A Wicked Persuasion. Catherine George

Sophie,’ he added in a different tone, ‘I suggest you help Julia clear the dining room and load the dishwasher.’ He waited until they left the room, then turned to Harriet. ‘You really think this will work?’

      She nodded. ‘It must work. The roof is the top priority. I checked with Ed.’

      ‘Why not with me?’

      ‘Because you turn a blind eye to what you don’t want to see!’

      He sighed. ‘You’ve changed such a lot, Harriet.’

      She shook her head. ‘You just haven’t noticed before.’

      ‘I notice more than you realise,’ he said bleakly, ‘including why you refuse to live here at home with me.’

      Harriet was relieved when her sisters’ reappearance put a welcome end to the tense silence which followed her father’s statement. Soon afterwards, Sophie drove home, and Harriet retreated thankfully to the Lodge without mentioning that someone was already interested in taking River House over for a project. It had seemed best to get her father used to the idea before hitting him with the first punter right away.

      But instead of concentrating on a workable solution to the problem of River House’s finances, Harriet’s mind kept returning to the past once she was in bed. Over the years she had trained herself to forget that James Crawford existed, but running into him earlier had brought back that long ago idyllic summer so vividly that sleep was impossible.

      The Lodge, once occupied by Margaret before her marriage to John Rogers, had been empty when Harriet announced at fifteen that she wanted to take it over to study there in peace. In return for her father’s permission she’d promised to take care of it herself. She was at her desk there one hot summer morning a few years later when her computer crashed. A frantic phone call to the local suppliers brought quick response in the shape of a tall young technician with shaggy black hair and bright hazel eyes which lit up with gratifying pleasure at the sight of her.

      ‘Hi. I’m from Combe Computers,’ he said in deep gravel tones which sent shivers down her spine.

      Harriet smiled shyly and showed him into the small sitting room she’d made into a study. She gestured to the computer on the desk. ‘Can you do anything with it?’

      ‘I’ll do my best, Miss Wilde.’

      ‘Harriet.’

      ‘James.’ He smiled. ‘James Crawford.’

      She curled up on the window seat to watch as he set to work, impressed by his skill as he took the machine apart.

      ‘It’s the mother board,’ he announced after a while, and opened his bulging black bag. ‘I’ll fit a new one. It won’t take long.’

      He was right. Far too soon for Harriet, the computer was up and running and James Crawford was ready to leave.

      ‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she said warmly as she saw him to the door. ‘I was tearing my hair out before you came.’

      ‘A crime with hair like yours!’ He smiled down at her in the tiny porch. ‘Do you work in the evenings, too?’

      ‘Sometimes.’

      ‘How about taking time off to come out for a drink tonight?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said promptly.

      His smile sent her brain reeling. ‘I like a woman who knows her own mind. I’ll pick you up at seven.’

      ‘No, thanks,’ she said hastily. ‘I’ll meet you. Where?’

      From that first night in a small pub far enough from the town to give them anonymity, they’d found an immediate rapport. Unknown to Aubrey Wilde and Miriam Cairns, or to Sophie, who was away in France for the summer with her best friend’s family, they spent every moment possible together from that night on. If questioned on her whereabouts, Harriet enlisted the willing help of a friend, and lied shamelessly that she was making the most of her time with Anne during her vacation. As the time drew near for Harriet to leave for her second year at university the prospect of parting grew so painful James came up with the idea of sharing a flat near the college for the duration of her course.

      ‘I can freelance, and still be on call for the firm,’ he assured her. ‘Most important of all, we can be together.’

      Harriet had agreed rapturously, willing to defy her father on her own account when it came to living with the man she loved, but in the end afraid to risk ruin to James Crawford’s career when Aubrey Wilde’s threats sounded the death knell to the plan.

      CHAPTER TWO

      HARRIET woke next morning with dark-ringed eyes which needed serious work with camouflage before she was ready to face her day. To her surprise, Julia arrived as she was about to leave. ‘I thought you were having a lie-in!’

      Julia nodded glumly. ‘So did I. But my body clock is still ticking on London time. Besides, I wanted to catch you before you took off. Does Charlotte Brewster already have something in mind for River House? Knowing you, cautious one, I was pretty sure you wouldn’t have stated your case so strongly otherwise.’

      ‘You’re right. She’s sending me our first punter this morning. Some man who wants the house for a party.’ Harriet looked at her watch. ‘I’d better get going. I’ll give you a ring tonight to report.’

      ‘In that case I’ll be noble and keep Sophie in the loop for you.’ Julia shot her sister a wry look. ‘I suppose you know why she’s such a cow to you?’

      Harriet nodded. ‘She’s jealous of my so-called relationship with Father.’

      Julia eyed her thoughtfully. ‘She hasn’t a clue, has she? So why do you stay?’

      Harriet concentrated on packing her briefcase. ‘Because just before … before the end, I promised Mother I would help Father take good care of River House.’

      Julia shook her head in disapproval. ‘Leave him to do it himself. I love the place too, but you need more in your life than a house, Harriet! Mother would be the first to agree with me.’

      ‘I enjoy a normal social life,’ said Harriet defensively.

      ‘Ah, but do you ever enjoy a sleepover with the men you go out with? I doubt that you ask anyone back here!’

      ‘For heaven’s sake, Julia, it’s too early in the morning for this—I have to go.’

      Julia paused in the doorway. ‘Take my advice—if money does come in this way, or any other way at all, get part of it tied up tight in a separate business account for the house. Otherwise Pa might start dabbling in shares and Lord knows what else again and we’ll be back to square one.’

      ‘I intend to,’ Harriet assured her. ‘When I break the glad news to him can I say I have your full support?’

      ‘Absolutely. Good luck.’

      Harriet reached the premises in Broad Street on time, as usual. She exchanged greetings with Lydia, the long-time receptionist, and made for the small office with a single tall window overlooking the gardens—a view that more than compensated for lack of space. As she gazed out for her brief morning ritual of peace, the new trainee came in to ask about coffee.

      ‘Not right now, thanks, Simon.’ Harriet smiled at him. ‘Bring some when my nine-thirty appointment arrives. Tell Lydia to buzz you the moment he does so you can usher him in with due pomp.’

      ‘Will do. You look good today,’ he remarked. ‘New suit?’

      ‘New to you, yes.’ She smiled. ‘Now, hop off and let me get on.’

      Harriet worked steadily for an hour before taking a break to tidy up. She was back at her desk, absorbed again, when Simon knocked on her door and ushered in her client.

      ‘Your nine-thirty appointment, Miss Wilde,’ he announced.

      Harriet