Page 40 of A Colourful Country Escape
‘At first, I thought he was quite annoying. And he can definitely be standoffish.’
‘Are you trying put me off?’ asked Grace.
‘No, of course not! I hope he finds his sparkling match.’ Well, maybe. ‘So, yeah … ’ She thought back over the last month they’d spent together. It was strange, now she tried to piece it together. He irritated her and they were nothing alike, and yet … what was it? There was just something. Like a funny little pull. A compulsion to be near him, even though he prickled her skin.
‘Lexie?’ Grace was waiting for an answer. How long had she been thinking?
‘Right, sorry. Er … ’ Lexie stopped spinning for a moment, feeling dizzy enough. She was conscious of Mrs Moon, almost perching on the edge of the seat she was resting on. Why would she want to hear? Mrs Moon knew Ben’s mysterious personality better than Lexie did. ‘He’s … actually quite amusing. And chivalrous.’ She thought back to him trying to yank her out of a puddle. ‘And interesting, when he bothers to say stuff. Plus his staff all seem to like him, although I’m not always sure why.’
Mrs Moon nodded.
‘And there’s even the slight possibility that he might be charming, although I’ve not seen it with my own eyes. You could work on it,’ said Lexie.
The pair chuckled and linked arms again, continuing their spin around the room. As Lexie and Grace chatted about the surreal kind of day it had been, one of the double doors creaked open and a draught swept through the room. All heads turned in its direction to see Ben filling the archway, his crisp black suit immaculate as though he was going to a ball himself.
Grace gave a low whistle. Lexie couldn’t blame her.
Ben was considering the once-dancing women with a look that was surprisingly intense. Lexie wasn’t sure she’d seen it before, or certainly not that strong. It must have been aimed at her dance partner, who was an absolute vision in shades of peach and tangerine, full taffeta skirt bustling as though destined to tango. Lexie imagined the two of them together, so finely turned out and smelling intoxicatingly expensive. They would be like something from a formidable dream, all luscious locks and well-groomed skin. And Lexie was right here, giving them a helping hand. Maybe Mrs Carrington-Noble would even thank her.
Wow. She should bring this dazzling pair together and bow out of the dance.
She gulped down the prickly thing that was rising in her throat and offered Grace’s hand to Ben.
Chapter 21
‘You fancied her.’
‘I did not!’
Lexie and Ben were walking along Tewkesbury High Street the Friday after theFind Ben a Wifeinterviews, arguing like a pair of schoolchildren. Lexie had explored the market town several times, but this was the first time she’d been here with Ben. She was surprised he’d agreed to leave his office so early.
‘Yes, you did. You got all shy when I tried to give her hand to you. You wouldn’t even dance.’
‘I’m not very good at dancing.’
‘You chose the music!’
‘I thought everyone would have left by then.’ He pulled his collar loose as they trekked past the crooked timber-framed buildings.
‘So who were you expecting to dance with? Mrs Moon?’
‘Nobody! I was just … checking everything was still working. It’s been a long time.’
Lexie tried not to raise her eyebrows.
It was a sunny May afternoon, and Lexie had managed to talk Ben into having their weekly planning meeting early. Her sneaky end goal was to bag herself an invite to the paint conference in London. If Ben was swanning off, she didn’t want to be stuck at Nutgrass Hall, waiting for Mrs Carrington-Noble to show up and order her to sweep ballrooms and serve Earl Grey, or whatever nonsense. Surely he owed her one after that fiasco?
Anyway, Lexie had promised her followers she’d blog about this conference. She couldn’t let them down.
So Lexie had told Ben it was criminal to stay cramped up in his wood-panelled office when the weather was so nice. He’d reluctantly agreed to a business lunch by the river, probably to avoid Lexie plying him with spicy Thai takeaway later on.
The high street was surprisingly busy and they weaved in and out of meandering shoppers. Medieval flags flapped above their heads, happy streaks of colour against the black-and-white Tudor constructions.
‘Ooh!’ Lexie just managed to stop herself tripping over a display of old furniture that was arranged outside a shop front.
‘Load of old junk.’ Ben tutted. ‘Look, even the neighbours think so.’ He pointed to the people from the shop next door, who seemed to be emptying their wares and moving out.
‘No! Not at all.’ Lexie pulled him back to look. ‘That’s what I love about this place. So many vintage shops and once-loved items. It’s full of such promise.’ She always did get enthusiastic at the thought of a bargain.
