The Unwilling Mistress

Maybe that was his problem, she realized a little disgruntledly. Perhaps he thought she might try to follow up on his earlier dinner invitation? That she had done this for some hidden reason of her own?

Well, he needn’t worry, she had no intention of bothering him even if he did move into the studio for a couple of weeks; she was out at work all day, and busy with chores about the farm the rest of the time. Besides, she had the distinct feeling that Will Davenport was way out of her league…

‘Put the kettle on, March,’ her sister instructed firmly once they were in the warmth of the kitchen, Will Davenport still not looking any happier as he sat at the kitchen table. ‘You obviously had no idea that this was March’s home, too?’ May prompted as she sat down opposite him.

‘None at all.’ He seemed to rouse himself out of his stupor for a few seconds as he looked up at March. ‘You would be March Calendar?’

She grinned. ‘I certainly would.’

May frowned across at March before turning her attention back to their visitor. ‘My sister sometimes has a warped sense of humour—’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ March cut in impatiently.

‘It was only a little joke. What possible difference can it make that I live here too?’ she added irritably.

May sighed. ‘Well, if I were in Will’s shoes—’

‘Which you obviously aren’t,’ March taunted; Will Davenport’s shoes, indeed all his clothes, looked much more expensive than anything they could afford!

Her sister glared at her. ‘March, when are you going to learn that you just can’t do things like this? You’re twenty-six years old, for goodness’ sake, not six!’

Her cheeks became flushed at her sister’s rebuke. ‘It was a joke,’ she repeated incredulously.

‘It may have been—’

‘It really is all right, May,’ Will Davenport cut in lightly. ‘March was just settling a score from this morning. Right?’ He looked at her with narrowed blue eyes.

March shrugged. ‘Well, I thought it was funny,’ she muttered disgustedly.

And, no matter what May might say, it was funny. But March also knew the reason for May’s concern; the money they would receive from letting the studio for two weeks would come in very handy. Any extra money always came in handy on a small farm like this one!

Will Davenport seemed to visibly relax. ‘It was. It is.’ He nodded ruefully. ‘You see, May, I rather inconvenienced March this morning by “usurping” her parking space,’ he explained wryly, at the same time shooting March a derisive look. ‘This was obviously pay-back time.’ His gaze was mocking on March now. ‘Well, I’m afraid the joke is on you, March—because I have every intention of renting the studio for a couple of weeks. If that’s okay with you?’ He turned back to May.

‘Hey, I live here too,’ March defended ruefully.

‘I think we’re now all well aware of that fact!’ May bit out impatiently.

Will Davenport began to smile, the smile turning into a chuckle. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy my stay here, after all,’ he murmured appreciatively.

‘How could you have doubted it?’ March came back mockingly, more than a little relieved that he had decided to stay after all; May really would never have forgiven her if he had decided not to simply because of the joke she had played on him.

‘Only too easily, I would have thought,’ May snapped, but she was smiling too now.

‘I was thinking of moving in later this afternoon, if that’s okay?’ their new paying guest prompted lightly.

‘He hates staying in hotels,’ March put in derisively.

‘Of course it’s okay for you to move in today,’ May confirmed. ‘The studio should be thoroughly warm by this evening,’ she added apologetically.

Something it obviously wasn’t yet. Despite March’s prompt call earlier so that May could go over and switch on the heating for their visitor. The studio hadn’t been used since last summer, and so there hadn’t been any heating on over there, either.

‘Although you might prefer to come over and have dinner with us just for this evening?’ May continued frowningly.

Now that was just going too far in March’s opinion. The man was supposed to be renting the studio, completely independent of them and the farm, not moving in with them!

Will Davenport sat back in his chair to shoot her a knowing smile—as if he were only too well aware of what she was thinking. Which he probably was; she never had been any good at hiding her feelings! And with this man, someone who wouldn’t be around long enough to matter, she didn’t see why she should bother…

‘How about that, March?’ he drawled mockingly. ‘We can have dinner together, after all!’

Oh, goody—she didn’t think!

‘Will invited me out to dinner earlier,’ she told May bluntly as her sister looked slightly puzzled by the conversation.

May looked speculative now as she glanced first at Will Davenport and then more closely at March. ‘Really?’ she finally murmured enigmatically.

‘Really!’ March confirmed with a certain amount of resentment; the last thing she wanted was for her eldest sister to start thinking there was actually anything between Will Davenport and herself—because there wasn’t. ‘I said no, of course,’ she said flatly. ‘One can never be too careful, can one?’ she added pointedly.

May turned to Will Davenport. ‘Our younger sister used to sing at a hotel in town and was recently—involved, in the arrest of a man who was attacking people in this area,’ she explained with a grimace.

‘I sincerely hope you’re not implying that I—’

‘No, of course not,’ May laughingly dismissed Will Davenport’s mocking query. ‘It just wasn’t very pleasant, for January, or anyone else, for that matter,’ she added with a frown. ‘In fact, her fiancé has taken her away for a short holiday to get over it.’

‘January?’ Will Davenport echoed ruefully. ‘Your parents certainly liked the names of months for their children, didn’t they?’

‘Personally, I’ve always been rather relieved I wasn’t born in September,’ March put in dryly. ‘I can imagine nothing worse than going through life being called Sept! I suppose August wouldn’t have been too bad—’ She broke off as May spluttered with laughter.

‘That wouldn’t have suited you at all!’ May explained with a grin.

‘No, March suits you perfectly,’ Will Davenport assured her wryly.

March gave him a narrow-eyed look as she placed the mug of tea on the table in front of him.

He returned her gaze with a look that was just too innocent for her liking. ‘I’ve always looked on the month of March as brisk and crisp, the month that blows all the cobwebs away,’ he drawled mockingly.

‘That’s March to a T!’ May confirmed with another laugh.

‘Thanks very much!’ she muttered disgruntledly.

‘You’re welcome.’ Will gave a derisive inclination of his head before turning back to May. ‘Dinner this evening sounds wonderful—if you’re sure I’m not intruding?’

Of course he was intruding. But, as March knew only too well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the money he would pay them in rent over the next two weeks—once they had paid the commission to Carter and Jones, of course—would be very useful. The roof needed fixing on the barn, for one thing, and there were any number of small jobs about the farm that needed doing.

No, all things considered, she didn’t mind this man ‘intruding’ for two weeks.

Will couldn’t get over the likeness between the two sisters. He probably should have realized the connection when May Calendar had introduced herself on his arrival, but at the time he had had something much more important to occupy his mind.

As it still occupied his mind!

‘You said your sister January is away on holiday with her fiancé at the moment?’ he prompted lightly.

‘Max.’ May nodded with an affectionate smile. ‘It’s been rather a whirlwind romance, but we like him, don’t we, March?’ She looked up at her sister for confirmation.

Giving Will a few seconds’ reprieve to come to terms with this latest piece of information. Max had got himself engaged to one of the Calendar sisters? Well, that certainly explained a lot!

‘We do now,’ March said with satisfaction.

‘Oh?’ Will prompted interestedly.

But not too interestedly, he hoped; he might have walked into the lion’s den by accident—designed by March Calendar herself, if she did but know it!—but he was staying through choice.

He liked these two women. But especially March, with her quirky sense of humour and her outspokenness. It was refreshing to meet someone who said exactly what she thought. Or, if she didn’t exactly say it, looked what she thought.

But he was still stunned by the fact that Max had become so personally involved with this family that he was actually going to marry one of them. Max had been a loner for as long as Will could remember, had always scorned the very idea of love, let alone marriage. Although if January was anything like March and May, perhaps the attraction was understandable…

Yes, he liked these two women, but whether or not they were still going to like him at the end of two weeks was another matter…

‘Just a little family problem,’ May answered him dismissively.

‘Anything I could help with?’ Even as he asked the question Will knew he had gone too far, could see the puzzlement in May’s expression, March’s more openly hostile.

‘Not unless you’re acquainted with Jude Marshall,’ March bit out hardly. ‘Max is a lawyer, originally sent here on Jude Marshall’s behalf to buy our farm,’ she explained at Will’s frowning look. ‘Which we aren’t interested in selling!’ she added with a pointedly determined look in May’s direction.

A look Will was all too aware of. Dissension in the ranks? It certainly looked like it. May’s next words confirmed it.

‘We’re thinking about it, March,’ she told her sister.

‘You might be—but I’m certainly not,’ March snapped, two spots of angry colour now in the paleness of her cheeks.

May sighed before turning back to Will. ‘You’ll have to excuse us, I’m afraid, Mr Davenport—’

‘Will,’ he put in smoothly.

May smiled in acknowledgement. ‘I’m afraid that whether or not we should sell the farm is an ongoing problem at the moment.’ She gave a rueful shake of her head.

‘May thinks we should, and I don’t agree with her,’ March snapped unnecessarily.

‘And what does January think?’ Will was intrigued about the younger sister, in spite of himself. Although he had already guessed at the rift between March and May over the situation…

‘She’ll go along with whatever I decide,’ March announced triumphantly.

‘Whatever you decide?’ he prompted mildly; there were three sisters, shouldn’t they all decide?

‘Yes, you see May is—’

‘I think we’ve bored Mr—Will,’ May corrected at Will’s gently reproving look. ‘We’ve bored him with our problems long enough for one day, March,’ she stated firmly as she stood up. ‘The only thing that Will needs to know is that we definitely won’t be selling the farm during the two weeks he wants to stay here,’ she added lightly.

‘That’s a relief.’ He smiled, preparing to leave as he took May having stood up as his cue to leave. ‘I should be back by about five o’clock, if that’s okay?’

May nodded. ‘The garage beneath the studio is for your use.’

‘Yes.’ March grinned now. ‘One fall of snow and you could lose your little car underneath it!’

What March described as a ‘little car’ was in fact a Ferrari! It was Will’s pride and joy, the culmination of years of hard work. But, he had to admit, March was probably right about the snow! Yorkshire was having a particularly hard winter this year, many people having been snowbound in their homes until the last few days.

He gave a rueful smile. ‘I’ll try to remember that.’ He nodded.

‘Dinner is at seven o’clock,’ May told him briskly as she walked to the door with him.

‘Stew and dumplings tonight, isn’t it, May?’ March put in with a deliberately mocking smile in Will’s direction.

She obviously didn’t see him as a man who normally ate such nourishingly basic fare, and in one way she was probably right; he lived alone, had a busy life, and things like home cooking were not a luxury he could afford. Although he didn’t think March would understand what he meant by that…

‘It sounds wonderful,’ he told May warmly.

‘Just like your old granny used to make?’ March put in tauntingly.

‘March!’ May winced laughingly.

‘Let’s hope so,’ Will answered March dryly. ‘My grandmother is a first-class cook!’ he added challengingly, rewarded with the satisfaction of seeing that superior smile wiped off March’s beautiful face!

‘So was ours, and she taught us all to cook,’ May assured him smilingly, lightly touching the sleeve of his coat in apology for March’s outspokenness.

Strange that it was their grandmother who had taught the three sisters to cook, and not their mother…?

‘There you are, March; something we have in common!’ He grinned across at her.

‘It’s probably the only thing,’ she muttered in reply.

Causing Will’s grin to widen appreciatively. This woman really did have an answer for everything!

‘Any chance of a home-made apple pie to go with the stew and dumplings?’ he prompted hopefully. ‘My grandmother makes the most mouth-watering pastry too,’ he added dryly.

‘Would you like us to get out the best silver and white table linen too?’ March came back impatiently.

He raised mocking blond brows. ‘Not unless it’s what you normally do, no.’

‘Hardly,’ she scorned.

‘It was only a suggestion about the pie.’ He shrugged, laughter gleaming in his eyes at March’s obvious disgust with the whole conversation. ‘Obviously if you can’t make mouth-watering pastry—’

‘Oh, but she can,’ May put in, laughter lurking in her own eyes now as she listened to the exchange with obvious enjoyment. ‘The art of making good pastry is having cold hands, I’m told,’ she added mischievously.

‘“Cold hands warm heart”?’ Will returned teasingly.

‘Let’s leave my heart out of it,’ March put in disgustedly.

Hmm, perhaps they had better, Will agreed with an inward frown. It was one thing to have a little fun at March Calendar’s expense—as she had done earlier with him!—quite another for him to actually become involved with any of the Calendar sisters.

From all accounts, with Max’s recent—surprising!—engagement to January Calendar, his friend had already fallen into that particular trap; he didn’t think Jude would appreciate having Will do it too!

CHAPTER THREE

‘I CAN’T believe I’m actually doing this,’ March muttered as she rolled out the pastry for the apple pie.

May chuckled behind her as she laid the kitchen table for their evening meal.

‘Will Davenport had better eat this after I’ve gone to all this trouble!’ March added disgruntledly.

‘Why did you send him here if you don’t like him?’ May sounded puzzled. ‘Although, personally, I have to say I found him extremely charming.’

March continued to make the pie. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Will Davenport—she did, too much if the truth were told—but there was just something about him… Maybe she was imagining it, but she just had a feeling there was something he wasn’t telling them.

Which was pretty stupid, when she actually thought about it; considering they really knew very little about Will Davenport, not even the reason he was in the area on business, there was a lot they didn’t know about him!

‘I hope the studio is warmer now,’ May added worriedly, glancing out the kitchen window across to the garage/studio.

Will had arrived back at the farm over an hour ago, the lights on above the garage to show his occupancy, although they had seen nothing of the man himself.

Although that was soon going to change, March realized after a brief glance at the clock; in just over half an hour, Will was going to arrive for dinner.

‘Did he say anything to you about why he’s in the area?’ March prompted her sister casually as she cleared away her mess.

‘Just looking around,’ May answered distractedly, obviously still worried about the heating in the studio.

‘At what?’ March turned to her sister frowningly.

May shrugged. ‘He didn’t say.’

‘Why didn’t you ask?’ March sighed frustratedly. ‘I would have done.’

‘I know you would have done.’ Her sister gave a frustrated shake of her head. ‘You didn’t answer my question about why you don’t like him?’ she reminded shrewdly.

‘I don’t have to like the man in order to rent the studio to him,’ March snapped, totally avoiding meeting her sister’s probing gaze.

‘Mercenary.’ May laughed softly.

Not at all. But if she was going to manage to keep the farm at all then the studio would have to be let as much as possible to help pay the way. Which meant she couldn’t be too choosy about whom she let it to!

Until quite recently the three sisters had been unanimous in their determination to keep the farm. But all that had changed in the last few weeks. January had just become engaged to Max, and it was pretty obvious that they weren’t going to wait too long before getting married. And May, whose hobby was acting in the local amateur dramatic society, had recently been spotted by a film director who was interested in casting her in the film he was to make in the summer. Which left only March…

Maybe it didn’t make much sense, or maybe she was just being her normal stubborn self, but March didn’t want to sell the farm to this elusive Jude Marshall just so that he could include it in the neighbouring estate, which he had recently purchased, to make into an extensive health and country club! From the little she had been able to find out, the farm was to become part of the golf club he intended building on the complex. A golf club, for goodness’ sake—when her family had lived and worked on this farm for generations.

March turned from putting the pie in the oven, frowning slightly. ‘Talking about money—’

‘When aren’t we?’ May put in disgustedly.

March smiled in sympathy. ‘For once I wasn’t referring to our own lack of it.’ She grimaced. ‘There’s something going on at the agency that just doesn’t make sense to me. Well, it does. But—’ She broke off as a brief knock sounded on the kitchen door, rapidly followed by Will Davenport’s expected appearance. ‘Never mind,’ March told her sister dismissively. ‘I’ll talk to you about it some other time.’

‘Am I too early?’ Will hesitated in the doorway at March’s glare.

‘Of course not,’ May was the one to answer him welcomingly—cutting off March’s more blunt reply!—quickly pulling Will inside and shutting the door to keep out the cold.

Something March was grateful for, knowing herself overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of uncharacteristic shyness.

She hadn’t really thought that Will Davenport would actually want to rent the studio, had been, as he’d said earlier, just paying him back a little for his ungentlemanly behaviour of this morning. But now that he had decided to rent the studio, after all, she realized just how attracted she was to him.

Which was pretty stupid of her, in the circumstances; Will was only going to be around for a couple of weeks, would then leave to return to heaven knew where. Could even be—that dinner invitation apart!—returning to his wife and children, for all she knew!

But just looking at him beneath lowered lashes was enough to make her heart skip a beat. He was so tall his head almost brushed the beamed ceiling, that silver-blond hair falling endearingly across his forehead, blue eyes gleaming with good humour, lithely attractive in a thick blue sweater and faded blue denims.

Who was Will Davenport? More to the point, what was he doing in the area? Until she at least had the answer to those questions, perhaps she had better err on the side of caution—

Better err on the side of caution! What was wrong with her? Didn’t she have enough on her plate, trying to find ways in which she could keep the farm, without adding the complication of being attracted to Will Davenport?

‘Is that an apple pie I smell cooking?’ He sniffed the air appreciatively, blue eyes gleaming with laughter as he looked across at March challengingly.

Her mouth twisted derisively. ‘Somehow I doubt it,’ she drawled. ‘There is no smell of cooking from an Aga,’ she added as she took pity on his look of disappointment.

‘Your sister does love her little joke, doesn’t she?’ He grimaced at May.

‘More like a twisted sense of humour,’ May murmured affectionately, taking his jacket and hanging it behind the door. ‘I hope eating in the kitchen is okay with you,’ she added frowningly.

‘It happens to be the warmest room in the house,’ March put in bluntly; they always ate in the kitchen, so why apologize for it?

‘This is great,’ Will enthused. ‘Once I’m settled in you must let me return the compliment and give the two of you dinner.’

That was an interesting concept—considering the studio was really only a bathroom, and one other large room that had to serve as kitchen, dining-room and bedroom. Very cosy!

‘At a restaurant,’ Will told March dryly as he was obviously able to read her thoughts.

That was the problem with having a mirror-face—she was completely unable to hide her feelings. But with any luck Will hadn’t been looking at her earlier when she’d inwardly acknowledged just how attractive he was. Although she wouldn’t count on it!

‘Have a glass of wine,’ she bit out abruptly, at the same time placing the glass down on the table ready for him to sit down. Maybe if he sat down the kitchen would no longer feel so cramped.

‘Thanks.’ He moved with fluid grace as he lowered his long length onto one of the kitchen chairs. ‘So which one of you is the artist?’ he prompted interestedly.

March’s hand trembled so much she almost dropped her own glass of wine, looking across at him with widely dilated eyes, the sudden silence in the kitchen seeming oppressive.

Uh oh, looked as if he had put his foot in it again, Will realized with an inward grimace.

Unfortunately, there were so many things he couldn’t discuss with the two Calendar sisters that he had decided to opt for what he’d thought was a neutral subject—only to realize by the tense silence that followed his casual enquiry that he had unwittingly walked into what looked like a minefield.

‘Or perhaps I’m mistaken in thinking it was ever an artist’s studio,’ he continued evenly, knowing he wasn’t mistaken at all.

His look around the studio at lunchtime had only been cursory, enough to tell him that it would be more than comfortable enough for the couple of weeks he intended staying in the area. A more leisurely mooch around on his return this evening had shown him the huge windows along one wall to allow in the maximum amount of light, pulling down the ladder to go up into the attic, that brief glance enough for him to have seen a paint-daubed easel and the stack of paintings against one wall.

He hadn’t actually intruded any further than that brief look—and from the look of consternation now on May’s face, the openly accusing one on March’s, he was glad that he hadn’t!

‘I was,’ March snapped coldly, her beautiful eyes now the grey-green of a wintry storm-tossed sea.

‘Was?’ Will echoed softly—dangerously? March certainly didn’t look as if she cared to discuss the subject any further!

‘She still is,’ May briskly broke the awkwardness of the moment.

‘No-I-am-not,’ March bit out forcefully.

Ouch. He really had put his foot in it this time, hadn’t he? It wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with. Well educated, known and respected in his own field, he was accustomed to talking comfortably and confidently on any subject that came along. But not, apparently, when it came to the Calendar sisters!

He took a sip of his wine, giving March the time she needed to get past whatever the problem was, at the same time aware of the effort it took her to release the sudden tension she had been under. But why? So she painted in her spare time—what was the big deal?