casually. ‘Like being addressed as “darling” this afternoon, maybe.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE silence which followed this statement grew too long for comfort. Hester drained her coffee cup and set it down, then refilled it. ‘More for you?’ she asked politely.

‘Thank you. So tell me. Were you annoyed?’ Connah said bluntly.

‘Surprised, not annoyed.’ She shrugged as she poured his coffee. ‘You don’t strike me as someone who bandies meaningless endearments about, so I assumed you had a practical reason.’

‘You assumed right.’ Connah leaned back in his chair, watching her, his long legs crossed at the ankles. ‘I didn’t like the way Luigi Martinelli was looking at you.’

Hester stared at him blankly. ‘How was he looking at me?’

‘You were wearing a few bits of green silk and a transparent shirt. How do you think he was looking at you? He’s a man, for God’s sake, and Italian at that.’