Bella smiled. ‘Well … I live with my aunt Kate who’s very particular about stuff and Bib—that’s the kitten—decided she wanted to see what was on top of the window and the quickest way up was to use the net curtains, only her claws got stuck and she got scared and started shouting.’ Bella was using her hands as she began her story but Lady Dorothy wasn’t watching. Her gaze kept straying to the wardrobe door that Bella had left open accidentally. The linen pants were in clear view.
She bit back a hopeful smile and went on with her story.
Oliver took a very roundabout route to make his way to the geriatric ward at seven that evening. It hadn’t been possible to locate a plain brown paper bag, so the bag of hamburgers and fries he carried was emblazoned with the red and yellow logo of the world-famous fast-food chain.
A bag he almost dropped when he entered his mother’s room. He had expected to find her in her bed. Not sitting in the armchair by the window—wearing her day clothes.
It was nothing short of a miracle.
‘You got dressed!’
‘Yes … and I feel so much more like myself.’ Lady Dorothy smiled at him.
‘How on earth …?’ The query trailed into silence. He’d been going to ask how she’d managed by herself but that would only be rubbing in the fact that she couldn’t. But she hadn’t been allowing anybody to help so how …?
‘I had some help.’ His mother nodded. ‘I met the most astonishing girl this afternoon. Bella. Simply delightful.’ She gave her son a thoughtful gaze. ‘Very pretty, too.’
‘Mother!’ Oliver shook his head but he was smiling. How could he not smile? This was a major step forward. ‘You know my rule about dating nurses. Or doctors. Or anyone else from work. It’s a no-go area. Always has been, always will be.’
It wasn’t as if he didn’t meet countless eligible women through the lavish fundraising occasions he was obliged to attend with his mother and it was rare to find any single woman who wasn’t eager to date the Dawson heir. Sex had never been a problem. Finding a woman suitable to produce the grandchild his mother yearned for was quite a different matter, however. It was a search that, quite frankly, Oliver was getting seriously bored by. Or maybe he was resisting because it wasn’t just that his mother was yearning for the next generation but that everybody expected it to happen.
‘Hmmph.’ Lady Dorothy sighed. ‘Anyway, this Bella used to look after her grandmother who had terrible arthritis so she knows all about it. She helped me and … and she managed to do it without making me feel like some kind of oversized infant.’
Oliver made a mental note to find the nurse called Bella and show his appreciation.
‘Oh …’ His mother bit her lip. ‘I meant her nanna, not her grandmother. She got murdered.’
‘Good grief.’ Oliver was setting out the food he’d brought on the end of the bed.
‘By her grandfather.’
Oliver’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘Comes from a good family, then?’
‘Don’t be a snob, Oliver. She can’t help her family any more than any of us can. And she made me laugh.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ Oliver said, and meant it. He screwed up the big paper bag and went to put it in the rubbish bin. There was something large and bright pink filling the metal bucket. He peered closer and then lifted the item out to see what it was.
His mother giggled.
Bella sneaked through the hospital corridors very carefully on her way to the geriatric ward at seven-thirty p.m., a box in her arms.
‘Shh …’ she said occasionally. ‘If we get caught, we’re going to be in big trouble, Bib.’
Amazingly, she made it to the ward without meeting anybody. The planned treat of letting Lady Dorothy play with a kitten for a few minutes could go ahead. It didn’t matter how frozen and sore her hands were right now. She would still be able to feel the softness of this fluffy kitten’s fur and have the pleasure of hearing the tiny animal purr.
She tapped softly at the closed door and then let herself in without waiting for a response.
‘Surprise,’ she whispered gleefully.
Except the surprise was hers. Perched on the end of Lady Dorothy’s bed, stuffing a hamburger into his mouth, was Oliver Dawson.
CHAPTER THREE
‘BELLA!’ Lady Dorothy sounded delighted. ‘You’ve come to visit me? What a lovely surprise.’
‘You’re Bella?’ Oliver Dawson sounded distinctly less delighted. In fact, he used the hand that wasn’t holding the hamburger to cover his eyes as he rubbed his temples with his thumb and middle finger.
‘Have you got a headache, darling?’ Lady Dorothy asked.
‘No.’ The word was a growl.
Bella was still staring, dumbfounded. Oliver Dawson was sitting on a patient’s bed eating a cheeseburger. A patient who had called him ‘darling’, no less.
A ripped-open packet of very unhealthy French fries was lying on the bed beside him, the contents well depleted. What’s more, he had loosened his tie, undone the top button of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up. Even his hair looked slightly dishevelled. He looked …
Human.
And gorgeous. Gorgeous enough to make Bella’s heart skip a beat. And then another. Uh-oh! She recognised that symptom a little too well. It was closely followed, as usual, by that melting sensation deep in her belly that ended with a delicious tingle. The fact that it was Mr Oliver Dawson she was feeling attracted to was disturbing to say the least.
‘This is my son, Oliver,’ Lady Dorothy said. ‘Oliver, this is Bella. I was telling you about her, remember?’
When he took his hand off his eyes, Oliver nodded wearily. He also looked straight at Bella and she could swear his colour had heightened and he had a haunted look in his eyes. He was quite obviously excruciatingly embarrassed. Well, of course he was. Caught out looking human and eating junk food!
Ha. Finally, she had the advantage.
Sadly, the feeling of one-upmanship lasted precisely five seconds at which point a scratching noise could be clearly heard coming from the box in her arms. Scratching that was followed by a very plaintive miaow.
Lady Dorothy’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, my goodness … Did you bring Bib in to visit me?’
‘Um …’ Bella’s gaze slid away from Oliver’s but there was no getting out of this. A tiny paw had appeared in the centre hole where the flaps of the box didn’t quite meet, as though the kitten was putting her hand up to be noticed. ‘Yes.’
‘Show me.’ Lady Dorothy tried to shift the bag of French fries she had on her lap but she couldn’t hold it and it fell, spilling fries onto the floor. Before either her fumbled movement or the mess could even be commented on, Bella lifted the fluffy grey and white kitten from the box and deposited her on Lady Dorothy’s lap.
Bib, bless her, took one look at the old lady and stood up on her hind legs, stretching so that she could rub her head on Lady Dorothy’s jawbone. They could all hear the purring that filled the sudden silence in the room like a miniature chainsaw.
‘Oh … oh …’ Lady Dorothy’s voice had a noticeable wobble. ‘What a wee darling.’ She reached up and it didn’t seem to matter that she had to use the back of her hand to stroke the kitten. Bib nimbly climbed a little further, settled into a sphinx-like shape on the platform of a shoulder and started washing the nearest patch of skin she could find. Just beside the diamond stud twinkling in Lady Dorothy’s earlobe.
Lady