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‘But you’re doing so much,’ Amy whispered in bewilderment. ‘Toomuch... I can’t accept all this.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because itistoo much. I’m only in need of a temporary solution while you’re talking about more long-term stuff. You don’t need to make that size of a commitment because you don’t owe me anything.’
‘Ido,’ Sev said, catching her restless hands in both of his to stop her moving, and staring down at her with his stunning black-fringed golden eyes. ‘This is my way of sayingtrulysorry.’
Disturbed by his proximity and the faintly familiar scent of his cologne assailing her nostrils, Amy jerked her hands free of his immediately. ‘Yes, it’s a great solution for the animals but I can’t agree to come and live here in your house.’
‘Even though you would be doing me a favour by agreeing?’
‘And how do you make that out?’ she demanded as Sev urged her up shallow steps into the cosy interior of a big wood-panelled hall crammed with furniture, books and assorted ornaments and pictures. The effect was more like an overflowing antique shop than an actual home.
‘I’ll show you round,’ Sev told her, throwing open doors as he passed, waiting for her to glance in at a drawing room, a library, a further seemingly endless selection of dining, morning and sitting rooms. ‘I’ve got a housekeeper hiring people to do all the practical stuff like cooking and cleaning and getting bedrooms ready for the guests, but I need someone to declutter the place and make it look more inviting and I’ve only got two weeks left to achieve that. I think you could give the hall that Christmas gloss that people enjoy at this time of year. That’s one reason why I’m asking you to move in now. I believe you could pull this place into better order.’
Amy dragged her fascinated gaze from what looked like a very gloomy Victorian mourning memorial on a marble hearth and swallowed hard. ‘Why did you leave all the arrangements to the last minute?’
Sev knew better than to admit that he had originally planned to entertain his father’s family at his London town house. The sudden change of venue was merely a ploy for her benefit to persuade her that he needed something from her as well. ‘I’ve had a lot on my mind recently.’ It wasn’t a lie. He was discovering that the concept of lying to Amy, even to keep her happy, was a double-edged sword that made him as uneasy as if an innocent fib might lead to him being struck by a divine bolt of retribution.
‘We need to talk about this...properlytalk about this,’ Amy told him anxiously as he escorted her up one half of a giant double staircase that would not have looked out of place in a small palace.
‘I don’t see what’s left to talk about,’ Sev responded lightly.
‘Only money. You’re not expecting me to pay you rent, are you?’ Amy shot at him ruefully, her cheeks hot.
‘Of course, I’m not. Leave money out of this,’ he urged impatiently.
‘I’m afraid I can’t. Who is going to pay for the feed for the animals and the bedding and the medication if I’m not even working?’ Amy pressed, getting down to the nitty-gritty details he would have avoided.
‘Me. Charitable venture?’ Sev sent her an amused smile. ‘Perfect tax write-off.’
Amy grasped that point and recognised why he would seek to have the charity kept alive and based at the house. She was relieved by that reason because it removed some of the guilt that was dogging her. ‘But you can’t write off the cost of my living expenses.’
‘It’s my baby. It’s my right to look after my baby’s mother,’ Sev insisted, pushing open a door into a big bedroom.
‘The obligation to look after your baby’s mother doesn’t feature in any law I’ve ever heard of unless you’re married to the lady,’ Amy told him gently. ‘Look, I understand what you’re trying to do here for me, but I don’t feel comfortable with your generosity...even though I’m going toacceptit for the dogs’ sake.’
‘I’m not expecting anything from you other than your help with making the house presentable for Christmas. I can have you moved in here within forty-eight hours,’ Sev continued. ‘I’ll organise transport for the animals and your possessions.’
‘As far as possessions go, I have a suitcase and that’s pretty much it. My boss loaned me the furniture in my room and the mini oven,’ she completed prosaically. ‘I’m used to travelling light.’
It pained Sev that all she owned would fit in a single case and that she thought nothing of that fact. He compressed his lips and made no comment, watching her investigate the extra doors that led off the bedroom to discover a contemporary bathroom and dressing room, where she poked through built-in wardrobes and drawers, her frown warning him that she was thinking that the contents of one suitcase were unlikely to have much presence there.
Amy walked back out to face him, looking uneasy. ‘All right, I’ll move in as long as you understand that it’s only a temporary thing,’ she proffered stiffly.
Sev nodded as if he agreed when he didn’t agree, wondering in exasperation why she was the first woman in his life for whom he had had to embroider the truth. The bottom line was getting her moved in and comfortable.
Amy froze as the black SUV that had collected her turned in through giant wrought-iron gates set between tall turrets that punctuated the long stone estate wall she had not noticed on her first visit to Oaktree Hall. Of course, Sev had brought her in through a far less intimidating rear entrance, sparing her the imposing front view of the house at the end of a long dead-straight drive bounded by the big oak trees that had given the building its name. Amy almost pinched herself to see if she was dreaming that she was to move into a house that size. From the starting point of a converted storage room, it was a massive move upmarket for an ordinary young woman.
Only Amy didn’t feel quite so ordinary when she was greeted at the front door by the housekeeper, who introduced herself as Martha and announced that she would bring coffee and toasted pancakes to the drawing room to welcome her to her new home.
It’s not my new home, she wanted to protest, but it would have been churlish to contradict the smiling older woman, who was, after all, only an employee and probably had not a clue about Amy’s true status in Sev’s life. When Sev finally wore out his belated attack of conscience, he would surely be glad to see her cut ties and leave, Amy reckoned as she settled down on a faded but well-sprung sofa and awaited her coffee. A log fire was burning merrily in the grate, throwing out brightness and warmth into the big room. Amy stood up again, already mindful of Sev’s request that she do something to make the old property look more inviting for his guests. She wandered round the room, mentally labelling what could go and what could stay in terms of furniture and what seemed to be an endless supply of knick-knacks littering every beautifully polished surface.
Martha arrived with a tray and Amy sat down again, listening as the older woman told her that her mother and her grandmother had worked at the hall before her and that she remembered the house when it was still occupied by some elderly aunt of Sev’s a decade earlier.
‘Maybe you could advise me on what to move out,’ Amy remarked.
‘I wouldn’t know what to choose, Miss Taylor. The old lady liked the place packed because that was what she was used to here. But Mr Cantarelli has sticky labels for you to put on the pieces you want shifted. We’ve got handymen for the house, who will do the heavy work,’ she explained. ‘I will pack up the breakables for you and put them in the attic.’
