The Rich Man's Bride

The doorbell rang while she was watching the ten o’clock news. She smiled fondly. Her father hadn’t been able to resist checking up on her after all. To reassure him that she was security conscious, she kept the new safety chain on as she opened the door, but her smile vanished as unmistakable blue eyes looked down at her through the aperture. The Squire, it seemed, had honoured his tenant with a visit.

‘May I come in, Anna?’ said Ryder Wyndham.

Her first instinct was a flat refusal for several reasons, not least because she was wearing the famous slippers and her face probably looked as grey as her sweater now her make-up had worn off. On the other hand, she needed a favour.

‘I won’t keep you long,’ he added.

Anna unhooked the chain and opened the door. ‘Come in, then.’

Her visitor followed her into the parlour, his hair, longer again now, almost brushing the beams. Anna waved him to a sofa and took the one opposite, wondering, not for the first time, if some gypsy blood had once nourished the Wyndham family tree. In his teens Ryder had traded on the look, sporting wild black ringlets and a gold earring that went well with slanting cheekbones and eyes surrounded by lashes that were still thick as flue-brushes, she thought resentfully. At the moment the eyes were surveying her with unnerving concentration.

‘In the churchyard today that knot of hair shone like a beacon among all the mourning black,’ he said at last, surprising her. ‘But worn like that you look about fifteen.’

‘Such a good thing for a woman to hear when she’s more than twice that age,’ said Anna, her tone as sweet and cold as the lemon sorbet she was partial to.

‘I know exactly how old you are.’

Her eyes glittered coldly. ‘You’ve told me that before.’

‘I called in at the Red Lion,’ Ryder said after an awkward silence. ‘Tom told me you came straight back here, too tired to stay there for dinner.’

‘It’s been a tiring sort of day.’

‘And you’ve been ill.’

She shrugged. ‘Something I’ll do my utmost to avoid in future. It worried my family and interfered with my job.’

The striking eyes remained steady on her face. ‘Are you still with the same firm of chartered accountants?’

She nodded. ‘Yes. I hope to make partner soon.’

‘So I heard. Your grandfather was very proud of your success. He thought the world of you, Anna.’

‘It was mutual.’ She looked at him levelly. ‘Why did you come tonight instead of in the morning?’

‘Your father asked me to call in to check on you.’

She frowned impatiently. ‘He really shouldn’t have done that.’

‘It’s no great thing. I had to pass the cottage on my way home, Anna.’ Ryder stood up, his presence filling the low-ceilinged room. In place of the black tie and dark suit of the afternoon he wore a heavy navy sweater with casual cords, but as always, Anna thought resentfully, looked exactly right.

‘Since you are here we might as well talk now and save you some time,’ she said shortly, but he shook his head.

‘You look exhausted, Anna. I’ll come back in the morning. Goodnight. Sleep well.’ He looked down at her as she opened the front door. ‘Put the chain on after I leave.’

She gave him a curt nod. ‘Goodnight.’

Anna had been tired and ready for bed before RyderWyndham turned up. But sleep was a forlorn hope now without a warm bath to soothe down the hackles her visitor had raised without even trying. She knew perfectly well that she should have said her piece tonight, but sheer vanity had prodded her to look more appealing when she coaxed Ryder to let her stay in the cottage for a while.

Anna groaned next morning when she faced her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Looking like this she was in no state to do any coaxing. Her hair was a wild tangle after the steam of her late night bath and her face was milk-pale—something she’d have to put right pretty sharply before her father and Tom arrived and carted her off home to Shrewsbury whether she wanted to go or not.

Later, in a scarlet sweater chosen to lend warmth to her skin, Anna did some skilful work on her face, but her efforts failed to deceive the brace of doctors she was related to.

‘Bad night, obviously,’ said her father, looking worried.

‘My own fault. I took an unplanned nap during the evening,’ she told him. ‘Fortunately I was awake when Ryder called. Bad idea, Dad. You shouldn’t have asked him to do that.’

John Morton eyed her in surprise. ‘I knew he’d be passing on his way home. Besides, I thought you’d be pleased to see him.’

‘I was not looking my best by that time,’ she said tartly. ‘Not that it matters. Have you two got time for coffee before you take off?’

‘Sorry,’ said Tom regretfully. ‘I’m doing an outpatients clinic at two.’

‘And I’m seeing Father’s solicitor on the way back, so I must be off too,’ said John Morton, and peered into his daughter’s eyes as he felt her pulse. ‘How soon will you finish your antibiotics?’

‘Ten days to go.’

‘Good. But you look a bit anaemic to me, my girl. Add some extra iron to your vitamins.’

‘I’m already doing that, Dad.’

Once Anna had persuaded her men that she was perfectly capable of managing alone for a day or two, they drove off, one after the other, leaving her to wait for another visit from the Squire.

Ryder Wyndham arrived promptly at eleven, by which time Anna’s hair was in a careless-looking knot that had taken ages to achieve, and both she and the cottage were immaculate.

‘Good morning,’ said Anna as she let him in. ‘Coffee?’

‘Thank you.’

She opened the parlour door for him, but he followed her to the kitchen.

‘How are you today, Anna?’

‘Absolutely fine. Would you take the tray?’

When they were seated opposite each other in the parlour, Ryder took the cup she gave him and sat back. ‘For obvious reasons I was surprised when you asked to see me. So what can I do for you, Anna?’

She smiled politely. ‘Nothing too arduous. I just need your permission to stay on in the cottage for a few days. I’m supposed to convalesce for a while before even thinking of going back to work, and I’ll do that far better here than in London.’

He shrugged. ‘You don’t need my permission, Anna. It’s your grandfather’s house, not mine. He bought it from the estate years ago.’

‘What?’ She stared at him blankly. ‘Is that true?’

He looked down his aquiline Wyndham nose. ‘I’m not in the habit of lying, Anna. I admit it’s not our normal policy to sell off property, but Hector Morton served the estate faithfully all his working life, so my father made an exception in his case.’

Anna shook her head in amazement. ‘I had no idea.’

‘Surely you wondered why so much work was done here this past year?’

‘I assumed the Wyndham Estate was responsible.’

He shook his head. ‘My total input was to give any advice your grandfather asked for.’

‘It was very good advice, Ryder,’ she conceded. ‘The entire cottage looks a picture. Though I’m surprised he bothered at his age. He knew very well he wouldn’t have long to enjoy it,’ she added sadly.

‘His own enjoyment was never his intention. He was making the place more saleable.’

‘He meant to sell it?’ she said, startled.

‘No.’ Ryder put his cup on the tray and got up. ‘Anna, this puts me in a very awkward position. Hector showed me his will quite recently, but you obviously know nothing about it.’

‘Not yet. Dad’s calling in on the solicitor on his way back this morning. He’ll ring me tonight.’

‘Good. He can put you in the picture. How long will you stay here?’ he added.

‘A few days, maybe. I’ll see how it goes.’ Anna got to her feet, eyeing him in challenge. ‘Do you mind if I stay for a while, Ryder?’

‘Of course not.’ He smiled bleakly. ‘After all, we were good friends once.’

‘Something you forgot one memorable evening,’ she said bluntly.

‘Anna, if I could take back the things I said that night I would. It was a pretty rough time for me. I apologised humbly when I knew the truth,’ he reminded her curtly.

Anna eyed him with scorn. ‘Come off it, Ryder. You don’t do humble.’

His eyes glittered coldly. ‘I had a damn good try in your case! I failed spectacularly, I grant you, but your grandfather told me to give you time, that you’d come round one day.’

‘Did he really? For once in his life he was wrong.’

He gave her a challenging look. ‘Was he? In London you wouldn’t let me through the door, but here you’ve done that twice in two days.’

‘Only because I needed something from you,’ she assured him. ‘Have you heard from Dominic lately?’

‘Yes. I told him about Hector. I wouldn’t pass on the number here without your permission so Dominic asked me to give you his condolences.’

‘If he contacts you again, give him the number by all means, but I doubt that he’ll need it.’

‘You’re not so friendly with my little brother these days?’

Her eyes clashed with his. ‘I never was in the way you mean. In any case Dominic lives in New York now—and soon he’ll be married to someone much younger and a lot more eligible than me,’ she added tartly. ‘Tell me, Ryder. Was it just my advancing years you objected to, or the irrefutable fact that I was your gamekeeper’s granddaughter?’

His face hardened. ‘That’s an insult to your grandfather.’

‘Then I apologise to him. Thank you so much for coming,’ she added graciously. ‘I’m sorry I wasted your valuable time.’

‘Not at all.’ He shook her hand with cold formality. ‘If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to get in touch.’

She’d crawl over hot coals first!

At the front door he paused to look down at her. ‘Take good care of yourself, Anna. Tom told me you developed pneumonia because you went back to work too soon after a dose of flu.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘Tom should mind his own business!’

‘As a brother and a doctor,’ he drawled, ‘I imagine he feels that your health is his business.’

‘True, but it’s very definitely not yours, Ryder Wyndham—or should I say Squire and pull my forelock?’

‘By all means if you want to, Anna,’ he said, infuriating her, and fixed her with a glacial blue look. ‘Tom told me you’d been ill for the simple reason that he wanted me to keep an eye on you. Here’s my mobile number. Call me if you need anything.’

‘How kind. But I won’t,’ she assured him, and held the door open wide.

‘Keep the card anyway.’ Ryder nodded casually and went down the path to the Land Rover waiting at the gate.

CHAPTER TWO

ANNA heard from her father before he began evening surgery. ‘What’s up, Dad?’ she said, surprised. ‘I thought you were ringing tonight.’

‘I just couldn’t wait that long to give you my news, darling—’

‘Hold on. Before you start, I’ve got news for you too. Ryder says Gramp bought the cottage from the estate years ago. Did you know about that?’

‘No—at least not until this morning. Father left the cottage to you, Anna.’

She sat down with a thump on one of the kitchen chairs. ‘What?’

‘You get the cottage, and he put a sum of money equal to its value in trust for Tom and me. Old Fanshawe’s a dry old stick, but he had a twinkle in his eye when he told me my father had been playing the stock market for years. The old devil. He let me assume that the estate was paying for the work on the cottage. And all the time he was turning it into a desirable property to leave to you. He made it over to you years ago, Anna. Are you still there?’

‘Just about,’ she said faintly.

‘I’m having trouble taking it in too,’ admitted John Morton. ‘I had no idea Father had so much money to leave. But I wish he’d left it differently, instead of landing you with the responsibility of the house.’

‘Knowing Gramp, he had his reasons, Dad.’

‘He obviously expected you to sell it.’

Anna looked round her with assessing eyes. ‘I’m not so sure about that. He knew how much I loved the place, so maybe he thought I’d live here.’

‘You can’t commute to London, Anna!’

‘True. But it would be a perfect weekend retreat for all three of us.’

‘That hardly seems fair.’

‘What does Tom say about it?’

‘I haven’t told him yet.’ John Morton’s voice softened. ‘Now, forget about the will for a minute—how do you feel, darling?’

‘Thunderstruck.’

‘I mean physically.’

Anna thought about it. ‘Is a sudden yearning for bacon sandwiches a good sign?’

‘Excellent. But I didn’t buy any bacon for you.’

‘It’s a fine afternoon. I’ll drive down to the village shop.’

‘Good idea. Buy plenty of milk and fresh fruit too. Take care of yourself, pet. I’ll ring you tomorrow.’

Anna put on the ancient sheepskin jacket always kept in her wardrobe at Keeper’s and went out to the car, delighted by the idea of her grandfather playing the stock market. Good for him, she thought proudly as she drove through cold late afternoon sunshine.

Anna left the village stores later with a bag full of shopping and a head buzzing with condolences and local news, but arrived home with a proud sense of achievement because she’d managed it all without feeling exhausted. Her own home, she reminded herself in triumph. Keeper’s Cottage was now officially her very own property, all signed and sealed. She couldn’t wait to tell Clare.

Clare Saunders was an attractive forty-year-old divorcee, who owned a flat bought with her share of the proceeds when her marriage to a fellow journalist came to an end. The two women had met at a party and took to each other on sight—so much so that when Clare heard Anna was in sudden need for somewhere to live she suggested they try sharing for a month to see how it worked out. It worked out so well that John and Tom Morton soon looked on Clare as an extra member of the family.

With no chance of talking to her friend until Clare got home from work that evening, Anna settled down with a book for the daily rest her father had insisted on as part of her recovery programme. But excitement over her windfall made it hard to rest and even harder to concentrate on the written word. Her mouth tightened. A shame she hadn’t known all this sooner. There would have been no need to coax Ryder Wyndham to let her stay here. Though at one time that would have posed no problem at all. As he’d reminded her, they’d been good friends when they were young.

She gave up on her book and leaned back, her mind on the past. She’d spent almost every school holiday here with Tom after their mother died. Hector Morton had been only too pleased to look after his grandchildren, ready to give any help he could to his grieving, hard-working doctor son. He’d kept a watchful, tolerant eye on Anna and Tom as they roamed the estate with Ryder. Edward Wyndham, the eldest son, was several years Ryder’s senior and, as heir to the estate, too involved in helping his father run it to have time for siblings. Dominic had surprised everyone, not least his parents, by appearing on the scene when Ryder was thirteen and Anna ten.

But five years after that everything changed for Anna.

The Wyndhams gave a party to celebrate Ryder’s eighteenth birthday and, to her wild excitement, Anna received a formal invitation. John Morton bought her the dress of her dreams and Hector drove her to the Manor that night, proud as Punch of his granddaughter. Anna received a warm welcome from all the family, but felt shy as she was introduced to the other guests. The boys were friendly, but the girls ignored her. They were sophisticated creatures, with long hair and strapless satin dresses, and the moment she laid eyes on them Anna found that her new elfin haircut and pastel chiffon party frock were all wrong. For the first time in her life she was conscious of the social gulf which yawned between Anna Morton from Keeper’s Cottage and Ryder Wyndham from the Manor. His mother, unfailingly kind as always, made sure that her youngest guest never lacked for partners when the disco music started thumping out in the marquee, but once supper was over Anna couldn’t get away fast enough. She thanked her hostess and, with the excuse that her grandfather was waiting for her, slipped away, desperate to go home.

But Ryder went racing after her and when he found that Hector’s old shooting brake was nowhere in sight, drove her home in the sports car he’d been given for his birthday. He’d laughingly demanded a goodnight kiss for taxi fare, the first they’d ever exchanged, and with a careless wave drove back to the party, leaving Anna to stand at the gate gazing after him in a daze. To Ryder the kiss had so obviously meant nothing more than an affectionate exchange with an old friend that Anna suffered a crushing sense of rejection as he returned at top speed to the Manor, eager to get back to the girls who’d been so hostile towards her. Anna watched the scarlet car roar away into the night and knew that nothing would be the same again. It was time to grow up.

Life also changed for the youngest Wyndham. According to Hector, Dominic grew up wild and rebellious, narrowly missed being expelled from school after his mother died, and insisted on taking a fine art course instead of studying law as his father wanted. Anna hadn’t seen him for years until the evening he came to tell her about Edward Wyndham’s sudden, tragic death.

She had been dressed ready for a party and knew with hindsight that she’d made more of an impression on her visitor than she’d realised in a clinging black sheath with her hair in an expensively tousled amber mane. But, no matter what Dominic said to his brother afterwards, she thought bitterly, she had merely offered her visitor coffee and sympathy, and even offered a tissue when his feelings overcame him and tears welled in the familiar blue Wyndham eyes. They had talked over old times together, and Dominic described his job in the fine arts section of a prestigious New York auction house, of the ‘nose’ he’d developed for finding sleepers that turned out to be lost masterpieces. He’d also talked a lot about the wonderful girl he worked with there. When Anna asked after Ryder, Dominic told her his brother was keeping his feelings under wraps, as usual. But Anna had eventually learnt exactly how Ryder felt the night he came to confront her with his accusations. And, even after all this time, the wound he’d inflicted was still painful.

Anna shrugged the memories away as she made supper. Afterwards she rang Clare to pass on the astonishing news about her legacy and tried to coax her friend to come down for the weekend. But Clare was now deep in the throes of her cold and in no state to go anywhere but bed.

‘Sorry, can’t make it, love,’ she said thickly. ‘It’s a good thing you’re safe out of the way down there. The last thing you need is assault and battery by a new set of germs.’

‘You sound terrible, Clare. For heaven’s sake look after yourself—remember what happened to me!’

‘A salutary lesson, darling. Never fear, I’m dosing myself with pills washed down with hot lemon and honey laced with single malt my dear old ex brought me.’

‘Is Charlie with you?’

‘He’s mopping my feverish brow as we speak.’

Anna grinned as she heard familiar male laughter. ‘I’ll leave you to enjoy ill health, then. Take care.’

Tom rang later to exclaim over their grandfather’s legacy. ‘Will you sell the cottage, Anna?’

‘It’s the sensible thing to do, but I don’t want to. As I told Dad, the three of us can use it as a weekend retreat.’

‘But that’s not fair. You didn’t get any cash, and you’ll need some just to keep the place ticking over.’

‘I know that, Tom, but I can manage that quite easily on my salary. Besides, this place is so full of Gramp I can’t bear the thought of strangers living here.’

‘Me too, but you may well change your mind after a few days on your own down there.’

CHAPTER THREE

DETERMINED to prove Tom wrong, Anna settled into a pleasant, restful routine. She slept reasonably well, drove to the village after breakfast every morning for a daily paper and anything else she fancied, then after lunch went for a walk if the weather was good or a drive when it rained. By the evening she was only too happy to talk on the phone with friends for a while before settling on a sofa with a book, or to watch television, and her mirror confirmed that she looked a lot better. To her relief she saw no more of Ryder Wyndham, but her father checked on her daily and promised to drive down to take her to lunch at the Red Lion the following Saturday.

Anna spent the morning tidying up the day before, went for a drive in the afternoon and on the way back called in at the village shop to lay in extra supplies for her father’s visit. She was so late getting back it was dark by the time she reached the cottage. She dumped her shopping down in the hall and switched on lights, then went into the parlour to draw the curtains. And stopped dead in the doorway. The place was a mess. The sofa cushions had been thrown to the floor and the television was missing, along with two oil paintings and the set of Spode plates from the inglenook…She stiffened, swallowing dryly. The intruder could still be in the house. Armed with a poker from the fireplace, she tiptoed through to the pantry but, to her enormous relief, met no one on the way. The burglar was long gone, taking the microwave, kettle and kitchen wall clock with him, she noted in fury. A chill ran down her spine. He might be upstairs.

Anna forced herself to creep up the narrow staircase, then sagged against the wall on the landing in relief when she found no sign of the intruder other than the chaos he’d caused. She stayed on the landing to look into each bedroom and ground her teeth in fury at the sight of drawers yanked out of the furniture and mattresses heaved to one side. As the final straw, her suitcase had been opened and her underwear tossed in a tangled heap on the carpet. But she was wearing her watch and signet ring and she’d taken her wallet with her, so the pickings in that field had been slim for the intruder, which was some consolation. Her instinct was to rush into each room and tidy up, but caution told her to leave everything as it was and ring the police to report the break-in. After making the call she found she was trembling with reaction. She knew she ought to ring her father. But he was a long way away and well into evening surgery by now and Tom had even further to drive, even if he was available.

Nevertheless she was in urgent need of support from someone right now. In the end she searched for Ryder’s card, stared at it for a long moment, then shrugged and rang his number. Hot coals or not, this was an emergency.

‘Ryder, it’s Anna. I’m sorry to trouble you, but I didn’t know who else to ring. I’ve been burgled.’

‘Good God. Are you all right? Are you hurt?’ he demanded.

‘No. I was out. I’ve just got in. I’ve rung the police.’

‘Good. I’m on my way.’

Anna put her shopping away while she waited, but in shorter time than she’d have believed possible she heard a car speeding down the lane, footsteps racing up the path and hammering on the door.

‘Anna, let me in.’

She threw open the door and Ryder closed it behind him, his face stern.

‘Tell me what happened,’ he ordered.

‘I went out this afternoon,’ she said unsteadily. ‘When I came back I found the place in a mess and some things had been taken. My first thought was to ring Dad, but it would have taken him ages to get here and you did say to contact you if I needed anything.’

‘Of course. It was exactly the right thing to do,’ he said, eyeing her closely. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Anna? You’re as white as a sheet.’

‘Fright,’ she said tersely. ‘I’m fine otherwise.’

‘Good. Come and sit down and tell me what’s missing.’ His voice was so sympathetic Anna fought an urge to lay her head on his shoulder and cry her eyes out. ‘Hector’s obituary was in the local paper today,’ he said grimly. ‘Someone obviously read it and came to take a look.’