The Unwilling Mistress. Кэрол Мортимер

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СКАЧАТЬ smile. ‘It’s been rather a whirlwind romance, but we like him, don’t we, March?’ She looked up at her sister for confirmation.

      Giving Will a few seconds’ reprieve to come to terms with this latest piece of information. Max had got himself engaged to one of the Calendar sisters? Well, that certainly explained a lot!

      ‘We do now,’ March said with satisfaction.

      ‘Oh?’ Will prompted interestedly.

      But not too interestedly, he hoped; he might have walked into the lion’s den by accident—designed by March Calendar herself, if she did but know it!—but he was staying through choice.

      He liked these two women. But especially March, with her quirky sense of humour and her outspokenness. It was refreshing to meet someone who said exactly what she thought. Or, if she didn’t exactly say it, looked what she thought.

      But he was still stunned by the fact that Max had become so personally involved with this family that he was actually going to marry one of them. Max had been a loner for as long as Will could remember, had always scorned the very idea of love, let alone marriage. Although if January was anything like March and May, perhaps the attraction was understandable…

      Yes, he liked these two women, but whether or not they were still going to like him at the end of two weeks was another matter…

      ‘Just a little family problem,’ May answered him dismissively.

      ‘Anything I could help with?’ Even as he asked the question Will knew he had gone too far, could see the puzzlement in May’s expression, March’s more openly hostile.

      ‘Not unless you’re acquainted with Jude Marshall,’ March bit out hardly. ‘Max is a lawyer, originally sent here on Jude Marshall’s behalf to buy our farm,’ she explained at Will’s frowning look. ‘Which we aren’t interested in selling!’ she added with a pointedly determined look in May’s direction.

      A look Will was all too aware of. Dissension in the ranks? It certainly looked like it. May’s next words confirmed it.

      ‘We’re thinking about it, March,’ she told her sister.

      ‘You might be—but I’m certainly not,’ March snapped, two spots of angry colour now in the paleness of her cheeks.

      May sighed before turning back to Will. ‘You’ll have to excuse us, I’m afraid, Mr Davenport—’

      ‘Will,’ he put in smoothly.

      May smiled in acknowledgement. ‘I’m afraid that whether or not we should sell the farm is an ongoing problem at the moment.’ She gave a rueful shake of her head.

      ‘May thinks we should, and I don’t agree with her,’ March snapped unnecessarily.

      ‘And what does January think?’ Will was intrigued about the younger sister, in spite of himself. Although he had already guessed at the rift between March and May over the situation…

      ‘She’ll go along with whatever I decide,’ March announced triumphantly.

      ‘Whatever you decide?’ he prompted mildly; there were three sisters, shouldn’t they all decide?

      ‘Yes, you see May is—’

      ‘I think we’ve bored Mr—Will,’ May corrected at Will’s gently reproving look. ‘We’ve bored him with our problems long enough for one day, March,’ she stated firmly as she stood up. ‘The only thing that Will needs to know is that we definitely won’t be selling the farm during the two weeks he wants to stay here,’ she added lightly.

      ‘That’s a relief.’ He smiled, preparing to leave as he took May having stood up as his cue to leave. ‘I should be back by about five o’clock, if that’s okay?’

      May nodded. ‘The garage beneath the studio is for your use.’

      ‘Yes.’ March grinned now. ‘One fall of snow and you could lose your little car underneath it!’

      What March described as a ‘little car’ was in fact a Ferrari! It was Will’s pride and joy, the culmination of years of hard work. But, he had to admit, March was probably right about the snow! Yorkshire was having a particularly hard winter this year, many people having been snowbound in their homes until the last few days.

      He gave a rueful smile. ‘I’ll try to remember that.’ He nodded.

      ‘Dinner is at seven o’clock,’ May told him briskly as she walked to the door with him.

      ‘Stew and dumplings tonight, isn’t it, May?’ March put in with a deliberately mocking smile in Will’s direction.

      She obviously didn’t see him as a man who normally ate such nourishingly basic fare, and in one way she was probably right; he lived alone, had a busy life, and things like home cooking were not a luxury he could afford. Although he didn’t think March would understand what he meant by that…

      ‘It sounds wonderful,’ he told May warmly.

      ‘Just like your old granny used to make?’ March put in tauntingly.

      ‘March!’ May winced laughingly.

      ‘Let’s hope so,’ Will answered March dryly. ‘My grandmother is a first-class cook!’ he added challengingly, rewarded with the satisfaction of seeing that superior smile wiped off March’s beautiful face!

      ‘So was ours, and she taught us all to cook,’ May assured him smilingly, lightly touching the sleeve of his coat in apology for March’s outspokenness.

      Strange that it was their grandmother who had taught the three sisters to cook, and not their mother…?

      ‘There you are, March; something we have in common!’ He grinned across at her.

      ‘It’s probably the only thing,’ she muttered in reply.

      Causing Will’s grin to widen appreciatively. This woman really did have an answer for everything!

      ‘Any chance of a home-made apple pie to go with the stew and dumplings?’ he prompted hopefully. ‘My grandmother makes the most mouth-watering pastry too,’ he added dryly.

      ‘Would you like us to get out the best silver and white table linen too?’ March came back impatiently.

      He raised mocking blond brows. ‘Not unless it’s what you normally do, no.’

      ‘Hardly,’ she scorned.

      ‘It was only a suggestion about the pie.’ He shrugged, laughter gleaming in his eyes at March’s obvious disgust with the whole conversation. ‘Obviously if you can’t make mouth-watering pastry—’

      ‘Oh, but she can,’ May put in, laughter lurking in her own eyes now as she listened to the exchange with obvious enjoyment. ‘The art of making good pastry is having cold hands, I’m told,’ she added mischievously.

      ‘“Cold hands warm heart”?’ Will returned teasingly.

      ‘Let’s СКАЧАТЬ