One Bride Required!

With a sigh that sounded despairing, she murmured, ‘I just wanted to see what was underneath.’

Eyes gentle, he asked, ‘And what is?’

‘I don’t know, but...’

‘Then look.’ Inserting his fingernail beneath a flake of plaster, he pulled it free. ‘Looks like an old window.’

When she didn’t immediately answer, he turned to look at her, and was astonished to see shock, almost awed bewilderment on her lovely face as she stared at what he had exposed.

‘Oh, my,’ she whispered reverently as she reached out to pull off another, larger piece of plaster. ‘It can’t be.’

Amused, he asked, ‘What can’t?’

‘Bar tracery.’

‘Why can’t it?’ he asked, with absolutely no idea what bar tracery was.

‘Because it can’t.’

‘Why?’

‘Sorry?’

Lips twitching, he queried, ‘What is bar tracery?’

‘This. I need to look outside.’ With an abrupt movement that took him by surprise, she began haring down the stairs, and nearly mowed down a tall, thin gentleman, who was just crossing the hall at the bottom.

‘Whoa,’ he laughed.

‘Sorry,’ she apologised hastily. With a fleeting smile, she continued out through the front door.

‘Who was that?’ Mike exclaimed in astonished appreciation.

Face bland, Nash murmured, ‘My house detective. I have bar tracery.’ With a muffled laugh, and not waiting for any further comment, he continued after Phoenix, but, if he didn’t miss his guess, his architect would be following close behind.

‘Don’t you want to know who that was?’ he teased gently as he caught her up.

She halted so suddenly that he nearly knocked her over. ‘What?’ she asked blankly.

‘The man in the hall.’

‘Oh. Who was it?’ she asked obediently.

‘My architect.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t let him make recommendations until the house has been investigated properly.’

‘No,’ he agreed. ‘He’s just looking.’

She nodded, halted at the back of the house, and looked up.

Following her gaze, not at all sure what he was supposed to be looking at, he finally proffered, ‘A bricked-up window?’

‘Yes.’

‘And is that good?’ he asked as he turned to smile at the architect, who had followed them.

A reciprocal smile on his thin, humorous face, Mike also glanced upwards.

‘Good?’ she queried. ‘Good? It’s Decorated Gothic!’

‘Ah.’

‘It’s the most... I can’t believe it. Oh, I can’t believe it,’ she whispered, her eyes still fixed on the window.

‘Does that mean you’ll stay?’

But she wasn’t listening. ‘Hardly any of them have survived,’ she breathed. ‘Or only in cathedrals. Lincoln and Carlisle, Melrose Abbey, York Minster. You’ll need to hack the interior plaster off very, very carefully, of course, but you can see from here that the stonework is much narrower, and in “bars”. See how the window area is much larger and wider, and encompassed by an equilateral arch?’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, his eyes on her beautiful profile.

‘Divided vertically by stone mullions, it gives five, seven or even nine lights. Mid-fourteenth century.’ Turning, only to find him staring at her instead of the window, she looked hastily away. ‘You haven’t instructed any builders...?’

‘No,’ he denied. ‘I don’t, as yet, have any builders.’

‘Good. Only it’s very important...’

‘Not to disturb anything?’ he said.

‘Yes.’ Looking anywhere but at him, she murmured, ‘Perhaps you ought to think about getting the Manor listed.’

‘No,’ he said, because he knew very well that if it was listed nothing would be allowed to be done.

‘But Inigo Jones might—’

‘No,’ he interrupted softly.

‘You don’t know who he is,’ she accused.

‘Was.’

Mike laughed. ‘Give in,’ he urged his friend. ‘You appear to have met your match, and I have to go. Nice to have met you, Miss...?’

‘Langrish,’ Nash supplied helpfully as he steered Mike back towards the path, without allowing him to say anything further.

‘Talk about “speed the parting guest”,’ he complained humorously. ‘Not that I blame you; she’s stunning!’

‘Yes, she is. A phoenix who falls into the ashes rather than rises from them. That’s her name,’ he explained at Mike’s frown.