step backwards. 'What are you doing
here?' she demanded huskily.
He lifted an eyebrow in exaggerated surprise. 'I told you I was
planning to look at houses today. This was first on my list, and when
Gordon Wilby told me you were being shown it this morning I
decided the sensible thing, in the circumstances, was to bring my own
appointment forward, and look over it together. When I explained to
Gordon, he totally agreed with me. Why, is something wrong?' His
eyes glinted at her in challenge.
Joanna took a deep breath, suppressing the angry protest trembling on
her lips. 'Not a thing,' she said stonily, acutely aware of Alan Morris's
interested presence.
Cal turned to him. 'I suspect she wanted to look round the cottage on
her own, then present me with a fait accompli ,' he said. 'I'm sorry,
darling. Have I spoiled your surprise?'
'Something like that,' Joanna said grimly, lifting her chin as she
walked past him into the sitting-room.
What the room lacked in size, it made up for in charm, with its
beamed ceiling and old-fashioned stone fireplace, now filled with a
lavish arrangement of dried flowers. A tall white-haired woman rose
to her feet from a chintz-covered sofa, and came forward to greet
them.
'Good morning.' Her handshake was firm. 'I'm Rosalie Osborne.
These are always such awkward occasions, aren't they? I've
suggested to your fiance that Mr Morris shows you round, while I
make some coffee and prepare to answer any questions you may
have. Would that suit you?'
'It sounds—ideal.' Joanna was tautly aware of Cal's hand, firmly
clasping her arm.
'I'm sure she'll love the cottage, Mrs Osborne,' he said pleasantly.
'Come along, darling. Shall we start with the kitchen?'
It was immediately apparent that no expense had been spared on the
cottage's refurbishment. The kitchen boasted a lavish range of fitted
oak units, as well as a generously sized dining area complete with
traditional dresser.
'Well, my sweet?' Cal's smiling gaze quizzed her. 'Can you see
yourself cooking delicious dinners for two at that stove?'
'Hardly,' Joanna returned tersely, through gritted teeth. 'Cooking isn't
one of my strong points,' she went on mendaciously. 'Perhaps you
could arrange for meals on wheels to be sent over from the country
club.'
'No need to go to those lengths,' he said drily. 'I'm considered a fair
chef myself. We won't starve.'
'That's good,' she said brightly. 'Shall we look at the rest?'
Mr Morris led the way upstairs, talking knowledgeably about loft
storage, timber guarantees, damp- proof courses and secondary
double glazing. Joanna let it all wash over her.
If she'd seen Kirkgate Cottage a week earlier, she would have made
an offer for it without hesitation, she thought sadly. It was exactly
what she wanted. Besides that, the whole cottage exuded a warm
tranquillity that appealed directly to her troubled senses. For the first
time in her life she could have created a home of her own.
'This is the main bedroom.' Mr Morris threw open a door with a
flourish. 'Incorporating one of the property's most appealing features.'
Cal stopped dead in his tracks. 'Good God,' he said blankly.
Joanna looked past him, her own lips parting in astonishment.
Greeting her gaze was an old-fashioned four-poster bed, complete
with frilled canopy and looped-back curtains.
Mr Morris regarded them with the satisfied expression of a novice
conjuror who had just successfully produced his first rabbit out of a
hat. 'Isn't it charming?'
'It's amazing,' Cal returned. 'How on earth did a thing that size get up
those stairs?'
'It didn't. When the late Mr Osborne bought it, he had it taken to
pieces, then reassembled in situ, as it were.' Mr Morris sounded as
proud as if he'd carried out the task single-handed. 'It now counts as a
fixture, and provision has been made in the asking price.' He patted
one of the carved and polished posts. 'To remove it would destroy the
whole romantic character of
here?' she demanded huskily.
He lifted an eyebrow in exaggerated surprise. 'I told you I was
planning to look at houses today. This was first on my list, and when
Gordon Wilby told me you were being shown it this morning I
decided the sensible thing, in the circumstances, was to bring my own
appointment forward, and look over it together. When I explained to
Gordon, he totally agreed with me. Why, is something wrong?' His
eyes glinted at her in challenge.
Joanna took a deep breath, suppressing the angry protest trembling on
her lips. 'Not a thing,' she said stonily, acutely aware of Alan Morris's
interested presence.
Cal turned to him. 'I suspect she wanted to look round the cottage on
her own, then present me with a fait accompli ,' he said. 'I'm sorry,
darling. Have I spoiled your surprise?'
'Something like that,' Joanna said grimly, lifting her chin as she
walked past him into the sitting-room.
What the room lacked in size, it made up for in charm, with its
beamed ceiling and old-fashioned stone fireplace, now filled with a
lavish arrangement of dried flowers. A tall white-haired woman rose
to her feet from a chintz-covered sofa, and came forward to greet
them.
'Good morning.' Her handshake was firm. 'I'm Rosalie Osborne.
These are always such awkward occasions, aren't they? I've
suggested to your fiance that Mr Morris shows you round, while I
make some coffee and prepare to answer any questions you may
have. Would that suit you?'
'It sounds—ideal.' Joanna was tautly aware of Cal's hand, firmly
clasping her arm.
'I'm sure she'll love the cottage, Mrs Osborne,' he said pleasantly.
'Come along, darling. Shall we start with the kitchen?'
It was immediately apparent that no expense had been spared on the
cottage's refurbishment. The kitchen boasted a lavish range of fitted
oak units, as well as a generously sized dining area complete with
traditional dresser.
'Well, my sweet?' Cal's smiling gaze quizzed her. 'Can you see
yourself cooking delicious dinners for two at that stove?'
'Hardly,' Joanna returned tersely, through gritted teeth. 'Cooking isn't
one of my strong points,' she went on mendaciously. 'Perhaps you
could arrange for meals on wheels to be sent over from the country
club.'
'No need to go to those lengths,' he said drily. 'I'm considered a fair
chef myself. We won't starve.'
'That's good,' she said brightly. 'Shall we look at the rest?'
Mr Morris led the way upstairs, talking knowledgeably about loft
storage, timber guarantees, damp- proof courses and secondary
double glazing. Joanna let it all wash over her.
If she'd seen Kirkgate Cottage a week earlier, she would have made
an offer for it without hesitation, she thought sadly. It was exactly
what she wanted. Besides that, the whole cottage exuded a warm
tranquillity that appealed directly to her troubled senses. For the first
time in her life she could have created a home of her own.
'This is the main bedroom.' Mr Morris threw open a door with a
flourish. 'Incorporating one of the property's most appealing features.'
Cal stopped dead in his tracks. 'Good God,' he said blankly.
Joanna looked past him, her own lips parting in astonishment.
Greeting her gaze was an old-fashioned four-poster bed, complete
with frilled canopy and looped-back curtains.
Mr Morris regarded them with the satisfied expression of a novice
conjuror who had just successfully produced his first rabbit out of a
hat. 'Isn't it charming?'
'It's amazing,' Cal returned. 'How on earth did a thing that size get up
those stairs?'
'It didn't. When the late Mr Osborne bought it, he had it taken to
pieces, then reassembled in situ, as it were.' Mr Morris sounded as
proud as if he'd carried out the task single-handed. 'It now counts as a
fixture, and provision has been made in the asking price.' He patted
one of the carved and polished posts. 'To remove it would destroy the
whole romantic character of
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