The Rich Man's Bride. CATHERINE GEORGE

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      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.’

      She stared at him, aghast. ‘You think it was as calculated as that?’

      ‘It’s pretty СКАЧАТЬ