‘If you weren’t as keen as she was, I suppose you were better breaking up with her,’ Lindy retorted evenly. Her soft heart went out to Sarah, who had sounded like a pretty nice person and who was probably grieving now over the loss of him—as Lindy had once grieved without even the excuse of ever having had him.
‘You are the most fabulous cook.’ Ben sighed, taking another bite of her crumbly iced carrot cake and savouring the taste.
Lindy compressed her lips, too well aware that no such proficiency would ever increase her appeal to the opposite sex. She was convinced that her real problem was that there was too much of her. Ever since she had been likened to a fertility statue at school, and bullied unmercifully on that basis, she had despised her full-breasted, generous-hipped body. Diets and exercise seemed to have little impact, and although she carried no surplus weight anywhere else she was embarrassed by her healthy appetite. Ben always dated small, skinny girls who made Lindy feel enormous and clumsy.
Lindy had dropped out of university when her mother fell ill. An only child from a poor home, she had had to give up studying for a law degree to nurse her mother through a long and sadly terminal decline. On the brink of returning to university Lindy had come down with a nasty bout of glandular fever. By the time she had recovered her own health she had lost interest in studying and had gone for an office job instead. Her flat-sharing days in London with her friends Elinor and Alissa had been fun, but since then both women had married, moved abroad and had families, so their meetings now were few and far between. Even so, it had been during a summer visit to Elinor and her husband Jasim’s English country home that Lindy had first fallen blissfully in love with the countryside. As soon as she had found a rural property at a rent she could afford—The Lodge, a small gatehouse at the edge of a grand estate—she had taken the plunge and jumped off the hamster’s wheel of urban working altogether.
Since then Lindy had devoted herself to making a living through pursuits she enjoyed. She grew lavender and roses, and made pot-pourri and candles which sold well via the internet. She took occasional part-time jobs when her bank account needed plumping up, but devoted most of her free time to helping out at the local animal sanctuary. She had acquired two rescue dogs: Samson and Sausage. Her friends might insinuate that she was throwing her youth away, but Lindy was content with her home, her small income and her simple life.
Of course every Eden had to have a serpent, she conceded ruefully. Hers was Atreus Dionides, the new, fabulously wealthy owner of Chantry House, a wonderful Georgian jewel of a mansion surrounded by a beautiful estate. Thanks to him, she was no longer free to roam where she liked through hundreds of acres of parkland and wood. Worst of all, her single unforgettable meeting with the wretched man had humiliated and distressed her so much that she had actually considered moving.
‘Are you quite sure that you don’t mind looking after Pip?’ Ben checked again, on his way out of the front door.
‘He’ll be fine here.’ An essential streak of honesty made Lindy sidestep the question, for if truth be told Pip was far from being her favourite house-guest.
The Chihuahua belonged to Ben’s mother, who expected her son to look after her pet whenever she went on holiday. Unhappily, Pip was a very cross little animal. Had he been larger he would have had to wear a muzzle. As it was, the tiny canine continually growled, snapped and barked, and even Lindy’s love of dogs was taxed by Pip’s bad temper and tendency to bite.
Lindy walked Ben out to his car. ‘You shouldn’t have parked on the drive. I don’t have a parking space here. The estate manager did ask me to ensure that my visitors parked outside the gates,’ she reminded him awkwardly.
‘The new owner is really making life difficult for you. If he keeps it up, I bet it could constitute harassment,’ Ben replied, climbing into the driver’s seat and opening the window on the passenger side to continue the conversation.
Lindy tensed and then froze when she saw a long dark limousine gliding through the tall black gates. In a trice, she had dropped down into a crouch by the passenger door, so that she was hidden from view by Ben’s sports car.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ Ben demanded with raised brows.
‘Just don’t drive off until the limo has gone past!’ Lindy hissed, staying down, her face as red as a beetroot and as hot as fire.
The limousine continued down the drive at a stately pace and disappeared round a corner. Lindy slowly rose up to her medium height, glossy dark brown hair rippling round her shoulders, her violet-blue eyes strained and uneasy.