“We do too.” Nan muses, “I do think when we leave we ought to go out with a bang, don’t you think? A party on the lawn? A band? A wonderful supper?”
“Oh God.” Keith shivers with delight. “Even the word ‘supper’ makes me think of Cary Grant and Grace Kelly. This is the perfect house for a party like that . . . we could do white tie, or a black and white ball like Truman Capote! Oh Nan! Oh Stephen! Think of the parties we could throw!”
Nan laughs delightedly and turns her head slightly to whisper to Daniel, “Thank you for bringing them here. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather see living here.”
“Do you mean that?” Daniel whispers back as he looks across the room and catches Matt’s eye.
“I do,” she says. “I love Stephen’s portfolio. I love that he brought it along, to show me that he really does want to restore Windermere. And Keith is a gas! I think they’re the perfect people to inject new life into the old girl.”
“They’re so much better than that Mark Stephenson,” Nan says to Michael and Daff when they are back downstairs and Daniel and Matt are walking Stephen and Keith around the garden. “What a dreadful man he was.”
“You did know, then?” Daff is amazed. “I was worried you were taken in by him.”
“Not for a second. I knew he’d tear down this house immediately, and frankly I expected it. I mind that far less than him lying about it, trying to tell me that he wanted to raise his family here because he thought I’d sell it to him for less.”
“Have you told him you won’t sell it to him?” Michael is worried.
“No, darling, of course not. I wanted Stephen and Keith to see the house properly first, and let’s just wait for them to make an offer. I must say I’m still keen to do a private deal—those realtor fees are extortionate—sorry, Daff.”
Daff shrugs and looks away, catching Michael’s eye as she does so, the pair of them exchanging a small smile.
“We love it,” Keith says, his eyes filling up as he wipes a tear away. “I think we’d be incredibly happy here, and Stephen already has wonderful ideas for restoring her.”
Nan smiles. “How funny, I have always thought of Windermere as a her, too. The grand old lady on the bluff.”
“Rather like you,” Keith says, “if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“Not at all. Far better grand than mad,” she says with a wink.
“I love her!” Keith mouths silently to Matt, who mouths back, “Told you!”
“Perhaps you and I could go somewhere quiet and talk business? ” Stephen says softly.
“Of course.” Nan stands up and allows herself to be escorted out of the room. “Let’s go into the study.”
“Five million?” Michael looks confused. “But you wanted ten from Mark Stephenson. That sounds like far less than the house is worth.”
“But he wants less than half the land!” Nan says. “He wants the house, and three acres. Says the rest is too unmanageable for him. We could build another house, right here! It couldn’t be more perfect!”
“Wow!” Daff starts to smile as she turns to Michael. “That really does sound perfect.”
“We could even build two houses,” Nan says, her excitement barely contained. “One for me, and one for you two—well, three, including Jess.”
Daff blushes. “Us two? No . . . we’re . . .” She looks at Michael, embarrassed, for she would never dare think that far into the future, would never dare say something that would expose her that much, make her that vulnerable.
Michael takes her hand and grins at Nan. “What a splendid idea,” he says, and Daff feels stars of joy explode inside her.
“Now the question is,” Nan says, with a small devilish frown, “how do we tell Mr. Stephenson that the house is not his after all?”
“Oh let me!” Daff says. “Please let me! I’ll enjoy every second of it.”
Michael sits in the waiting room, flicking through a boating magazine as Daff goes into Mark Stephenson’s offIce, where the walls are so thin Michael can hear every word.
“I thought it only fair to come here in person,” Daff says quietly, “to inform you that Mrs. Powell has had an offer on the house that she has decided to accept.”
There is a silence, then an explosion. “What?”
Daff starts to repeat herself until Mark Stephenson interrupts.
“I heard you! What do you mean, she’s had another offer? What the