SOS: Convenient Husband Required / Winning a Groom in 10 Dates: SOS: Convenient Husband Required / Winning a Groom in 10 Dates

‘Changing,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ he said, tying the belt around his waist and looking more gorgeous than any man wearing a dressing gown that was too narrow across the shoulders, too big around the waist and too short by a country mile had any right to look.

‘You knew!’

‘It isn’t rocket science,’ he said, looking around him. ‘This was your grandfather’s room.’

It wasn’t a question and she didn’t bother to answer. She could have, probably should have, used the master bedroom to increase the numbers for the arts and crafts weekends she hosted, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to do that. While he was alive, it was his room and it still looked as if he’d just left it to go for a stroll in the park before dropping in at the Crown for lunch with old friends.

The centuries-old furniture gleamed. There were fresh sheets on the bed, his favourite Welsh quilt turned back as if ready for him. And a late rose that Robbie had placed on the dressing table glowed in the thin sunshine.

‘Impressive.’

‘As you said, Adam, he was an impressive man,’ she said, turning abruptly and, leaving him to follow or not as he chose, returned to her room.

He followed.

‘You’re going to have to learn how to do this,’ she warned as she fetched a clean towel from her bathroom and handed it to him.

He opened it without a word, lay it over the bed cover and May placed Nancie on it. She immediately began to whimper.

‘Watch her,’ she said, struggling against the instinct to pick her up again, comfort her. ‘I’ll get her bag.’

Ignoring his, ‘Yes, ma’am,’ which was on a par with the ironic ‘Mouse’, she unhooked Nancie’s bag from the buggy, opened it, found a little pink drawstring bag that contained a supply of disposable nappies and held one out to him.

‘Me?’ He looked at the nappy, the baby and then at her. ‘You’re not kidding, are you?’ She continued to hold out the nappy and he took it without further comment. ‘Okay. Talk me through it.’

‘What makes you think I know anything about changing a baby? And if you say that I’m a woman, you are on your own.’

Adam, on the point of saying exactly that, reconsidered. He’d thought that getting through the door would be the problem but that had been the easy part. Obviously, he was asking a lot but, considering Saffy’s confidence and her own inability to resist something helpless, he was meeting a lot more resistance from May than he’d anticipated.

‘You really know nothing about babies?’

‘Look around you, Adam. The last baby to occupy this nursery was me.’

‘This was your nursery?’ he said, taking in the lace-draped bed, the pale blue carpet, the lace and velvet draped window where she’d stood and watched his humiliation at the hands of her ‘impressive’ grandfather.

‘Actually, this was the nanny’s room,’ she said. ‘The nursery was out there.’

‘Lucky nanny.’ The room, with its bathroom, was almost as big as the flat he’d grown up in.

May saw the casual contempt with which he surveyed the room but didn’t bother to explain that her grandfather had had it decorated for her when she was fifteen. That it reflected the romantic teenager she’d been rather than the down-to-earth woman she’d become.

‘As I was saying,’ she said, doing her best to hold onto reality, ignore the fact that Adam Wavell was standing in her bedroom, ‘the last baby to occupy this nursery was me and only children of only children don’t have nieces and nephews to practise on.’ Then, having given him a moment for the reality of her ignorance to sink in, she said, ‘I believe you have to start with the poppers of her sleep suit.’

‘Right,’ he said, looking at the nappy, then at the infant and she could almost see the cogs in his brain turning as he decided on a change of plan. That his best move would be to demonstrate his incompetence and wait for her to take over.

He set about unfastening the poppers but Nancie, thinking it was a game, kicked and wriggled and flung her legs up in the air. Maybe she’d maligned him. Instead of getting flustered, he laughed, as if suddenly realising that she wasn’t just an annoying encumbrance but a tiny person.

‘Come on, Nancie,’ he begged. ‘I’m a man. This is new to me. Give me a break.’

Maybe it was the sound of his voice, but she lay still, watching him with her big dark eyes, her little forehead furrowed in concentration as if she was trying to work out who he was.

And, while his hands seemed far too big for the delicate task of removing the little pink sleep suit, if it had been his intention to look clumsy and incompetent, he was failing miserably.

The poppers were dealt with, the nappy removed in moments and his reward was a great big smile.

‘Thanks, gorgeous,’ he said softly. And then leaned down and kissed her dark curls.

The baby grabbed a handful of his hair and, as she watched the two of them looking at one another, May saw the exact moment when Adam Wavell fell in love with his baby niece. Saw how he’d be with his own child.

Swallowing down a lump the size of her fist, she said, ‘I’ll take that, shall I?’ And, relieving him of the nappy, she used it as an excuse to retreat to the bathroom to dispose of it in the pedal bin. Taking her time over washing her hands.

‘Do I need to use cream or powder or something?’ he called after her.

‘I’ve no idea,’ she said, gripping the edge of the basin.

‘Babies should come with a handbook. Have you got a computer up here?’

‘A what?’

‘I could look it up on the web.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ She abandoned the safety of the bathroom and joined him beside the bed. ‘She’s perfectly dry,’ she said, after running her palm over the softest little bottom imaginable. ‘Just put on the nappy and…and get yourself a nanny, Adam.’

‘Easier said than done.’

‘It’s not difficult. I can give you the number of a reliable agency.’

‘Really? And why would you have their number?’

‘The Garland Agency provide domestic and nursing staff, too. I needed help. The last few months…’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think.’ He turned away, opened the nappy, examined it to see how it worked. ‘However, there are a couple of problems with the nanny scenario. My apartment is an open-plan loft. There’s nowhere to put either a baby or a nanny.’

‘What’s the other problem?’ He was concentrating on fastening the nappy and didn’t answer. ‘You said there were a couple of things.’ He shook his head and, suddenly suspicious, she said, ‘When was the last time you actually saw Saffy?’

‘I’ve been busy,’ he said, finally straightening. ‘And she’s been evasive,’ he added. ‘I bought a lease on a flat for her in Paris, but I’ve just learned that she’s moved out, presumably to move in with Nancie’s father. She’s sublet it and has been pocketing the rent for months.’

‘You’re not a regular visitor, then?’

‘You know what she’s like, May. I didn’t even know she was pregnant.’

‘And the baby’s father? Who is he?’

‘His name is Michel. That’s all I know.’

‘Poor Saffy,’ she said. And there was no doubt that she was pitying her her family.