‘So … what kind of books do you like to read?’
‘If you’re hoping that I’ll invite you in to have a cup of tea and discuss my reading habits, then I’m sorry, Mr Gaskill, but I’m going to have to disappoint you. You may keep turning up like the proverbial bad penny, but I’m not going to encourage you.’
‘You have something against making friends?’
‘I manage just fine without them.’
‘What about your son?’
‘What about him?’
‘You might prefer to be reclusive, but what about Charlie? Doesn’t he need the companionship of children his own age?’
‘He’s joining the village primary school in a couple of weeks, so he’ll make lots of friends there, I’m sure.’
‘My sister Beth’s best friend Molly teaches the nursery class. If you come to Beth’s little get-together next Saturday you’re bound to meet her. Who knows? You might even become friends.’
Sophia huffed out a sigh. ‘What is it with you? Are you employed to go round the village encouraging fellowship amongst its inhabitants whether they want it or not?’
Jarrett laughed. To be honest, he couldn’t remember the last time that a woman’s witty repartee had engaged him quite so much—thrilled him, even. ‘No, I’m not … Though it seems to me that would be a quite commendable way to spend my time. The downside is I could hardly earn a living doing it.’
Tapping the pink envelope against her thigh, Sophia gave an impatient glance that didn’t reflect a similar enjoyment in his company. ‘Look … I’m in the middle of decorating the sitting room and I must get on. I’m sorry if I seem a little terse, but I have my work cut out trying to make this place into a home for me and Charlie. Thanks for taking the time and trouble to bring me the invitation. You can tell your sister that I’ll think about it and let her know.’
‘If you do that much she’ll be delighted, I’m sure.’
He held out his hand without much hope or expectation that she would take it. He almost stumbled when she slid her cool palm inside his. It was as light and as delicate as a bird.
‘Goodbye, Mr Gaskill.’ She quickly withdrew it, but not before his skin tingled fiercely from its contact with hers.
‘Now that we’ve introduced ourselves you can call me Jarrett. Goodbye … Sophia.’ Before turning away he gave her a deliberately teasing smile, lifted his hand in a wave to Charlie, then strode back down the uneven path and out through the gate to his car …
Reflecting on her most recent encounter with Jarrett Gaskill disturbed Sophia so much that, despite her assertion that she had work to do, the desire to spend the rest of her Sunday afternoon painting the sitting room utterly deserted her. In search of a solution to the hard-to-contain restlessness his visit had left her with, she jumped with Charlie into the small second-hand car she’d recently purchased and drove down to the coast.
The spring day was chilly, but they still ate their fish and chips outside, sitting on a bench overlooking the foaming silver sea, and the gusting wind that blew around them was sufficiently cold to prevent Sophia from dwelling on any of the worries that were usually hovering just below the surface of her conscious thoughts.
When they’d finished eating, she bought her son a crabbing line from a nearby corner shop, along with some bacon to use for bait. Then they walked back down to the seafront, where they enjoyed a pleasantly distracting time fishing about in the murky shallows for baby crabs. After Charlie had diligently counted their catch, they conscientiously dropped them back into the water again.
On the journey home, her exuberant son fell fast asleep in his car seat, worn out by his afternoon’s activities. At last Sophia could mull over the man who so persistently seemed to want to get to know her. She didn’t doubt that he had great ability to charm the ladies. How could he not, with that carved handsome face, those flawless blue eyes and a voice that was mellifluous and compelling?
As she took the road out of the village that led almost straight to High Ridge Hall, she wondered why Jarrett would take the trouble to deliver an invitation to his sister’s ‘little get-together’ by hand? Was it because he wanted to get a chance to look more closely at the house? The idea deflated her and she didn’t know why. She knew that High Ridge had always held a fascination not just for local people but also for passing ramblers. The imposing early nineteenth-century edifice demanded more than just a fleeting glance. Her great-aunt had often had to contend with strangers knocking on the door to enquire after its history.
The idea of her elderly relative giving short shrift in response to those enquiries brought an instant smile to Sophia’s lips. It also reminded her of the great responsibility of taking care of such a house. With the proceeds from the sale of the house she’d shared with her husband and a not insubstantial part of her inheritance from her aunt already gone to help pay off his debts, it was vital that she was able to revive the photographic career that had promised to take off when she’d left college. The career that when she’d had Charlie she’d foolishly and naively put aside, to be the stay-at-home wife and mother that her husband had demanded she be.
A residence the size and importance of High Ridge demanded that she earn a healthy income to maintain it. What little money that was left from her inheritance after all her outgoings were met wasn’t going to last very long. Thankfully she’d kept a note of some of the contacts she’d made after leaving college, and had already been in touch with two very interested parties who liked the sample photos she’d sent them.
Her thoughts gravitated back to Jarrett. The idea of him using his sister’s invitation to seize a chance to view the house at close quarters seriously bothered Sophia. She didn’t know if that had been his motivation for a fact, but still she preferred the notion that it was her company he sought and not a closer acquaintance with her home. Warning herself not to forget even for a second that she’d sworn off relationships with men for good after enduring the living nightmare that had been her marriage, she determinedly buried the familiar feelings of failure and loneliness and reaffirmed her vow to put any further thoughts of Jarrett Gaskill aside.
Feeling somewhat calmer at this resolve, she carefully transported her still sleeping son inside the house. Settling him down on the threadbare old couch, she decided to let him doze for a little longer … at least until she’d prepared their dinner.
To please his sister, Jarrett did what she told him he was so naturally adept at and effortlessly mingled and chatted to her and her husband’s friends at the little soirée she’d arranged—even though he secretly hated it. He did enough schmoozing at the corporate functions and meetings relating to his property business without replicating the behaviour in his supposed free time.
It was rare that he had a weekend off, and when he did he much preferred to be left to his own devices. He liked to take long walks in the countryside surrounding his house, listen to opera on his state-of-the-art music centre or catch up on the stack of films he had missed at the cinema because he’d inevitably been working. Yet agreeing to be sociable with his sister’s friends and neighbours wasn’t the only reason that he’d agreed to be present at her house this warm spring Saturday afternoon. All week Jarrett had hardly been able to think about anything but seeing Sophia Markham again. He couldn’t forget the sight of her beautiful emerald eyes bathed in tears. It troubled him that she might be sad or lonely, yet if he was honest underneath his compassion he couldn’t help wondering if there might be a way to persuade her to sell High Ridge to him. Painting her sitting room by herself didn’t suggest that money was exactly plentiful, he mused. And if she agreed to entertain the idea of selling he would pay her a more than fair price.
His hopes lifting, Jarrett looked forward even more to seeing Sophia