His Defiant Mistress. Кэрол Мортимер

      ‘I haven’t heard of anything,’ he said, surprised.

      ‘You wouldn’t have done. I heard of it through a friend.’

      ‘Sarah seems to have established herself very successfully in the community,’ remarked Oliver with satisfaction, and raised his glass again. ‘To my clever goddaughter.’

      ‘To Sarah,’ said Alex, following suit.

      Sarah smiled wryly. ‘Not so long ago, Oliver, you were trying to persuade me to work in your chambers.’

      ‘I concede my mistake,’ he said nobly. ‘I was worried about you, I freely admit, but I’m more than happy to be proved wrong.’

      Alex eyed her challengingly. ‘I’d still like to know how you stole a march on me over the cottages, Sarah. Our original offer was supposed to include them when we bought the Medlar Farm site, but they slipped through some red tape keyhole and went up for separate auction. And a sealed bid at that. So how did you do it?’

      ‘I received very good advice,’ she said demurely.

      ‘That was your doing, sir?’ asked Alex.

      Oliver shook his head. ‘Nothing to do with me, dear boy. I merely enlisted some professional advice to make sure the houses were worth buying, and then advised Sarah to bid slightly over the odds. It obviously worked.’

      ‘Are you using the same strategy this time, Sarah?’ asked Alex.

      ‘Unnecessary. There’s no auction involved.’

      ‘More than one barn, darling?’ asked Oliver

      ‘Three, in fact.’ She smiled at Alex. ‘But I’d rather not give details in present company.’

      Alex looked at her levelly. ‘Relax, Sarah. The Medlar Farm cottages were a one-off deal because they adjoin the hotel development. Normally we don’t deal in property on such a small scale.’

      ‘Which certainly puts me in my place,’ she said lightly. ‘I wonder if they have more of the hazelnut parfait I had last night?’

      When they arrived back at the Merrick building Alex told his chauffeur to drive Oliver back in the Daimler.

      ‘I took it for granted you wouldn’t care to drive yourself, sir,’ he said, smiling.

      ‘No, indeed. Wouldn’t do for a man in my line to risk it after that extra brandy. Thank you, my boy,’ said Oliver, shaking his hand. ‘Very civil of you. We can drop Sarah off at her place on the way.’

      Alex shook hands very formally with Sarah, before helping her into Oliver’s car. ‘Good luck with the new project.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She racked her brains to find something appropriate to say to mark the occasion, but in the end, feeling unexpectedly forlorn, merely smiled back at Alex as the car drew away.

      CHAPTER SIX

      OLIVER ASKED the driver to wait for a few minutes when they arrived at Medlar House, and followed Sarah into her flat. ‘So, then, Sarah. How do you feel after your first success in the property world?’

      ‘A bit flat,’ she confessed. ‘And a bit headachy, too, after two glasses of champagne at this time of day. Not,’ she added with a grin, ‘that it normally features in my life at any time of day.’

      ‘You can well afford the odd bottle now, darling, if you fancy it,’ he reminded her, then smiled lovingly. ‘Sit down, darling. There’s something I want to say.’

      Sarah eyed him in trepidation as she went to her windowseat. ‘Is something wrong, Oliver?’

      ‘Not wrong, exactly.’ He stood looking out at the view. ‘I need to put something right. Your father asked me to keep it from you, but I think it’s time you knew that he was asked to stay on as manager of SC Construction when the Merrick Group bought it from him.’

      Sarah stared at him for a moment, then shook her head vehemently. ‘That’s not true. He would have told me—’

      ‘Sam didn’t tell you because he just didn’t want the job. As long as you had security from the sale of the company, plus the value of the house, he was satisfied. He asked me to take care of you. Not that he needed to ask.’ Oliver bent to take her hand. ‘Sam’s heart was giving out on him. Unknown to me, or obviously to you, he’d been taking medication for years, but when he told me he had very little time left, my darling—’

      ‘But why didn’t he tell me?’ Sarah jumped to her feet. ‘He shouldn’t have kept it from me. If I’d known I would have taken more care of him.’

      ‘You couldn’t have taken better care of him than you did, Sarah.’ Oliver took her in his arms and held her gently for a moment or two, then let her go and turned her face up to his. ‘Sam made me promise not to tell you, but I have no compunction in breaking that promise because I believe you deserve the truth. Don’t be sad. Enjoy your triumph, darling.’

      Sarah nodded dumbly as she blinked tears away.

      ‘Good girl.’ Oliver bent to kiss her cheek. ‘Now, I’d better not keep Alex’s driver waiting any longer. Keep me in the picture with the barn conversion scheme.’

      ‘Of course.’ She hugged him hard. ‘Thank you so much for coming today.’

      ‘Least I could do, dear child.’ He patted her back. ‘And now I shall repair to my hotel room and sleep off the effects of lunch, before attacking the brief I brought with me.’

      Sarah released him, looking at him steadily. ‘And thank you for telling me the truth, Oliver.’

      He smiled ruefully. ‘I just hope I haven’t ruined your day.’

      ‘No. I’m glad I know. I also know how busy you are. It was wonderful to have your support today. Goodbye, Oliver. I’ll ring you.’

      Sarah put her suit away, washed her face, then took a long bath, her brain revolving in circles as it tried to come to terms with Oliver’s revelation. At least, she thought eventually, it scotched any last remnants of guilt she’d felt about selling out to the Merrick Group. But when she’d flung her accusation at Alex Merrick why hadn’t he told her the truth? But if he had would she have believed him? Probably not, she decided honestly. Believing anything good of the Merricks would have been difficult after years of looking on them as the villains of her particular piece. Yet in some ways she was relieved, because no matter how much she’d tried not to she liked Alex. And she was pretty sure her father would have liked him just as much as Oliver did.

      Later, feeling a lot better with that thought in mind, she decided to pass the rest of the day doing girl things for once. As a start she gave her feet a rare pedicure, painting her toenails candy-pink, and then neatened her sorely tried fingernails with an emery board and painted them to match. Afterwards, with an eye on the sunlight filtering through the blinds, she hunted out a white halter top and a thin rose-print cotton skirt she hardly ever wore. Then, armed with a cup of strong coffee to chase away the last lingering effects of the champagne, she made for her usual perch on the windowseat to ring Harry.

      ‘Hi, it’s Sarah. Guess what? I’ve sold the entire row of cottages to the Merrick Group, so Westhope Farm here we come! Will your brother-in-law be available if we pop over there in the morning?’

      Harry gave a hoot of laughter. ‘No doubt about that, boss. Congratulations! What time shall I pick you up?’

      Sarah smiled as she disconnected. The people who thought of Harry Sollers as a gruff old curmudgeon didn’t know him as well as she did. Dedicated bachelor he might be, but he felt paternal where she was concerned. And she was grateful for it. But right now she needed to switch off for a while. Tomorrow, she promised herself, stretching, she would think about permits and building inspections and checks on footings and the usual run-up to a job. But tonight she would just chill for a