Runaway Fiancee. Sally Wentworth

the doorway found a pile of clothes thrust into his arms. ‘What on earth...?

      ‘There must be a charity shop round here. Give them these. And these. And these.’ She was pulling clothes out of the wardrobe, hangers and all, and heaping them onto the pile.

      ‘Wait! Hey, wait.’ Milo peered at her over the growing pile. ‘Are you sure about this?’

      ‘I couldn’t be more sure. Hateful, dreary clothes. I wouldn’t be seen dead in them. Come on, let’s put them in your car.’ Gleefully she picked up another pile and carried it out into the hall.

      ‘This is crazy,’ Milo said as they dumped the clothes in the back of the car. But he didn’t seem at all angry, and looked, if anything, amused by it.

      They made two more journeys before the clothes cupboards were empty, and Paige looked at them in satisfaction. ‘Good. Now I’ll unpack my case.’

      She had just finished doing so when the locksmith arrived. Within ten minutes he’d changed the barrel on the front door and handed her two new keys. When he’d gone, Paige looked down at the two keys and glanced at Milo. ‘One for me, and one for—’ She paused deliberately. ‘And one for Jean-Louis, of course.’