The Rich Man's Bride. CATHERINE GEORGE

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      Anna nodded graciously. ‘Thank you so much for coming.’

      ‘You knew I’d be here.’ He turned to smile at Tom. ‘I meant it about the fishing. Give me a ring when the season starts.’

      ‘You bet, Ryder. Thanks a lot.’

      Anna watched Ryder Wyndham thread his way through the room, pausing to speak with various people as he went.

      ‘Did I detect a certain froideur towards the Squire?’ asked Tom dryly.

      ‘Better not call him that to his face. I’ve heard he doesn’t like it.’ ‘He wasn’t too keen on the Mr Wyndham tag, either. What was all that about?’

      She shrugged. ‘It seemed to suit the occasion.’

      ‘He was right, though. You look ready to drop.’ Tom gave her a professional scrutiny. ‘Look, I’ve had nothing much to drink yet, Anna. I’ll drive you back to Keeper’s. I can get your car back to you tomorrow.’

      She shook her head firmly. ‘No, thanks, Tom. I’ll be much happier if you stay here to support Dad.’

      Some people took so long over their leave-taking it was an hour before Anna could kiss her father goodbye and let Tom walk her to her car.

      ‘Text me as soon as you get back,’ he ordered. ‘And drive carefully.’

      ‘It’s not far, Tom!’

      It was exactly three miles door to door from the church to Keeper’s Cottage, but it felt more like thirty to Anna by the time she parked outside in the lane. The garden path seemed longer than usual and the cottage so dark and quiet she switched on all the lights before sending a message to Tom to report in. Shivering with a mixture of reaction and cold, she turned up the heating and went upstairs to change. With a sigh of relief, she toed off her high black heels and exchanged her mourning black for grey flannel trousers, her heaviest roll-neck sweater and the sheepskin slippers her grandfather had bought for her in the local market on her last visit. She’d laughed at the time, but right now her icy, aching toes were deeply grateful for their warmth.

      After a phone call to Clare to ask about her cold and report that all had gone smoothly, Anna unpinned her hair and wove it into a loose braid, then went downstairs to begin the ritual of making tea in her grandfather’s brown pot. She could cry at last if she wanted. But, in the perverse way of such things, she had no tears left now there was no one to see.

      While Anna was looking through the cupboards to decide on her supper menu, Tom rang to ask if she’d changed her mind about having dinner with them.

      ‘No, Tom. The cottage is warm and, much as I’ll miss your company, I’d rather stay here and open a tin.’

      He sighed. ‘OK, if you’re sure, Anna. It just seems wrong that we’re here and you’re up there alone.’

      ‘As soon as you and Dad get a weekend off together I’ll cook dinner in the flat. Clare would love that. So would I.’

      ‘Me too, great idea. OK—no more nagging. We’ll call in to see you when we set off in the morning. Have a good night, but ring if you need us.’

      ‘I’ll probably sleep like a log again. This cottage has good vibes for me, Tom, always has.’

      ‘I know. Otherwise Dad wouldn’t let you stay there alone, even at your age.’

      Anna smiled as she rang off. These days no one ‘let’ her do anything; not even her father.

      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.’

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