going to lead me astray,’ she said to the cat, who just purred and wound herself around Cait’s legs.
Owen was chuckling.
‘What?’ she said.
‘Me, leading you astray. As if I would,’ he murmured, and winked at her.
She sighed inwardly. Unfortunately she didn’t think there was the slightest chance of him leading her astray, despite the wink. He was far too much of a gentleman, and she had a sickening feeling that he wanted much less from her than she wanted to give.
But, then, she was a desperate, lonely old maid.
Not that she’d have to be desperate to take an interest in him. He was enough to tempt a saint, and she’d lost any right to that office years ago. Oh, rats.
‘Right, I’m ready,’ she said, throwing the cat an extra measure of dry food and making a friend for life of her.
She flicked off lights, left the landing light on and ran down the stairs with Owen following her, her overnight bag firmly in his hand after he’d removed it from her.
Ever the gentleman.
She shut the door from the stairwell to the shop, locked it and then set the shop alarm on the way out of the door.
‘Is there any risk of a break-in?’ he asked her, and she shrugged.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t want to take any chances, so I tend to set the alarm if I’m out for a long time—although they say most burglaries happen when you’ve gone to fetch a child from school or nipped to the shop, don’t they?’
‘Something like that. We were burgled in town whilewe were at home, for goodness’ sake—just because we left the window open in the sitting room when we’d gone out into the garden. They came in through the bay window in full view of the street, and nobody saw a thing.’
She thought how she’d feel, and shuddered. ‘It must have been awful. Did they take much?’
He gave a slow shake of his head. ‘Not really. They broke something irreplaceable, though, a cup Josh had made for Jill at school. That was the worst thing. Nothing else seemed to matter by comparison.’
He opened the car door for her, and she looked up and caught a glimpse of pain in his eyes, and knew she’d been right. He was a man who valued little things, who knew the importance of tiny gestures and acts of kindness, and she felt her throat swell with emotion so that she could hardly swallow.
By the time he was behind the wheel she’d got herself together again, and he shot her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘OK?’ he said, and she nodded, not quite able to trust her voice.
‘Yes, I’m OK,’ she managed after a moment, then changed the subject. ‘So, where are we starting this pub crawl?’ she asked brightly.
‘Oh, in Audley. I’ve got a taxi coming for us at eight-fifteen.’
‘Such extravagance,’ she teased, and he shrugged.
‘You could drive, if you like, but it rather defeats the object.’
‘So it does,’ she agreed. ‘So, which pub first and why?’
‘The Dirty Duck—they have a brilliant starter menu.’
‘Starter menu?’ she said, puzzled.
He shot her a grin. ‘Oh, yes. You didn’t think we were going to go to all these pubs and just drink, did you?’
She had—well, she’d imagined he’d told her not toeat so he could feed her, not so she’d get drunk quicker, but she had no real idea what he’d got in mind.
It turned out to be a culinary guided tour. They had chopped mushrooms and smoky bacon on toast in the Dirty Duck, washed down with a glass of something delicious from their wine cellar, followed by a brisk walk across town to the Wagon and Horses for a wonderful pot roast with the most fabulous vegetables and a glass of vintage claret, then on to the Bell for the wickedest chocolate mousse she’d ever tasted in her life, sitting on a puddle of Grand Marnier and topped with the creamiest cream and a fanned strawberry garnish, with a glass of wonderfully mellow muscat to sip alongside it.
‘That,’ she told him as she scraped the last tiny bit of chocolate mousse
Owen was chuckling.
‘What?’ she said.
‘Me, leading you astray. As if I would,’ he murmured, and winked at her.
She sighed inwardly. Unfortunately she didn’t think there was the slightest chance of him leading her astray, despite the wink. He was far too much of a gentleman, and she had a sickening feeling that he wanted much less from her than she wanted to give.
But, then, she was a desperate, lonely old maid.
Not that she’d have to be desperate to take an interest in him. He was enough to tempt a saint, and she’d lost any right to that office years ago. Oh, rats.
‘Right, I’m ready,’ she said, throwing the cat an extra measure of dry food and making a friend for life of her.
She flicked off lights, left the landing light on and ran down the stairs with Owen following her, her overnight bag firmly in his hand after he’d removed it from her.
Ever the gentleman.
She shut the door from the stairwell to the shop, locked it and then set the shop alarm on the way out of the door.
‘Is there any risk of a break-in?’ he asked her, and she shrugged.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t want to take any chances, so I tend to set the alarm if I’m out for a long time—although they say most burglaries happen when you’ve gone to fetch a child from school or nipped to the shop, don’t they?’
‘Something like that. We were burgled in town whilewe were at home, for goodness’ sake—just because we left the window open in the sitting room when we’d gone out into the garden. They came in through the bay window in full view of the street, and nobody saw a thing.’
She thought how she’d feel, and shuddered. ‘It must have been awful. Did they take much?’
He gave a slow shake of his head. ‘Not really. They broke something irreplaceable, though, a cup Josh had made for Jill at school. That was the worst thing. Nothing else seemed to matter by comparison.’
He opened the car door for her, and she looked up and caught a glimpse of pain in his eyes, and knew she’d been right. He was a man who valued little things, who knew the importance of tiny gestures and acts of kindness, and she felt her throat swell with emotion so that she could hardly swallow.
By the time he was behind the wheel she’d got herself together again, and he shot her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘OK?’ he said, and she nodded, not quite able to trust her voice.
‘Yes, I’m OK,’ she managed after a moment, then changed the subject. ‘So, where are we starting this pub crawl?’ she asked brightly.
‘Oh, in Audley. I’ve got a taxi coming for us at eight-fifteen.’
‘Such extravagance,’ she teased, and he shrugged.
‘You could drive, if you like, but it rather defeats the object.’
‘So it does,’ she agreed. ‘So, which pub first and why?’
‘The Dirty Duck—they have a brilliant starter menu.’
‘Starter menu?’ she said, puzzled.
He shot her a grin. ‘Oh, yes. You didn’t think we were going to go to all these pubs and just drink, did you?’
She had—well, she’d imagined he’d told her not toeat so he could feed her, not so she’d get drunk quicker, but she had no real idea what he’d got in mind.
It turned out to be a culinary guided tour. They had chopped mushrooms and smoky bacon on toast in the Dirty Duck, washed down with a glass of something delicious from their wine cellar, followed by a brisk walk across town to the Wagon and Horses for a wonderful pot roast with the most fabulous vegetables and a glass of vintage claret, then on to the Bell for the wickedest chocolate mousse she’d ever tasted in her life, sitting on a puddle of Grand Marnier and topped with the creamiest cream and a fanned strawberry garnish, with a glass of wonderfully mellow muscat to sip alongside it.
‘That,’ she told him as she scraped the last tiny bit of chocolate mousse
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