Another Eden

190 Pages·2016·0.85 MB·English

by  West Nicola

ANOTHER EDEN

Nicola West
Was her world about to change?

Holly's fiance, Morris, was the sweetest, most generous man on earth,
she thought. An older, successful entrepreneur, he adored his
refreshing bride-to-be, and even intended to give her the house of her
dreams as a wedding gift. She couldn't believe her luck.

So why did the picture of another man, one Holly barely knew, come
unbidden into her mind? A tall, lean man with disturbingly blue eyes
and a deep melodious voice? What did he have to do with her?

Except for the fact that he, too, wanted her dream house....
CHAPTER ONE
'THERE you are. That's it. Sleadale Head. Your future home.'
'Our future home,' Holly Douglas said softly, gazing along the track
that wound deep into the valley ahead of them. 'Morris—it's beautiful!'
Morris Crawley smiled complacently. 'Glad you like it, darling. I just
hope you won't find it too lonely, that's all. Three miles from the road,
and the last two along a very rough track—that's a long way from
civilisation.'
Holly's grey eyes laughed at him. 'Not to me—don't forget I'm a
farmer's daughter, brought up in the wilds of Herefordshire. And my
grandparents' farm in Wales was just as remote as this. No -' she turned
away from him, gazing again along the silent valley, her ebony hair
feathered by the breeze '—I'm going to love it. And so are you.'
Impulsively, she turned and kissed him. 'After a few weeks here, you'll
wonder how you ever managed to live in London.'
'Well, I've always intended to come into farming.' Morris shrugged
more deeply into the sheepskin jacket that covered his suit. 'And when
one of the best sheep- farms in the Lake District comes under the
hammer—well, you don't pass up an opportunity like that. Especially
when you're looking for a place to settle down and raise a family!'
Holly moved close into the circle of his arms. 'Morris, you're the
sweetest man I know. I still can't believe my luck! I mean—why me?
Why should a man like you—a successful businessman, travelling all
over the world, meeting glamorous women everywhere you go—pick
on an ordinary girl like me? It doesn't make sense.'
'It makes every kind of sense,' Morris told her, drawing her close and
dropping a kiss on the top of her windblown head. 'All right, so I meet
a lot of glamorous women—but none of them can hold a candle to you
for freshness and simplicity. And I mean that in the nicest possible
way! There's nothing ordinary about you, Holly—you're like a breath
of fresh air to me. Something that's been missing from my life for
years.'
'Well, you'll get plenty of it here!' Holly laughed as a gust of wind blew
the unlatched gate wide open. 'Three miles between us and the road,
and a whole valley all to ourselves. Where is the nearest house?'
'In the next valley.' Morris unfolded a map and laid it on the bonnet of
the car. 'Hold that end down . . . yes, there it is. Brackenfold. About
half a mile away as the crow flies, but a good deal longer in road
terms—six miles, at least.'
'You could walk it in about an hour, though, crossing the ridge,' Holly
observed. 'And it looks as if there are several buildings there—quite a
little hamlet. I wonder if they're all occupied.'
'Probably holiday cottages. That's what seems to happen to mc>st of
these outlying places nowadays.' Morris began to fold up the map
again. 'Well, let's go on along this murderous track and see what lies at
the other end. They say the house has been modernised, but that could
mean anything.'
'Yes . . .' Holly climbed into the Range Rover beside him, her small,
triangular face sober. 'Morris , you don't think we're taking all this
rather for granted? It isn't ours yet, after all—suppose there are other
people after it? I'd hate to get all excited about it and then lose it.'
'Don't worry.' Her fiance's hand patted her knee comfortingly. 'There
won't be anyone else after it—apart from one or two locals, possibly.
And I can match any price they can afford.'
'Mm.' Holly bit her lip, staring anxiously out through the windscreen. 'I
suppose so. All the same, I shan't feel really happy until the auction's
over. And—well, you'll think I'm being silly, I know, but -'
'But what?'
'I can't help feeling a bit sorry for any locals who do want to buy it, I
know how Dad would have felt, back in Herefordshire, if he'd wanted
to buy some more land and some tycoon had stepped in from London
with more money than he could afford.' She gave the man beside her
an apologetic glance. 'I told you you'd think I was being silly.'
Morris smiled fondly. 'Not silly at all. Just my darling Holly being her
sweet self, that's all. Thinking of everyone else first. It's one of the
things I love about you, my pet—but all the same, I'm afraid it's
something you're going to have to learn to control. Because,
unfortunately, it just isn't the way to get on!'
He turned away, concentrating on the track ahead of them. As he'd
said, it was extremely rough, degenerating rapidly into little more than
a stony mass of rocks and potholes. Holly clung to the door of the car,
understanding now why her fiancé had refused to bring his sleek
Jaguar along here, insisting on using the Range Rover he'd bought
since coming to the Lake District. No normal car would be able to
withstand this punishment day after day.
But the beauty of the valley, with the farm standing isolated and alone
at its head, more than compensated for the difficulty of reaching it. As
they jolted slowly along, pausing occasionally to allow Holly to jump
out and open a gate, the serenity of the calm hills rising on either
sideseemed to absorb itself into her heart and mind, stilling any doubts
she might have had about this new life into which she was rushing so
headlong. The tinkling chatter of the stream that accompanied them
for most of the way, growing wilder as they climbed, the tender clarity
of the blue October sky, the occasional querulous bleat from one of the
sheep who raised their heads to watch the strangers approach—all
these added to the peace of the atmosphere. This, she thought, leaning
for a moment on the last of the gates and gazing at the curve of the
hillside that must, surely, soon reveal the house itself, was her kind of
country. Wild, remote, isolated—but close to all the things she loved,
the life in which she knew she could blossom.
A brief peep of the horn brought her to herself, and she climbed back
beside Morris, laughing.
'Sorry! I was just overwhelmed by it all. It's so lovely, Morris—I can't
think of anywhere I'd rather settle down.'
'Well, you may feel differently when the rain's lashing down and
there's a high wind, and you're driving back alone and have to keep
getting out to open and close all these gates. Or when the snow's three
feet deep round the house and the only way out is on skis.' Morris
manoeuvred the Range Rover around a particular large rock. 'Or when
you've cracked your sump on one of these boulders and can't go
forward or back and the car's full of shopping and -'
'Screaming kids,' Holly finished with a grin. 'Yes, I know, you're
right—all those things could rather take the shine off! But not for me,
Morris. I'll love it even in those conditions. Because the house will
always be there at the end, waiting. And not just a house. Our home.
That's what will make it special.'
Morris didn't answer. They had rounded the last bend in the track and
at last the house was in view, a square, solid, grey building that looked
as if it had grown from the valley, thrust into shape by the relentless
action of wind and weather. A boulder of a house that had taken
everything that the elements could hurl at it and had withstood it all,
reaching this final perfect shape, never again to change.
A house you could rely on, Holly thought, her heart going out to it. An
uncompromising house; but a safe one.
Morris drove along the last, roughly cobbled stretch of track and
brought the vehicle to a halt in the yard, between the house itself and a
large barn.
'Well, there it is. Not exactly a thing of beauty, but -'
'Oh, but it is!' Holly was still gazing at the grey stone walls of the
house, the deep, sturdy porch that sheltered the door. 'Not in the
modern sense, perhaps—it doesn't have clean white walls or huge
plate-glass picture windows. But for what it is—where it is—it's
perfect. So square and solid—so determined. It is beautiful, Morris.
Can't you see it?'
He smiled. 'Or course, if you can. And it's certainly solid. I don't
imagine we'll find much wrong with it—as I said, the previous owners
have done quite a lot to it, though I don't know what—it may be that
we think their alterations and "improvements" would have been better
not done! Anyway—let's have a look. I've got the key.'
With each step they took around the old house, Holly felt more and
more at home. She wanted to stroke the thick walls, lay her hands on
the broad windowsills, embrace the great beams that spanned the
ceilings. When they had finished their tour and were standing once
more in the big living-room, she spread her arms wide and gave Morris
a happy grin.
'It's wonderful! Everything is so exactly right. They must have been
very clever, whoever lived here before.' Arms still outstretched, she
indicated the spaciousness of the room they were in. 'Look at this!
Obviously it was two smaller rooms originally and they've knocked it
into one—but it's been done so sensitively, with this end raised up just
a little to separate it from the other part and make a cosy sitting area.
And that lovely woodstove at the far end, with the open fire at this—it
must be beautifully snug In winter, when your snowstorms are raging
round outside or all that wind and rain are lashing the walls.' She
twinkled mischieviously at the man who watched her. 'And the
kitchen's gorgeous, with those open beams and Jill that wood, and that
superb Aga ... I just wish we could move in straight away!'
'Well, you'll have to wait a little while, I'm afraid. There's just a small
matter of an auction, and a wedding.' Morris kissed her lightly.
'Anyway, I'm glad you like it. Now ... I want to take a look at the
outbuildings and the generator—there's no mains electricity laid on
and I want to make sure it's in good working order. Coming with me?'
Holly shook her head. 'I'll go over the house again. I just can't believe
it's all going to be ours—our own home. Oh, I hope no one outbids us
at the auction! I couldn't bear to lose it now I've seen it.'
Left alone, she began to prowl around the rooms like a cat assessing its
new territory. She rather hoped that Morris wouldn't come back too
soon—without him, she felt able to savour the delight of knowing that
it was going to be hers, planning the furniture she would need, the few
small changes she would make. She paused at each window, gazing
out at the sloping fellsides, burnished with the autumn russet of dying
bracken, watching the glittering stream as it leaped down the hill
beside the track, delighting in the glowing red of rowan berries against
the clear blue sky.
She was upstairs in the bathroom when she heard the sound of
someone coming in at the back door, and ran to the top of the curving
stone staircase.
'Morris? Come and have another look at this enormous bath! It'll take
us both, I'm sure, and -' She stopped abruptly. 'Oh!'
The tall man at the foot of the stairs said nothing. He stood quite still,
his eyes glinting up at her, a deep and startling blue in the rich tan of
his face. Hair as dark as her own sprang in tousled disorder from his
well shaped head, and his fingers, resting on the wall beside him, were
long and slender without being over-delicate—hands, Holly thought in
the daze of that first moment of shock, that would be strong as well as
sensitive, as powerful as they could be passionate . . .
Hastily, Holly jerked her mind away from the thoughts that had so
incredibly forced their way into her mind. She swallowed, bit her lip
and finally found her voice.
'I'm sorry—I didn't know there was anyone else here—I didn't hear
your car ... Is there anything I can do for you?'
There was a flicker in the man's eyes at that, but his voice gave nothing
away. He spoke coolly, calmly, as if there were nothing at all unusual
in finding a strange girl in an empty house, burbling away about the
bathroom . . . Holly's cheeks flamed as she remembered the words
she'd been calling out as he'd come in. What on earth must he be
thinking of her?
'I can't think of anything just at the moment, but I'll let you know if I
do.' Was he making fun of her? Well, perhaps she deserved it. She
grinned weakly at him and wondered where Morris had got to.
And—more immediately important—who this man was and what he
wanted.
A sudden fear came to her. Perhaps he had come for the same purpose
as she and Morris—to look over the house. Perhaps he, too, was a
prospective buyer. As soon as the thought carne into her mind, she
knew it must be true. When she spoke again, there was an edge of
hostility in her voice and she took a step down towards him.