The Mistress of His Manor

‘It must be good to have a meal put in front of you if you’ve been working all day!’

He nodded. ‘Do you cook for yourself every night? Or do you have a succession of hopeful swains ready to wine and dine you?’

‘Afraid not,’ she said with regret. ‘I have friends I eat out with on a fairly regular basis, but most nights I rustle up something in my little nest, or I yield to persuasion and eat with Kate and Jack. Sometimes my grandfather as well.’

‘Does he live with your parents?’

‘No. He won’t budge from his own house. And, despite constant nagging from my father, I won’t budge from mine, either ‘

‘He’d like you under his eye at home?’

Jo nodded. ‘Fortunately Kate refuses to support Jack on this. She appreciates my need for a place—and a life—of my own.’

March’s lips twitched. ‘While your father harbours dark thoughts about what you get up to in your little house!’

‘Nothing tabloid-worthy,’ she assured him. ‘I just like having friends around—male or female—without his eagle eye on the proceedings. Would you fancy being watched all the time?’

‘No,’ he said, sobering, and eyed her empty plate in approval. ‘You enjoyed that?’

‘Absolutely—it was delicious. I’d quite like some coffee, please, and then I must be on my way. Monday tomorrow, and Jack demands punctuality from his employees, whether related or not.’

Rather to Jo’s surprise, March gathered up their plates himself and took them over to the bar when he ordered their coffee. As he eased into the seat again he leaned back at an angle to look into her face. ‘I’ve enjoyed this enormously, Joanna. Let’s do it again in some other location. Soon.’

She eyed him, taken aback. ‘When?’

‘I imagine tomorrow is probably rushing it a bit—how about Tuesday evening?’

She blinked. ‘That soon?’

The intent leonine eyes held hers. ‘After my session with you and the pansies I envied the man I took for granted was your husband,’ he said, startling her. ‘So when our paths crossed again I seized the day when I found you were unattached. As any man in his right mind would. So, then, Joanna—I’ll see you on Tuesday.’

‘Well—yes, all right,’ she said warily.

‘Excellent. Give me your telephone number and tell me how to get to your place. I’ll pick you up at seven.’ He glanced up. ‘Dan’s signalling. I’ll just fetch our coffee. As you can hear, it’s busy out there.’

When he got back March sat close enough for Jo to feel conscious, suddenly, of muscular tanned arms, and the scent of soap and warm man. Odd. None of this had registered before. But now March had made it clear this was to be no one-off occasion, she felt physically aware of him as the attractive male specimen he undoubtedly was.

‘Doesn’t anyone else use this parlour?’ she asked.

‘Not much on a Sunday.’

She eyed him militantly as she sipped her coffee. ‘Right, then. How much was the bill?’

‘Your turn to pay on Tuesday,’ he said promptly.

‘In that case don’t expect Michelin stars!’

‘The food is irrelevant,’ he said dismissively. ‘It’s the company that matters.’

‘I’ll give it some thought.’ She sighed as she glanced at her watch. ‘I really must go.’

‘I’ll walk you to your car.’

‘I’m afraid it’s parked all the way back at the garden centre.’

‘All to the good. Longer walk.’

She gave him a sidelong glance. ‘Though not much longer than the trek you took me on to find the pansies!’

His eyes gleamed unrepentantly. ‘I swear I don’t make a practice of kidnapping married ladies. I persuaded myself that a few innocent minutes in your company hardly counted as adultery.’

Her lips twitched. ‘Surely adultery has to be consensual?’

‘No idea. That’s one sin I’ve never committed.’

‘Do tell about the others!’

‘On Tuesday,’ he promised.

Joanna sent her compliments to the chef when she said goodnight to the landlord. Outside in the starry darkness she shivered a little, and March helped her into her sweater, then took her hand as they walked down the quiet road leading to the garden centre.

‘In case you stumble in uncharted territory,’ he said lightly.

‘Now we’ve left the pub behind it’s so quiet here,’ she commented, enjoying the contact.

‘Too quiet sometimes. Occasionally I need a fix of city lights.’

She looked up at him. ‘You live alone?’

‘Yes, Joanna,’ he said amused. ‘As I told you, I’m single.’

‘You could be living with your mother,’ she suggested cheekily.

‘She died some years ago; my father more recently.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Joanna squeezed his hand, full of sympathy for anyone who lacked parents. ‘Thank you for the meal, March. I enjoyed it—and the evening—very much.’

He smiled down at her as they reached her car. ‘So did I. A pity you have to go home so early.’ He bent and kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven on Tuesday.’

In her car mirror Jo could see March standing under the overhead light, watching her out of sight. She drove home in a thoughtful mood. It was useless to pretend she hadn’t been delighted with everything about the entire evening, including March’s demand to repeat it so soon. The unruly hair and easy laid-back manner—and those eyes—appealed to her strongly. He’d been so easy to talk to she’d been more forthcoming about herself than usual. Nevertheless, she had an idea that a very strong personality lay behind the effortless charm. No Jekyll and Hyde stuff—just a feeling that there was far more to him than met the eye—like a surname, she thought suddenly. Or maybe March was his surname. She’d forgotten to ask.

Chapter Two

WHEN she turned into Park Crescent later, Jo felt her usual rush of pleasure as she drew up outside her house. As simple as a child’s drawing, its white walls glimmered under the street lamp, and a welcome shone through the fanlight over the blue door, due to her father’s insistence on security lights. Until she’d been old enough to live here alone the house had been let out to tenants, but the moment the final lease had terminated Tom Logan had begun redecorating the entire house for his adored granddaughter, delighted that she’d chosen to revert to the original paint colours she’d helped choose for it in her teens.

When her phone rang the moment she got in Jo was surprised—and delighted—to find her caller was March. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘You’re home.’

‘Just this minute. Thank you again for supper.’