The City-Girl Bride

At three and a quarter million the builder and his accountant exchanged looks, and Maggie saw the builder’s mouth twist angrily as he conceded defeat.

As she battled with her disbelief Maggie saw the agent congratulate Finn with obvious pleasure before starting the bidding for the land.

Well, if Finn thought she was going to congratulate him he was going to be disappointed, Maggie told herself fiercely, and she deliberately turned her back on him. Surely he would leave now that he had got what he wanted? Her face grew hot as she remembered unwillingly her foolish assumption that he had come to the auction to seek out her. Thank goodness she hadn’t said anything to him that might have betrayed that misconception—and her with it—to his scorn and rejection.

Finn watched grimly as Maggie turned her back on him. He was still battling with the sense of shock he had experienced on seeing her—and with the savagery of his unwanted pain when he had realised that she wasn’t there, as his initial heart-wrenching belief had been, because of him.

Almost absently he nodded in the auctioneer’s direction, signalling his interest in the land. It was entirely Maggie’s fault that he had so nearly been late for the auction in the first place. A night of broken sleep interspersed with graphically emotional and physical dreams about her had resulted in him doing something he never did—oversleeping. Ever since he had first heard that this estate was coming up for auction he had been determined to buy it. Owning it would be the fulfilment of a decade long search. And yet now, instead of concentrating on the bidding, his thoughts were focused almost exclusively on Maggie.

What was she doing here? Bidding for one of the lots; that much was obvious from her intent concentration on the auctioneer and the sale brochure she was holding. But which lot? Not the main house, nor the land…

Finn frowned as he automatically raised his bid to meet that of Audley Slater. Audley was a local farmer whose family connection with the area went back over several generations. His land ran next to that of the estate, and Finn could well understand why he wanted to buy it, but Audley believed in intensive farming, and Finn knew that if he was successful he would drain the estate’s water meadows, and probably sell the river’s fishing rights. He wanted to retain the water meadows and if possible restore them to their original form.

No, Maggie couldn’t be interested in the land—which left the cottages and the barns that went with them, and the Dower House.

Finn’s frown deepened. Philip Crabtree, the agent, had been scrupulous about not discussing any other potential buyers with him, other than to say that both the Dower House and the cottages had attracted some interest. And, cautious about not revealing too much of his own plans, Finn had allowed Philip to believe that his bidding would be for the main house itself and the land.

Out of the corner of his eye Finn saw Audley Slater shaking his head as Finn raised his bid yet again.

Five minutes later, coming over to Finn after the auctioneer had finally signalled that Finn’s bid for the land was successful, Audley told him bluntly, ‘It will take one hell of a long time for you to make a profit out of the land at that price.’

Maggie could see Finn talking to the farmer he had just outbid. Next to her the young couple were huddled together, holding a whispered conversation.

‘Not long now,’ the agent told Maggie reassuringly as he walked past her.

The bidding for the cottages didn’t take long. The moment the young couple realised that Finn was entering the bidding they virtually gave up. Maggie felt angry on their behalf as she saw their disappointment. Her stomach started to churn nervously as she heard the auctioneer announce the final lot for sale: The Dower House.

‘This is a very pretty little Georgian house, with a good-sized garden, in an excellent situation, although in need of a certain amount of renovation and repair. I shall start the bidding at two hundred thousand pounds.’

Refusing to look at Finn, Maggie raised her brochure. ‘Two hundred thousand,’ she offered, hating the cracked anxious note she could hear in her own voice.

So Maggie was bidding for the Dower House. He should have guessed, Finn acknowledged bitterly. It would make a perfect ‘weekend retreat’ for Maggie and her partner—her lover. The lover she had denied to him existed; the lover he would never have known she possessed, given her sensual responsiveness to him, if he hadn’t heard her himself on the telephone to him. He could just imagine what would happen if Maggie were to be successful in her bid to buy it. The house would be gutted. An expensive team of architects would be brought in to renovate the whole place, followed by equally expensive builders, and then no doubt one of the City’s most trendy interior designers,

But the Dower House belonged rightfully to the estate, it was a part of its history, and there was no way Finn had ever intended to have city weekenders living right under his nose—any weekenders, but most definitely not Maggie and her lover. Angrily he raised her bid. No matter how much it cost him there was no way he was going to have Maggie buy the Dower House.

No way he could endure having her living there, no matter how infrequently, reminding him of certain things he had no wish whatsoever to be reminded of.

Maggie gritted her teeth and tried not to let her hostility show as she topped Finn’s bid. He was doing this deliberately; she knew it. The auctioneer had virtually assured her that the Dower House was hers, that no one else was interested in bidding for it. She tensed as she heard Finn’s clipped response to her bid. Three hundred thousand pounds—they had reached the house’s reserve price, but there was no way she was going to stop now…

Oblivious to the interest the battle between them was now causing the others in the room, Finn and Maggie continued to outbid one another, taking the price of the Dower House higher and higher. Three hundred and fifty thousand, three hundred and seventy-five thousand, four hundred thousand…

When Maggie reacted sharply and fiercely to Finn’s four hundred thousand with her own four hundred and twenty-five thousand, she could see the look of concern on the agent’s face. The knowledge that he felt sorry for her, that he obviously felt she was getting out of her depth, only spurred her on. Four hundred and fifty thousand came and went, and four hundred and seventy-five. Maggie was way over her top limit now, but she no longer cared. All she cared about was winning…All she cared about was refusing to allow Finn to best her, to defeat her.

They were standing less than two metres apart and, unable to help herself, Maggie turned towards Finn.

‘Why are you doing this?’ she mouthed bitterly at him.

‘Why do you think I’m doing it?’ he mouthed equally bitterly back. ‘There is no way I’m going to let you get the Dower House. No way, Maggie. No matter how much it costs me.’

No matter how much! The apprehension flooding Maggie almost overwhelmed her fury.

‘Five hundred thousand pounds!’

A cold rush of icy shock rushed through Maggie as she heard Finn make his bid, his voice, like his demeanour, stern and unyielding. When he turned away from her to face the auctioneer an unfamiliar recklessness tore through her, totally obliterating the anxious voice of caution begging her to think about what she was doing. Instead of listening to it, Maggie started to make frantic mental calculations. She would have to re-mortgage her London flat, and borrow against the business as well as empty her savings accounts…

The reality of the financial ruin she could be facing if she allowed her pride its head finally got through to her, like a blast of cold air in an overheated room, making her shudder as she recognised her own danger.

She could sense the tension in the room, the sense of appalled fascination their duel was creating amongst the onlookers. Her pride urged her not to give in, but reality forced her to acknowledge that she could not continue. Her awareness of her own vulnerability tasted bitter, made her eyes sting with angry emotions she furiously refused to acknowledge. Holding her head high, she looked across at Finn properly, for the first time since the bidding had begun. Silently he looked back at her. His eyes were inimical and cold, his mouth a hard tight line of angry rejection