The Mistress of His Manor

by Catherine George

  ‘What can we do for you?’ said the woman instantly.

  Jo explained the situation. ‘I’m not sure what time Mrs Stern is arriving, but could you provide lunch when she does?’

  ‘Of course. Just give me a ring later.’

  Jo thanked her warmly, then frowned. ‘It’s just occurred to me—how did you know Rufus was here?’

  ‘The friend who drove him here had booked in for both of them,’ Dan told her.

  Trish nodded, looking worried. ‘But Rufus was up with the lark this morning, and no matter how I coaxed I couldn’t get him to eat breakfast. He looked so poorly I was worried.’

  ‘Migraine,’ Jo explained. ‘It was so bad Dr Harwood gave Rufus an injection to help him sleep it off. Did you know his friend?’

  Dan shook his head. ‘Never seen him before last night. Nice motor, though. You’ll probably bump into him on the way back. He went for a walk.’

  Jo thanked them both, but refused offers of coffee. ‘I’d better get back.’

  On her way back to the Hall, she stiffened as she saw an all too familiar figure leaning against the sundial in the middle of the terrace. At the sound of her footsteps the man turned, then smiled, his eyes widening in astonishment.

  ‘Jo! What are you doing here?’

  She eyed him coldly. ‘I might say the same of you, Charlie. I hear you drove Rufus to the Arnborough Arms last night. Where from?’

  ‘Heathrow.’ He seized her hand. ‘How are you? Not that I need ask. You look wonderful. I suppose you’ve come to look over Arnborough Hall? Amazing place. But it’s early yet. Let’s catch up over a drink at the pub.’

  ‘No, thanks.’ She pulled her hand away, and smiled as March came sprinting to join her. ‘All sorted with Trish.’

  ‘Good. I was wondering where you’d got to.’ He turned to the man watching them in astonished silence, and instantly morphed into Lord Arnborough. ‘Why, Mr Peel,’ he said coldly. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘He drove Rufus here from Heathrow last night,’ Jo informed him. ‘They stayed overnight at the Arnborough Arms.’

  Charlie quailed visibly at the look on March’s face. ‘It’s all right. I’ve got my licence back.’

  ‘How reassuring,’ said March affably. ‘I salute Rufus for his bravery.’

  Charlie flushed. ‘Is he around?’ he added hopefully. ‘He said he’d give me the tour before the punters arrive.’

  ‘I’m afraid there’s no chance of that,’ March informed him curtly. ‘My brother collapsed earlier, with one of the blinding migraines he’s been subject to since the accident. Our doctor gave him an injection and he’ll sleep for hours yet. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have things to do. When Rufus wakes I’ll tell him you called.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Charlie turned away, crestfallen, then paused, eyeing Jo blankly. ‘But where do you fit into all this? You hardly knew Red.’

  March took Jo’s hand. ‘Joanna is staying here as my guest.’

  ‘He was speechless,’ said March with satisfaction. ‘Though I intend to have a word in my brother’s ear. He must have been mad to get in a car with him again.’

  ‘Charlie’s changed a lot. He looks so much older it took me a minute to place him.’

  ‘When did you last see him?’

  ‘I haven’t laid eyes on him since the night of the accident. We had such a struggle when I tried to take his car keys away I lost my balance and fell over. By the time I was on my feet again Charlie was driving off. I wasn’t hurt,’ she added hastily. ‘Right. Let’s check on Rufus, then have some more coffee.’

  ‘Perhaps you could make a start on that,’ said March casually, ‘while I go over to the pub for a word with Dan.’

  Jo stiffened. ‘And a word with Charlie at the same time?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said baldly.

  ‘Please don’t.’

  His mouth tightened. ‘You don’t want me to hurt him?’

  ‘Not on my account.’ Her eyes held his. ‘If you do want me to get used to the idea of marrying you one day, Lord Arnborough—’

  ‘You know the answer to that!’

  ‘Then cut back on the testosterone and engage your brain. Think of the fuss a fight with Charlie would cause on your own doorstep if it involves me.’

  His fists unclenched. ‘You’re right, blast it. Hell of a pity, though. I’d give a lot to rearrange his face.’

  ‘I rather think,’ said Jo dryly, ‘that Charlie knew that.’

  ‘He’d better stay the hell away from Rufus,’ said March as they went upstairs. ‘Why do you think he got in touch with him? To apologise?’

  ‘If he did it was a means to an end—an entrée into your world. Charlie’s a climber. I was too young to realise my main attraction for him was my relationship to Jack.’ Jo pulled a face. ‘I didn’t have much else going for me, because according to Charlie I didn’t know how to please a man. Not sexy enough.’

  March seized her by the hand and hurried her along to his mother’s room. ‘Stay here for a moment,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll just take a look at Rufus.’

  Jo gazed down at the rumpled bed, suddenly warm at the memory of the rapture she’d experienced in it. March had shown her beyond all doubt that she’d pleased him in every possible way.

  ‘He’s sleeping peacefully,’ March reported, and took her in his arms. ‘Joanna, there’s something you should know.’

  She looked up at him with misgiving. ‘You’ve got a wife locked up in a tower somewhere?’

  ‘No. Nothing so melodramatic. I’d met Charles Peel only once before today, when he was in floods of tears over Rufus. I had my suspicions then, but seeing him again today confirmed them. You had no hope of pleasing him in bed, my darling, because, although he may still be lurking in the closet, he prefers his own sex.’

  Jo stared at him. ‘Is Rufus—?’

  ‘Lord, no. His fey kind of looks probably appeal to Charlie no end, but the only woman who’s ever interested Rufus is you.’ March’s mouth tightened. ‘But you’re mine.’ He kissed her hard, by way of emphasis, and Jo responded with a joyous agreement which delighted March so much he raised his head a fraction, his eyes gleaming into hers. ‘Let’s have a nap.’

  Jo blinked. ‘Surely you don’t mean—?’

  ‘I most certainly do,’ said March, and began undressing her at speed, kissing the places he laid bare with such demand they surged together with no preliminaries other than their need for each other, surrendering to the relentless rhythm that brought them at top speed to the fierce, throbbing rapture of fulfilment.

  ‘Convinced now that you’re sexy enough?’ said March roughly.

  ‘Getting there.’ Jo smiled at him. ‘Though I may need further convincing some time. But not right now. If I can trust my legs to hold me up I’d better do something about this bed while you check on Rufus. Will Hetty want to sleep in here?’

  ‘No. I will. She can keep to Rufus’s room, as usual.’

  ‘Then I’ll leave you to tidy the bed, milord. I’d like a bath. Have I got time before your sister arrives?’

  ‘Of course you have. It’s just my kid sister,’ he reminded her. ‘Not a state visit.’

  Jo felt so much better after the fastest bath of her life she no longer had qualms about meeting the Honourable Henrietta Stern—who, Jo had discovered, had very provocative taste in underwear.

  ‘Shall I confess to Hetty that I borrowed some of her things? They’re a lot saucier—and pricier—than mine,’ she said, when March came back to report that Rufus was still sleeping peacefully.

  ‘Confess if you want to. But I doubt she’ll miss them. Cal buys her that kind of stuff all the time, apparently.’ He grinned. ‘I’ll do the same for you once we’re married.’

  ‘Stop that!’ she said irritably. ‘Doing the lord and master bit won’t work, March Clement.’

  ‘I’m not that bad,’ he protested.

  ‘No, you’re not. Quite the reverse. I thought you were hot the first time we met,’ sh
e reminded him. ‘And recently, Lord Arnborough, you’ve given me indisputable proof that I was right.’ She flung out her arms to keep him off. ‘No, you don’t.’

  March took no notice. ‘You can’t say things like that and expect me to stay tame, Joanna Logan,’ he said, hugging her. ‘Thank you for the compliment. A man likes to know he’s come up to scratch as a lover.’

  ‘A woman does, too!’

  ‘You can’t still have any doubts?’ He rubbed his cheek against hers.

  ‘My confidence in my charms was squashed early on in my career.’

  ‘Damn Charlie Peel to hell,’ said March savagely, and kissed her until her head reeled. ‘You are everything a man could want. Intelligent, capable, beautiful, a damned good cook—and as icing on the cake you’re also dynamite in bed.’

  But it wasn’t enough. Because she wanted him to be passionately in love with her—the same way her father felt about Kate. Tears of disappointment welled in her eyes.

  March kissed them away, mistaking the reason for them, then went off to check on Rufus. When he came back he looked worried.

  ‘He’s so utterly still, Joanna. He’s breathing regularly, and his pulse is all right, but should he be sleeping this long?’

  ‘If you’re worried, ring the doctor again.’

  ‘I’ll leave it for an hour or two; then if he’s still the same I will.’ He held out his arms. ‘Now, come and comfort me. I just want to hold you for a while.’

  ‘Put that woman down, March Clement, and give me a hug,’ ordered a laughing feminine voice, and March released a hectically flushed Joanna to greet the woman smiling in the open doorway.

  Chapter Eleven

  ON HETTY STERN her brother’s dark good looks were translated into beauty so vivacious her smile was irresistible. Her black hair hung straight and glossy to the shoulders of a fringed suede jacket worn with jeans and cowboy boots, and great gold hoops swung in her ears as she launched herself at March for her hug.

  She planted smacking kisses on his cheeks, then shook him slightly. ‘Come on, then. Introduce me.’

  March’s lips twitched as he caught Jo by the hand. ‘Joanna—meet my sister, Mrs Calvin Stern. Hetty—allow me to present Miss Joanna Logan.’

  Hetty’s sharp eyes looked from his face to Jo’s. ‘Am I jumping the gun to offer congratulations?’

  ‘Afraid so,’ said March. ‘I want her to marry me, but she needs persuading.’

  Hetty took Jo by the hand. ‘You don’t like him enough?’

  Jo flushed. ‘That’s not the problem—’

  ‘She would much rather I was plain March Clement,’ he explained for her.

  ‘Do you love him, Joanna?’

  March’s eyes lit up as Jo nodded, flushing. ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Then what does his title matter?’

  ‘It’s not his title I worry about. I just can’t see myself as Lady Arnborough,’ sighed Jo.

  Hetty laughed and patted Jo’s hand encouragingly. ‘You’ll get used to it. You certainly look the part. You’re gorgeous.’

  ‘So are you,’ said Jo sincerely.

  ‘Thanks! You like the gear? Rodeo Drive meets Calamity Jane. I’d murder a cup of tea, by the way, but first I’ll just pop up and see baby brother.’

  ‘Leave that until later. He’s sleeping right now. And we can do better than just tea, Jo has arranged lunch.’ March filled a kettle while Jo set the table with a light lunch of poached salmon.

  ‘Fill me in, then,’ said Hetty, sitting down at the table. ‘What brought Rufus home?’

  ‘No idea.’ March supplied Hetty with what details they knew, including the doctor’s visit.

  ‘You mean Rufus actually let Charlie Peel drive him here?’ Hetty rolled her eyes. ‘Idiot. No wonder he’s got a headache. How did that come about?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’

  ‘What March hasn’t told you,’ said Jo, deciding to get it over with, ‘is that I’m the Jo Logan Rufus was so worried about after his accident. I was up at Oxford at the same time. Charlie Peel was my boyfriend.’

  ‘Joanna tried to take his car keys away that night, but he fought her off,’ said March grimly.

  ‘The swine!’ Hetty’s huge gold eyes opened in wonder. ‘But how amazing that Jo Logan was a girl all the time. And how clever of you to track her down at last, March.’

  ‘Actually, I didn’t.’ March reached to touch Jo’s hand. ‘Fate did it for me. We met right here—at the garden centre. Joanna was buying plants for her mother.’

  ‘I thought he was one of the gardeners,’ explained Jo.

  ‘While I thought she was married.’ March helped himself to more salmon. ‘I was deeply depressed about that, until I met up with her later and found she was single.’

  ‘I was with my father and my little sister,’ explained Jo.

  ‘How marvellous,’ said Hetty, rapt, and smiled at her brother. ‘So you fancied her like mad right away?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said simply, and smiled at Jo.

  ‘How about you, Joanna?’ demanded Hetty.

  ‘It was pretty much the same for me,’ admitted Jo. ‘I even told my mother I’d met this really hot gardener.’ She shot a dark look at March. ‘But he was pretty secretive about himself. We’d known each other quite a while before I found out he was Lord Arnborough.’

  ‘She was mad as hell with me.’ March grinned evilly at Jo. ‘Though she’d kept a secret or two about herself. She’s the daughter of the man behind Logan Development, but didn’t want the poor gardener to know her daddy had pots of money.’

  ‘You know why,’ she said hotly. ‘I wanted to be liked for myself.’

  ‘And March wanted to be liked as plain Mr Clement. How romantic!’ said Hetty, entranced, then sighed. ‘Before I drink more tea I just have to take a look at Rufus.’

  March nodded. ‘He’s in my room. But try not to disturb him, Hetty.’

  ‘Moi? Of course not. I shall be as quiet as a mouse.’

  ‘In those boots?’

  Hetty promptly heaved them off, and padded away in socks the bright orange of her sweater. ‘Back in a tick.’

  March smiled as the door closed behind her. ‘So you’ve met all my family now, Joanna Logan. I think it’s time you introduced me to yours.’

  ‘You’re rushing me again!’

  ‘I see no point in wasting time. I’m going to marry you, Joanna Logan, so get used to the idea.’

  Jo eyed him in appeal. ‘March, I need time for that. Give me a month of getting to know each other better.’

  ‘I shan’t change my mind. Ever.’ March got up and stalked round the table to take her face in his hands. ‘I care for you deeply, Joanna. I promise to make you a good husband. But at the end of this month you insist on either you wear my ring or I’m gone. For good.’

  Jo’s heart turned over at the note of finality she’d heard once before, and for a moment she was tempted to say yes to whatever he wanted. But something stubbornly independent in her make-up refused to let her. ‘Understood.’

  ‘Good.’ He went back to his place as Hetty returned, looking anxious.

  ‘He looks terrible, March. Cal’s not joining me for a day or two, so I think I’d better take Rufus to Sonning with me tomorrow and feed him up.’

  ‘Good idea—if he’ll go. He’s pretty hostile towards me at present.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Dog-in-the-manger attitude. The news that Jo belongs to me didn’t go down well.’

  Jo eyed him militantly. ‘Just for the record, I don’t belong to anyone.’

  March looked down his nose at her. ‘Oh, yes, you do. As I keep saying, you just need to get used to the idea.’

  Hetty chuckled. ‘I suppose March has told you I’m always lining up some female for him? Any one of them would jump at the chance to be Lady Arnborough. But he—in typical March fashion, of course—manages to find the one solitary woman who isn’t keen on the idea.’

  Jo shook her head. ‘Let me put you
straight on that. I am keen on March. Very much so.’

  Hetty beamed. ‘Well, then, just bite the bullet and take him with all his faults. Compared with most men, he doesn’t have many.’

  ‘Thank you, sister dear,’ said March dryly.

  ‘It’s true. Normally I wouldn’t say that to your face, of course, but your lady here needs to keep things in perspective. She would be marrying you, March, not the title.’ Hetty suddenly reached across to pat Jo’s hand. ‘Sorry. Here I am interfering, and I’m not even your sister-in-law. Yet.’

  Jo laughed. ‘Don’t apologise. You give good advice.’

  ‘I am, as always, delighted to see you, Hetty,’ said March dryly, ‘but why are you here? I thought you were coming next week.’

  Hetty sighed. ‘I’m chairperson of the Arnborough branch of a cancer research charity. The place we booked for the annual ball had a fire last week, would you believe? Easthope Court can’t oblige on the date, and neither can any other place with a ballroom. Because the orchestra and caterers are already booked, Candia Birkett, my co-organiser, is tearing her hair.’ Hetty smiled limpidly at her brother. ‘Please say we can have it here, March.’

  ‘Why didn’t she come direct to me?’ he demanded.

  ‘Because you make her nervous,’ retorted his sister, and grinned at Jo. ‘Candia is one of the wannabe Lady Arnboroughs.’

  ‘Of course you expect the venue for free,’ groaned March.

  ‘It’s a good cause, darling.’

  ‘When do you want it?’

  ‘Saturday week.’ Hetty fixed him with supplicating gold eyes. ‘Please say you haven’t booked something else here on that date!’

  ‘Luckily, no,’ he said grimly, and sighed. ‘All right. As long as you come back here next week to organise it. The last thing I want is Candia Birkett under my feet.’

  Hetty flew into his arms, hugging him tightly. ‘Thank you, March. You’re a hero. I’ll take Rufus off to Sonning for a few days first, then come back and arrange everything. Cal will be joining me next week, so you won’t be a lone defenceless male.’

  March turned to Jo with a grin. ‘And I can keep my promise to waltz with you.’

  ‘Something you may live to regret,’ she said, pulling a face.