we’ll have lunch. Do you feel up to lunch?’
‘I feel…’ Bridget drew some deep breaths of the clear air ‘…dangerously hungry, as it happens. I would kill for some lunch, in other words.’
He grinned.
Mount Grace homestead was vast and cool. There were no ceilings to hide the soaring thatch roof, the floors were polished wood, and there were stone fireplaces in all the rooms.
The main lounge-dining area was exquisitely furnished. Some of the furniture was in woods she didn’t recognise, and looked very old. There was a zebra skin on one wall, and a Zulu shield that reminded her of the movie of the same name.
‘All in all,’ she said, breaking her rather awestrucksilence, ‘there’s one phrase that springs to my mind—out of Africa.’
‘Yes—ah, there you are.’ Adam turned at a sound behind them. ‘Bridget, this is Fay Mortimer—housekeeper extraordinaire.’
‘No such thing,’ the middle-aged woman who stood before them replied. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here to meet you, but I had my hands full. How do you do, Bridget?’
They shook hands.
Fay Mortimer might be middle-aged, but she was slim and trendy-looking, with a shining bob of greystreaked brown hair.
‘Hands full?’ Adam queried.
‘I’m babysitting my granddaughter today. She’s only three months,’ she said to Bridget. ‘But I have got lunch ready, and I thought it might be nice for you to eat on the terrace?’ She raised an eyebrow at Adam.
‘Sounds good to me. We’re ready when you are. Bridget is actually starving.’
‘Right-oh! You sit down. I’ll bring it out.’
Lunch was delicious: a light consommé followed by a Caesar salad laden with smoked salmon, anchovies, and crispy bacon pieces. There were warm rolls to go with it, and it was followed by a cheese platter, biscuits and fruit.
As they ate, and Bridget sipped iced water while he had a beer, he told her about the stud and the stallions he had. He told her that Fay Mortimer’s son-in-law was stud master, and lived there with her daughter—the mother of the three-month-old baby she’d beenlooking after. He also told her that they all lived in apparent harmony, although in separate cottages on the property.
It was utterly peaceful as they ate, with bees humming through the flowerbeds and dragonflies hovering, their transparent wings catching the sunlight. And the view was spread before them like a lovely sunlit tapestry under a blue, blue sky.
But when she’d finished Bridget laid down her linen napkin and said, ‘I can’t just walk into all this.’
Adam plucked a grape from the cheese platter and toyed with it in his long fingers. ‘Why not?’
She hesitated, then swept her hair out of her eyes and took a sip of water. ‘All this—it doesn’t seem right.’
He ate the grape and plucked another, but it must have had an imperfection because after he’d studied it he tossed it into the shrubbery. ‘I don’t really understand what “all this” has to do with it. Are you trying to say if I’d been a wood-chopper at a country show you’d have married me?’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Bridget replied coldly.
‘Why?’ He stared at her derisively.
‘Because—well, apart from anything else it is obviously not a good idea to marry anyone you don’t really know!’ she said through her teeth, and felt so frustrated she picked up the last few grapes on the stem and threw the lot into the shrubbery.
‘Temper, temper,’ he admonished softly.
‘You started it!’
‘Well, before we denude the table, may I point outthat we do know each other pretty well in one way—the way they euphemistically refer to as the biblical way.’
Bridget had gone from angry to feeling slightly embarrassed at her rather childish display, but this taunt brought a tide of bright scarlet to her cheeks. She said, with as much dignity as she could muster, ‘It’s not the only way you need to know someone.’
‘No, but it helps greatly if all is well in that
‘I feel…’ Bridget drew some deep breaths of the clear air ‘…dangerously hungry, as it happens. I would kill for some lunch, in other words.’
He grinned.
Mount Grace homestead was vast and cool. There were no ceilings to hide the soaring thatch roof, the floors were polished wood, and there were stone fireplaces in all the rooms.
The main lounge-dining area was exquisitely furnished. Some of the furniture was in woods she didn’t recognise, and looked very old. There was a zebra skin on one wall, and a Zulu shield that reminded her of the movie of the same name.
‘All in all,’ she said, breaking her rather awestrucksilence, ‘there’s one phrase that springs to my mind—out of Africa.’
‘Yes—ah, there you are.’ Adam turned at a sound behind them. ‘Bridget, this is Fay Mortimer—housekeeper extraordinaire.’
‘No such thing,’ the middle-aged woman who stood before them replied. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here to meet you, but I had my hands full. How do you do, Bridget?’
They shook hands.
Fay Mortimer might be middle-aged, but she was slim and trendy-looking, with a shining bob of greystreaked brown hair.
‘Hands full?’ Adam queried.
‘I’m babysitting my granddaughter today. She’s only three months,’ she said to Bridget. ‘But I have got lunch ready, and I thought it might be nice for you to eat on the terrace?’ She raised an eyebrow at Adam.
‘Sounds good to me. We’re ready when you are. Bridget is actually starving.’
‘Right-oh! You sit down. I’ll bring it out.’
Lunch was delicious: a light consommé followed by a Caesar salad laden with smoked salmon, anchovies, and crispy bacon pieces. There were warm rolls to go with it, and it was followed by a cheese platter, biscuits and fruit.
As they ate, and Bridget sipped iced water while he had a beer, he told her about the stud and the stallions he had. He told her that Fay Mortimer’s son-in-law was stud master, and lived there with her daughter—the mother of the three-month-old baby she’d beenlooking after. He also told her that they all lived in apparent harmony, although in separate cottages on the property.
It was utterly peaceful as they ate, with bees humming through the flowerbeds and dragonflies hovering, their transparent wings catching the sunlight. And the view was spread before them like a lovely sunlit tapestry under a blue, blue sky.
But when she’d finished Bridget laid down her linen napkin and said, ‘I can’t just walk into all this.’
Adam plucked a grape from the cheese platter and toyed with it in his long fingers. ‘Why not?’
She hesitated, then swept her hair out of her eyes and took a sip of water. ‘All this—it doesn’t seem right.’
He ate the grape and plucked another, but it must have had an imperfection because after he’d studied it he tossed it into the shrubbery. ‘I don’t really understand what “all this” has to do with it. Are you trying to say if I’d been a wood-chopper at a country show you’d have married me?’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Bridget replied coldly.
‘Why?’ He stared at her derisively.
‘Because—well, apart from anything else it is obviously not a good idea to marry anyone you don’t really know!’ she said through her teeth, and felt so frustrated she picked up the last few grapes on the stem and threw the lot into the shrubbery.
‘Temper, temper,’ he admonished softly.
‘You started it!’
‘Well, before we denude the table, may I point outthat we do know each other pretty well in one way—the way they euphemistically refer to as the biblical way.’
Bridget had gone from angry to feeling slightly embarrassed at her rather childish display, but this taunt brought a tide of bright scarlet to her cheeks. She said, with as much dignity as she could muster, ‘It’s not the only way you need to know someone.’
‘No, but it helps greatly if all is well in that
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