Will He Ask Her to be His Bride?. Trish Wylie

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