Claire was up as dawn broke, full of nervous energy. Emily and Jake were practical, and they wanted to help. They would’ve considered the proposal she’d made last night, that she and Daniel shared Gardener’s Cottage, and they’d probably say no. It hadn’t been a terribly brilliant suggestion, Claire knew that, so she’d had another idea and was eager to communicate it before Daniel appeared for his breakfast.

That wasn’t the only reason she was up early, though. She wanted to have a quick look round the gardens and grounds—or as much as she could manage before breakfast—to get an idea of the size and magnitude of the task ahead of her. After a rapid tour of the immediate area round the hotel and a look at the walled garden, she headed up to the hotel, where she found Emily already up and sipping from a cup of some odd-looking brew, sitting in a corner of the immaculate dining-room.

Leaning over, Claire sniffed. ‘Ginger?’

‘Ginger.’ Emily nodded. ‘Does wonders for the morning sickness. Your mum told me. A cup of ginger tea and a ginger biscuit.’

Claire helped herself to a cafetière of coffee from the breakfast bar and snagged a few slices of toast before re-joining Emily. ‘I’ve just had a look round the grounds and been to the walled garden this morning. Did you know there are still traces of the old beds in some places, and in the walled garden, there’s some good terracotta edging hidden under the weeds?’ She waved her hand in the general direction of the grounds. ‘A hand rotovator would help to re-establish the kitchen garden, then I can probably grow a few things before the summer’s over. And there are three greenhouses, but they’re in a terrible state of repair. To be honest, it might be best if we cleared them and started afresh, but obviously I want to run these things past you and Jake first. Also, there are still the stone steps leading down to various levels in the main gardens. From what I remember of the plans we looked at during my interview, there were different gardens all leading into each other. It’ll certainly take some time—years—to fully restore everything. For now, though, I’d like to concentrate on the rose garden just below the terrace, the beds at the front of the house, and the kitchen garden.’ Claire grinned, eyes shining, her enthusiasm contagious. This whole thing was going to be so amazing.

Emily took a sip of her ginger tea, smiling. ‘I’ve already noticed in just a week you’re making a real difference, so thanks.’

Claire felt pleased. As soon as the summer holiday had begun, she’d started weeding the flower beds and cutting the lawn edges in the immediate vicinity of the house. While the complete restoration would take years, there was also plenty of ongoing work to be done.

‘And yes,’ Emily said, ‘I’d love it if we could get the walled garden up and running. We could grow some vegetables, maybe even some fruit in the greenhouse. You’re going to need help, though, surely? You can’t do all the gardens alone. Obviously, you’ll be in charge, but you’ll have to employ someone. Can you organise an advert and an interview? It has to be someone you’re happy with, so no point me doing it.’

‘Yes, I can do that, but…’ Claire paused.

‘But what?’

‘Can I leave it for now? Let me get settled in and get a feel for the place? I can manage everything pretty well for now, if we have the contractors back in to keep on top of the mowing, and the trimming and pruning work. Maybe I’ll start looking for someone in the summer, because there’s always a lot to do in autumn, and we can start on some of the restoration work over winter. Is that okay?’

‘Yes, I’m good with that, but as soon as you think a second gardener would be viable, go for it. I always intended there would be two of you. Anyway, you sound to be well in control.’ Emily smiled and then her face lit up as Jake wandered over to their table.

They kissed. It was wonderful to see Jake so happy, and so much in love. It gave Claire hope for her own future. Her thoughts drifted to Daniel Morgan, an exhausted and sad man. From the moment she’d seen him standing in the dining-room, she’d been lost. Whether he felt anything in return was impossible to tell. He’d been in no state to show any emotion but distress. His manner had been a little terse and withdrawn, but he’d allowed her a glimpse beyond that, to the lonely person underneath.

‘Morning, big sister.’ Pulling out a chair, Jake sat down and helped himself to the coffee. ‘Emily and I discussed your suggestion that this guy could share your cottage, but the answer is no. Okay, so he says he was sent here by some distant cousin of Henry’s, and you reckon he’s a well-known seascape artist, but we don’t know what sort of man he is, and we honestly think it would be unwise for you to open up your home to an unknown quantity. It would be very awkward if you found you didn’t get on.’ He and Emily shared a look, and Emily gave a small nod.

Rolling her eyes, Claire took a slice of toast and buttered it. ‘Honestly, Jake. I’m thirty. If I advertised for a flat share, I wouldn’t know anything about the person who took the room, and I’d have the same problems. What’s so different?’

Rubbing a hand over his stubbled chin, Jake looked serious. ‘There’s no need. He can have a room in the hostel. There’s always an empty one.’

‘Where would he paint? He said he needed some paintings to hand over to his agent but he couldn’t access his studio.’

‘Which brings us back to one reason Emily and I aren’t keen on your idea. Why can’t he access his house? His own house? We know so little about him, except what he tells us.’

Claire shrugged, her mouth turning down at the corners. ‘I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. But you could see he was at his wits’ end and completely exhausted. I thought he might end up in tears at one point, to be honest. He needs the space to paint. The cottage is roomy enough, if he had the bigger bedroom. And the living room is—’

‘No. And if we went the holiday cottage route, he’d have to spend some time in the hostel anyway because we don’t have a long enough vacancy in any of them, so he’d have to move out of one, then into a different one throughout the holiday season. He can have a room in the hostel, or he can go elsewhere.’

Claire fell silent. Jake seemed prepared to display his down-to-earth business sense more openly these days, and she hadn’t adjusted to this new version of her laid-back brother yet. She breathed in deeply through her nose, lips compressed.

Leaning forwards, Emily laid a sympathetic hand on her clenched fist. ‘I think—we both think—you were really kind to offer. And we’re not turning him away. He’s welcome to stay for as long as he wants in the hostel, and we’ll give him preferential rates too.’ With a wink and a grin, Emily sat back.

Claire repeated what she’d said before. ‘He won’t have enough room. Bad enough when I paint, but he’s a master.’ For a few moments they were all silent, then Claire launched the alternative idea she’d come up with early that morning. ‘How about I move into the hostel for the summer, and he has the cottage?’

Just as Emily and Jake were exchanging more looks, Claire glanced up. Her heart started a slow, measured pounding. Daniel Morgan stood hesitantly in the doorway, scanning the scattering of people having breakfast. If she’d had any doubts she’d over-exaggerated his impact on her last night, her reaction now dissipated them like morning mist when the sun came out. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He spotted them and crossed the room, allowing her to admire his easy stride. Hell, but this man had her in the palm of his hand, and it wasn’t just because he was a painter. It wouldn’t have mattered what his job was, truth be told. But… why? Was it because she sensed how unhappy he was? Was he just one of her lame ducks? She didn’t think so. There was something more here, and she’d have to see what happened over the summer. Her stomach flipped as she looked him up and down. This was one very sexy man.

As he reached their table, he gave a brief smile that failed to reach his eyes and a nod of his head, then he sat on the edge of the empty chair, his long-fingered hands resting on his thighs.

‘Morning, Mr Morgan.’ Emily gave him a professional smile. ‘Do help yourself to breakfast.’ She indicated the table where guests could help themselves to cereals and toast. ‘If you want a cooked breakfast, I can recommend the full English.’

‘I won’t have breakfast, thank you.’ His voice was the same flat, tired one Claire had heard last night, and her heart sank. The moments when he’d opened up and shown her a glimpse of his inner self, and welcomed her sympathy, weren’t apparent today.

‘No?’ Jake gave his amiable smile. ‘Coffee, though? No-one refuses coffee.’

‘They do if they prefer tea,’ Claire interjected, smiling brightly as she glanced from Jake to Daniel.

Daniel looked at her, one eyebrow raised, before turning to Jake. ‘Thanks, but no. I’m going to pay my bill and head off. I’ll look for accommodation elsewhere. I realise Sebastian was mistaken, but then he didn’t know about the hotel. And I don’t think you’ve got any spare cottages, from what you said last night? Or at least, nothing long-term? I need something until the end of July. I’ll definitely be leaving then because I have to go to America.’

Jake and Emily exchanged another look before Emily turned to Claire. ‘What you just said—do you really mean it?’

‘Not as if I’ve settled in yet,’ she said, shrugging. ‘My things are still in storage and can stay there because I had to take out a three-month block, anyway. I could stay at the hostel, or even with mum, come to that. No skin off my nose, and it solves Da—Mr Morgan’s problem.’

A knot gathered between Daniel’s brows. ‘What?’ he asked abruptly. ‘What does she mean?’

Claire is offering you the cottage you mentioned last night, the one by the sea.’ Jake took a final swig from his cup and stood, dropping a kiss on the top of Emily’s head. ‘Gotta go, darlin’. The café’s waiting.’

‘I can’t accept it.’ Daniel stood as well, pushing his chair back.

Claire laid her hand on his arm. He tensed as if he might shake it off, but he didn’t. He stared down at it for a long moment before lifting his head and looking at her.

There was only him and her. Everything, everyone, faded away. Claire trembled and felt light-headed as they exchanged a long glance. She wasn’t imagining it. He felt something, too, she was sure.

‘Think about it,’ Claire said. ‘This is a cottage I’ve slept in for less than a week. It has sea views. It’s got plenty of room for canvasses and paints, and you’re on the cliff path, so access to various points you might be interested in is literally on your doorstep.’

‘You seem to know what I need?’

‘I never mentioned it last night, but I paint myself. Landscapes and seascapes, but not at your level of ability. It’s a hobby, mostly, and sometimes I sell a few in one of the local tourist shops.’ Claire gave a deprecating half smile. ‘It won’t hurt me to use a room at the hostel or head back to Mum’s for a few weeks. Doesn’t matter which option I choose. I was going to grab Jake this coming weekend and get him to move some of my stuff in, but all that’s in the cottage at the moment are a few personal bits and bobs and some basic foods like bread, coffee, and some milk.’ She dropped her hand, flushing as she realised how long it had been on his arm.

Slowly sitting back down, he rubbed a hand across his chin and looked at her with dazed suspicion. ‘Why would you do this? I’m a complete stranger to you.’

She shrugged. She wasn’t sure what to say for a few seconds before deciding on some of the truth. Not all, for how could she describe her feelings, which to him would seem nothing short of ridiculous? They even seemed ridiculous to her at the moment. She needed more time to come to terms with this sudden upheaval to her ordered existence.

‘I think you’ve had a nasty experience, and it’s something to do with your house and why you can’t go back there for the time being. You need some space to work. I’m being honest when I say I’ve hardly moved in. Your need seems greater than mine. It’s that simple.’

‘Nothing’s ever that simple,’ he muttered. ‘There’s always an agenda.’

‘Not as far as I’m concerned.’

For a long moment he stared at her, and she met his intense gaze unflinchingly despite feeling as if a swarm of butterflies had found a new home inside her body.

‘There’s always an agenda,’ he repeated, shaking his head, his gaze dropping as he fiddled with the unused place settings in front of him.

‘Okay, maybe there is,’ Claire admitted, a gleam in her eye. ‘You could offer a critique of one of my paintings?’

His head shot up, his face blank. But then his expression lifted, and his mouth twitched. It completely changed his face. Just as well she wasn’t standing. Her legs felt like water.

But then, like the sun going behind a cloud—and a pretty stormy one at that—the faint smile disappeared.

Emily had sat, a quiet observer of all this. Now she stood up and smiled warmly at them both. ‘Let me know what you decide, won’t you? I think Claire truly doesn’t mind, Mr Morgan. You look as if you’ve found your summer accommodation, so my advice is to accept her offer before she changes her mind. There won’t be anywhere offering a long vacancy on the coast at this time of year. Okay, I’m going to get on. Probably see you later, Claire?’

She left them, and they continued to sit in silence. Claire was patient and decided there was no reason to fill it with inane repetitions, and she assumed Daniel Morgan was weighing the pros and cons of her offer and maybe his alternatives. Anyway, it gave her time to think about him.

Somehow, finding “the one” had never been high on her agenda. For years, teaching had filled her life, and she’d had a couple of good relationships, but no-one had steam-rollered her like this man did. If he stayed here over the summer, they had a chance of building something together. Maybe they could paint together… if she dared let him see her work, that was. They could go for some walks because she knew the whole coastline, north and south, for several miles. She’d really like that. But… if they did, what then? He’d want to return to his home at some point and then was going to America, while she… well, she was new to this job and wanted to prove herself, as well as create something both beautiful and useful. She wanted to stay here.

One thing she’d love to know, though—what on earth had driven him out of his house and made him so distressed?

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