The Rich Man's Bride

The Rich Man’s Bride

Catherine George

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

COLD, tired and desperate for an early night, for once Anna was glad she had the flat to herself when she got home. She gave a sigh of frustration as the bell on the street door rang and snatched up the receiver. If this was Sean, he was out of luck.

‘Ryder Wyndham,’ said a voice over the intercom.

Anna’s eyes lit up. ‘Ryder? What a lovely surprise. Come on up.’ She buzzed him in and opened her door to wait for him. She felt a sharp pang of sympathy when the new heir to the Wyndham Estate emerged from the lift. It was only months since she’d last seen him, but with his thick black curls cut close to his haggard face he looked years older and even taller than usual in a long dark overcoat over a formal suit and black tie.

She smiled warmly. ‘Hi. Come in.’

Her visitor stalked past her, looking round him at the room which reflected her landlady’s eclectic taste. ‘Are you alone, Anna?’

No smile, not even a hello? ‘Yes. How are you, Ryder?’

‘I’ve been better.’

She nodded gravely. ‘I was desperately sorry to hear about your brother. Edward’s death must have been a huge shock.’

‘It was,’ he agreed curtly.

‘Can I offer you a drink?’

He refused, giving her a head to toe scrutiny which rang warning bells in her head. ‘I suppose I can see his point,’ he said at last, mystifying her.

‘Whose point?’

‘I’m coming to that.’ His eyes remained hostile. ‘You don’t look it, but by my calculations you must be at least thirty-three now.’

She frowned. ‘You’ve come here to talk about my age, Ryder?’

‘No, dammit,’ he snarled. ‘I came to tell you, face to face, to leave my brother alone.’

Anna stared at him in blank amazement. ‘Dominic?’

‘Who else? Eddy’s dead,’ he said brutally.

She took in a deep, calming breath, trying to make allowances for him. ‘Look, Ryder, you’re obviously under great strain. Take your coat off; let me make you a drink.’

‘I don’t want a drink. I want to know what the hell you’re playing at!’

Anna’s chin lifted. ‘I think you’d better explain.’

‘By all means.’ His hostile eyes locked on hers. ‘After Dominic came here to break the news about Eddy, you were all he could talk about—how sexy and gorgeous you are these days, and how sweet you were to him. He came up to London several times before he went back to New York—’

‘You think he came to see me?’ she said in disbelief.

‘Officially he was visiting friends, but it’s obvious now that he was coming here to visit you, Anna. I was too taken up with my various problems to suspect where it was actually leading.’ His mouth twisted in disgust. ‘He’s barely twenty-three, so it’s glaringly obvious why a woman of your age should want to marry a man so much her junior.’

‘Great sex?’ retorted Anna, suddenly so furious she could have hit him.

‘In this case, money,’ he snapped, looking down his nose in disdain. ‘When Dominic told you he inherited a nice little packet from my aunt, you obviously sent the current man in your life packing and seized your chance.’

A surge of hurt anger welled up so violently it threatened to choke her. ‘I can’t believe you said that,’ she said at last, when she could trust her voice. ‘I had no idea Dominic had come into money. Nor do I care a toss if he did,’ she added savagely. ‘I have no intention of marrying your baby brother.’

‘You expect me to believe that?’ he demanded.

She stood with arms hugged across her chest. ‘Whether you believe it or not, it’s the truth, Squire. When he came to tell me about Edward it was the first time I’d seen Dominic in years. Just for the record,’ she added cuttingly, ‘he also paid me a second visit to say goodbye. And, if we’re still counting, I caught a brief glimpse of him at the funeral.’

Ryder frowned. ‘You were there? I didn’t see you.’

‘I left straight after the service to drive back to London.’

‘I see. Your grandfather passed on your condolences, but I didn’t know you’d actually made it to the church.’ His eyes hardened. ‘The fact remains that Dominic rang me from New York early this morning to say that you’d agreed to marry him.’

She stared in disbelief. ‘If he did, he was lying—or joking. The phone’s on the desk over there. Ring him right now and ask him. I won’t even charge you for the call.’

Ryder shook his head. ‘I’ve already tried, but I had no luck at his apartment and his mobile’s switched off. Before we got cut off he said something about ringing me with the details tonight. I had to come up to London today to sort out probate—’

‘So you came to warn me off at the same time. Or maybe even buy me off?’ She gave him a taunting smile. ‘What’s the going rate to get shot of unsuitable brides like me, Ryder?’

He gave her an icy stare. ‘That was never my intention, and you well know it.’

‘Oh, I see!’ Anna shook her head in mocking reproof. ‘You expected to order me off and I’d meekly agree, with no expense involved. A bit cheap for a man with your kind of money, Ryder!’

To her intense satisfaction his eyes blazed with outrage for an instant. ‘If I’m mistaken I shall, of course, apologise,’ he said stiffly.

‘If?’ Her eyes flashed coldly. ‘Not good enough, Squire. I demand an unqualified apology right now.’

He shook his head. ‘Not until I hear from Dominic. And for God’s sake stop this blasted Squire nonsense!’

‘Certainly.’ Anna turned on her heel, stalked to the outer door and flung it open. ‘I’d like you to leave now.’

A flicker of doubt lit the dark-ringed blue eyes as Ryder passed her. ‘Anna, if I’m wrong—’

‘Of course you’re wrong. Totally,’ she said scornfully. ‘And I deeply resent the insult about money. We don’t see each other so much any more, but I thought you knew me better than that.’

‘That’s the point. So did I.’ He went out on to the landing, then turned to look at her. ‘Anna—’

But Anna could take no more. She slammed the door shut so he wouldn’t see the tears she’d been too proud to shed in front of the new Squire of the Wyndham Estate.

Later that night Ryder Wyndham learned that his young brother’s proposal of marriage had been accepted by Hannah Breckenridge, granddaughter of the founder of the New York auction house which employed him. Not by Anna Morton, granddaughter of the Wyndham Estate head gamekeeper who’d taught Dominic to shoot and fish. Appalled, Ryder rang Anna immediately to apologise. She cut him off mid-sentence and refused to pick up when he rang back. Next day he sent flowers which Anna promptly gave to the caretaker for his wife. Finally Ryder called at the flat again to apologise in person, but Anna refused to let him in, and made it bitingly clear that the ban was permanent.

When they met again, almost a year later, it was in the last place either would have wished.

The fog thickened with every mile on the road through the Marches. When a break in the swirling mist revealed the signpost she was looking for, Anna turned off to drive at a snail’s pace through the familiar maze of intersecting roads and sighed with relief when she saw lights in Keeper’s Cottage. She drew up in the lane behind the car parked at the gate and got out, smiling guiltily as her father hurried down the path to greet her.

‘Hi, Dr Morton. They passed my message on at the surgery, then.’

‘By the time I got it you were well on your way so I didn’t risk ringing back.’ His voice was gruff with anxiety as he gave her a hug. ‘What in heaven’s name possessed you to drive from London alone so soon, Anna? And in this weather!’

‘Clare intended coming with me, but she started sneezing yesterday and stayed the night with her ex to avoid giving me her germs.’

‘Sensible girl, your landlady,’ he approved, taking her suitcase. ‘I’ve turned the heating up to maximum, so come in quickly and get warm. If I’d known you were so determined to come, I would have fetched you.’

‘Which is precisely why I didn’t tell you, Dad. You lead a busy enough life as it is without flogging up to London and back for the umpteenth time again,’ she said as he hurried her inside. ‘I wanted to save a hard-worked doctor the trouble.’

‘I am not recovering from pneumonia! And you look like a ghost.’ Her father took her pulse, then went into the kitchen to switch on the kettle. ‘I called at the village shop for eggs and milk and so on for your breakfast and the kitchen cupboards are still stocked with Father’s staples. But I’ll drive you to the Red Lion for dinner as soon as you’ve unpacked and Tom can bring you back afterwards. He should be there soon.’

Anna gave him a coaxing smile as he spooned tea-leaves into a warmed pot. ‘Dad, please don’t be hurt, but I’m too tired for that tonight. I promise I’ll eat supper, but after that I’m off to bed. Otherwise I won’t be up to much tomorrow. Apologise to my big brother.’

John Morton looked ready to argue, but in the end he nodded reluctantly and patted her cheek. ‘All right, pet. An early night is probably a better idea for you. But promise me you’ll eat first.’

Anna held up her hand. ‘I do solemnly swear that I shall scramble some eggs. And then I’ll have a bath and go to bed with a book. What time is the service tomorrow?’

‘Twelve noon, then back to the Red Lion afterwards. Father’s idea. He gave me his funeral instructions a while ago, complete with choice of hymns.’ John cleared his throat. ‘To save me any bother when the time came, he told me.’

‘Oh, Dad,’ whispered Anna, her eyes filling. Her father held her tightly for a moment, then took her suitcase up to her room.

‘I’m really not happy about leaving you alone here tonight, Anna,’ he said forcibly when he came down. ‘If I’d known you meant to come, Tom and I could have stayed here with you. We still could, for that matter.’

She smiled ruefully. ‘Dad, don’t be offended, but just this once I really need to be on my own here.’

He touched a hand to her cheek. ‘I understand. Now, I’d better go. But, for God’s sake, ring if you feel ill.’

‘Dad, I’ll be fine!’

‘I hope so.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll be round in the morning early to make sure you’ve had breakfast.’

Anna waved him off, then suddenly so weary she needed to hang on to the rope looped through rings fastened in the wall she went upstairs. When she made it to the top she leaned in the open doorway of her grandfather’s room for a moment to catch her breath. Formal photographs of herself and Tom at their degree ceremonies stood on the chest of drawers, alongside a small snapshot of them with Ryder Wyndham, all three youngsters grinning in triumph as they held up the trout they’d caught. She gazed at it through a mist of tears, then scrubbed at her eyes, blew her nose and went next door to her own room to unpack a black suit she normally wore to work. Black was no longer mandatory for funerals these days, but her grandfather would have expected his family to show proper respect. And no one deserved it more than Hector Morton.

In the bathroom later Anna’s eyebrows rose in surprise. The expensive fittings and gleaming white paint were all new since her last visit. Her mouth tightened as she went downstairs. The squire certainly believed in keeping up the value on his property. Just a few months previously the small kitchen had been fitted with new cupboards and appliances and the overpowering black of the overhead beams shot-blasted back to the original wood throughout the house to add light. And it still amazed her that so much trouble had been taken over a tied cottage. Hector Morton had once been head gamekeeper of the estate, it was true. His original home had been a sizeable house which went with the job, but after his wife died he’d requested a move to Keeper’s Cottage, which Anna fell in love with at the age of eight because it looked like something from Hansel and Gretel. The exterior’s wreathing wisteria and latticed windows still retained the fairy-tale look, but since the renovations the interior looked like something from a magazine.

Anna went to the pantry to fetch eggs for her supper and discovered that part of the room had been partitioned off to create a brand-new shower cubicle. She began to laugh and ran to the parlour, fully expecting to find the giant inglenook fireplace transformed into a conservatory at the very least. But here all was more or less familiar. The two sofas had new fawn slip covers but they still faced each other in front of the big fireplace, with the familiar little Jacobean table in its place between them, and four Windsor chairs were still grouped with a small folding dining table against the inner wall. The shock discovery here was a brand-new television.

Anna rang her father before starting on her supper. ‘What on earth has been going on here, Dad?’

‘I thought you’d enjoy the surprise,’ John said, chuckling. ‘The bathroom had a makeover when the shower went in downstairs, but I’m to blame for the television. I bought it when Father had that bout of flu and couldn’t go out—though I doubt that he ever watched anything other than newscasts.’

‘I doubt it, too! Love to Tom. I’ll see you both in the morning.’

After supper Anna had a quick bath, then pulled on pyjamas and fleece dressing gown and went to work on her hair, praying that a good night’s sleep would do something for the circles under her eyes. But once she was settled against stacked pillows later she felt a lot better, as she always did the moment she was through the door of Keeper’s Cottage.

True to his word, John Morton arrived at nine next morning to find his daughter at the table, reading yesterday’s paper. She smiled smugly as she held her face up for his kiss.

‘There!’ She showed him the remains of her toast and marmalade. ‘I’ve eaten breakfast. Have you?’

‘Far too much.’ He patted his spare midriff ruefully.

‘What’s Tom doing?’

‘I told him to have a lie-in for once, but he’s up now. When I left he was wolfing down everything the Red Lion had to offer.’ John glanced at the paper Anna had been reading. ‘I thought I’d cancelled that.’

‘It’s mine. I brought it with me.’ She handed him a cup of tea. ‘Sit down for a minute, Dad. There’s something I want to say.’

His dark eyes narrowed anxiously. ‘That sounds ominous!’

‘Not really.’ She braced herself. ‘It’s just that if Ryder Wyndham gives me permission I’d like to do my convalescing here at the cottage.’

Her father frowned. ‘But this place is a bit isolated, Anna. Are you sure it’s a good idea?’

‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘I feel much better already, after just one night here.’

He eyed her closely. ‘You certainly look more rested.’

‘For the first time in ages I slept like a baby.’ Anna looked at him in appeal. ‘Dad, you and Tom both saw Gramp more recently than I did, thanks to my stay in hospital. I really need this time here to say my goodbyes to him.’

He nodded slowly in agreement. ‘I’m sure an old friend like Ryder won’t object.’ He downed his tea and stood up. ‘Right. I must get back. Several people arrived last night, but quite a few more are booked in for today, so I’d better be on hand with Tom when they turn up. I’ll be back for you at—’

‘No, you won’t, Dad! There’s no point in doubling back from the village to collect me. I’ll drive over and meet you both there.’

He shook his head. ‘Stubborn to the last! We’ll wait for you outside the church, then. And wear something warm.’

‘Yes, Doctor.’

Anna kissed him goodbye, then cleared away the breakfast pots and went upstairs to deal with the bright hair inherited from the mother who’d died when Anna was eight. Of pneumonia, she thought with contrition. No wonder her father was concerned. But, unlike her delicate mother, she was normally as fit as a fiddle. By the time she’d vegetated here for a few days—subject to the Squire’s approval, she reminded herself acidly—she’d be strong as a horse again and ready to get back to her job.

At ten-thirty she was ready in the slim black suit worn with a silk camisole over one of the lacy vests Clare had waiting when Anna was discharged from hospital. She added a long black overcoat, brushed a stray tendril back into her upswept knot of hair and put on dark glasses. She locked up carefully and then on impulse picked a posy of snowdrops from a flower bed, and threaded them through a buttonhole.

When Anna arrived at the church it was no surprise to find a long line of cars there before her. Hector Morton had been much respected as well as universally liked. A decent turnout was only to be expected. Anna smiled as her brother, sober-suited and his thatch of dark hair tidy for once, hurried to give her a rib-cracking hug as he helped her out of the car.

‘You look pale but gorgeous with it,’ he said, holding her away to look at her. ‘I like the celebrity shades.’

‘Camouflage in case I cry.’ She eyed him in approval. ‘You look pretty good yourself, Tom. After the long hours you moan about I thought you’d be wan and haggard.’

‘I was when I got here, but the cure was simple—a night’s sleep followed by the biggest breakfast of my entire life,’ he informed her, grinning. ‘And, unless that’s a very clever paint job, you look a damn sight better than you did in hospital.’

‘I’m absolutely fine now,’ she said firmly as they joined their father.

John kissed her cheek. ‘You look lovely, darling.’ He took Anna and Tom aside as the hearse glided to a stop outside the lych-gate. ‘We follow him down the aisle,’ he said in an undertone.

Faced with the harsh reality of the flower-crowned coffin, Anna heaved in an unsteady breath, grateful for Tom’s supporting arm as they entered the church. From that moment on the entire service passed in one long act of self-control. She sang the hymns her grandfather had chosen and even managed to listen without breaking down when her father spoke with humour and deep affection about Hector Morton, beloved father, grandfather and lifelong friend to many of those present.

In the churchyard later Ryder Wyndham stood slightly apart from the other mourners, watching as Anna took snowdrops from her buttonhole to let them drift down on the coffin in silent goodbye. When she looked up at last she gazed at him for a moment through the dark, concealing lenses, then inclined her head in slight, unsmiling acknowledgement and turned away.

Shaken by the silent exchange, Anna would have given much to drive straight back to the cottage there and then. Instead she walked across the village green to the Red Lion and took her place beside her father and Tom to welcome an assortment of relatives and friends. She responded to kisses and condolences, assured people that she was well now and listened to affectionate reminiscences about her grandfather. Her tension mounted steadily until at last, during one of her regular checks to make sure no elderly relative was left alone, she saw Ryder Wyndham approaching.

‘How good of you to come,’ she said formally and held out her hand very deliberately to prevent him from kissing her cheek, as most other people had done.

He shook the hand briefly, his handsome face grave. ‘Hector was my oldest friend, Anna. I shall miss him very much.’

‘So shall I.’

‘Hi there, Squire,’ said Tom as he came to join them. ‘Long time no see.’

‘Far too long, Doctor.’ Ryder smiled warmly as he shook Tom’s hand. ‘You should take a break and go fishing with me again.’

‘Nothing I’d like better,’ said Tom promptly. ‘Look, we’re staying here tonight. Why not come over for a drink and a chat later when it’s quiet?’

‘Thank you. I may well do that.’ Ryder turned to Anna with concern. ‘You’re very pale. Let me get you some brandy.’

‘She’s just out of hospital. This was a huge strain for her today,’ said Tom, eyeing her closely. ‘How do you feel, love?’

‘Absolutely fine,’ she assured him and smiled politely at Ryder. ‘I’ll pass on the brandy, thanks, but I would like a word with you. Could you spare me a few moments tomorrow at the cottage—Mr Wyndham?’

His jaw clenched at the formality. ‘Of course, whatever time suits you.’

‘Eleven, then?’

‘Eleven it is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must speak to your father.’

Anna nodded graciously. ‘Thank you so much for coming.’

‘You knew I’d be here.’ He turned to smile at Tom. ‘I meant it about the fishing. Give me a ring when the season starts.’

‘You bet, Ryder. Thanks a lot.’

Anna watched Ryder Wyndham thread his way through the room, pausing to speak with various people as he went.

‘Did I detect a certain froideur towards the Squire?’ asked Tom dryly.

‘Better not call him that to his face. I’ve heard he doesn’t like it.’ ‘He wasn’t too keen on the Mr Wyndham tag, either. What was all that about?’

She shrugged. ‘It seemed to suit the occasion.’

‘He was right, though. You look ready to drop.’ Tom gave her a professional scrutiny. ‘Look, I’ve had nothing much to drink yet, Anna. I’ll drive you back to Keeper’s. I can get your car back to you tomorrow.’

She shook her head firmly. ‘No, thanks, Tom. I’ll be much happier if you stay here to support Dad.’

Some people took so long over their leave-taking it was an hour before Anna could kiss her father goodbye and let Tom walk her to her car.

‘Text me as soon as you get back,’ he ordered. ‘And drive carefully.’

‘It’s not far, Tom!’

It was exactly three miles door to door from the church to Keeper’s Cottage, but it felt more like thirty to Anna by the time she parked outside in the lane. The garden path seemed longer than usual and the cottage so dark and quiet she switched on all the lights before sending a message to Tom to report in. Shivering with a mixture of reaction and cold, she turned up the heating and went upstairs to change. With a sigh of relief, she toed off her high black heels and exchanged her mourning black for grey flannel trousers, her heaviest roll-neck sweater and the sheepskin slippers her grandfather had bought for her in the local market on her last visit. She’d laughed at the time, but right now her icy, aching toes were deeply grateful for their warmth.

After a phone call to Clare to ask about her cold and report that all had gone smoothly, Anna unpinned her hair and wove it into a loose braid, then went downstairs to begin the ritual of making tea in her grandfather’s brown pot. She could cry at last if she wanted. But, in the perverse way of such things, she had no tears left now there was no one to see.

While Anna was looking through the cupboards to decide on her supper menu, Tom rang to ask if she’d changed her mind about having dinner with them.

‘No, Tom. The cottage is warm and, much as I’ll miss your company, I’d rather stay here and open a tin.’

He sighed. ‘OK, if you’re sure, Anna. It just seems wrong that we’re here and you’re up there alone.’

‘As soon as you and Dad get a weekend off together I’ll cook dinner in the flat. Clare would love that. So would I.’

‘Me too, great idea. OK—no more nagging. We’ll call in to see you when we set off in the morning. Have a good night, but ring if you need us.’

‘I’ll probably sleep like a log again. This cottage has good vibes for me, Tom, always has.’

‘I know. Otherwise Dad wouldn’t let you stay there alone, even at your age.’

Anna smiled as she rang off. These days no one ‘let’ her do anything; not even her father.