‘No. I’ll get a room at the pub.’ He took her hand and began to walk up the path towards the house. ‘I thought we might go back to the beginning, slow things down a little. Maybe date?’
‘Date?’
‘An old-fashioned concept, involving the back seat of the movies, Sunday lunch in a country pub, dancing.’
‘You dance?’
‘I can learn.’
‘Well, perfect, but what about the muse thing?’
‘Getting naked? Inspirational sex?’ He grinned. ‘We can do that too.’ They had reached the edge of the lawn and they both turned to look at the house. ‘We appear to have company,’ he said as they spotted the small red car at the same moment that the woman leaning against it spotted them.
‘Brace up, Darius. It’s my mother.’
TEN
‘Mum!’ Tash gave her a hug. ‘How lovely! Can I introduce Darius Hadley, the owner of Hadley Chase?’
‘Mr Hadley.’ Her mother’s eyebrows remained exactly where they were. It just felt as if they’d done an imitation of Tower Bridge.
‘Darius,’ he said, offering his hand with a smile Tash recognised from the pages of the Country Chronicle. Protective camouflage that he wore in public, but never with her. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for pitching in and helping like this.’
‘I’m helping my daughter,’ she said. ‘I thought you were on your own, Tash, or I wouldn’t have been so concerned.’
‘I was and, believe me, if you’d had any idea you would have been a lot more concerned. Three electrical blow-outs, a gazillion spiders and the fright of my life when the security guard peered in through the window.’
‘Well, really! How thoughtless.’
‘No...thoughtful. Darius was concerned about me, too, so he called their office and asked if Steve could bring me some fish and chips. He was perfectly sweet. He made up the Aga, made sure I knew how to set the alarm and checked all the outbuildings before he left.’
‘I’m really glad you’re here, Mrs Gordon,’ Darius said before she could comment. ‘I didn’t think I’d be able to get away, but I’ve put back the project I’m working on until Monday. I met Natasha in the village just now when I stopped to book a room at the pub.’
‘He’s just shown me the most amazing tree house, Mum,’ she said, taking out the keys and unlocking the front door and, just like that, they were through it and in the hall; no drama about the big moment when he stepped back into the house. ‘The kids are going to love it. I’ll make some coffee. Why don’t you show my mother the portrait of Emma Hadley, Darius?’ she suggested, pushing him in a little deeper. He glanced at her, the only sign of tension a touch of white around his mouth. ‘She’s going to give a talk to the Women’s Institute on the history of this place.’
‘Of course. It’s in the library, Mrs Gordon,’ he said.
‘Laura,’ she said. ‘I don’t understand. Why are you staying in the village?’
‘Well, obviously I’ll be here, doing as much as I can, but this is your holiday. You won’t want a stranger—’