The House in the Clouds - Victoria Connelly Page 0,4

wise,’ Stephen said. ‘There was a rumour going round that she was interested in Winfield Hall.’

‘Yes, but she wasn’t quite as interested as I was,’ Edward said, allowing himself a little moment of pride.

‘You did well,’ his friend told him. ‘Congratulations.’

‘Now, I think I’ve got some business to settle,’ Edward said. ‘Then fancy some lunch to celebrate?’

‘Absolutely!’ Stephen said. ‘You can tell me your plans for that great monster of a house.’

Edward smiled. It had been a stressful morning and he was glad that the whole business of it was over. Still, at the same time, he couldn’t help thinking that now was when the real work began.

After leaving the auction house, Abigail hadn’t dared drive through the village again. She couldn’t bear to look at the house that wasn’t to be hers. As she hit the motorway back to her place in London, she tried desperately to be positive, but it was hard. She’d always been able to see the good side of things, but today seemed totally devoid of good sides. She thought of the neat, crisp man in the suit who had placed the winning bid and she sincerely hoped he’d be happy at Winfield Hall and that he’d bought it because he loved it and not because he was some property developer who was simply passing through. The house deserved more than that. It needed somebody in it who would not only nurture it, but cherish it too. That’s what had been missing for so many years now – an owner who saw its true beauty and who would love it for years to come.

When she got back to London, her small home seemed even smaller than ever. She loved it, she truly did. With its sweet balcony overlooking the Thames and a tiny yard that received more than its share of sunshine for a London property, she had a lot to be grateful for. But Abi couldn’t unsee Winfield Hall and she couldn’t set aside the dreams she’d had for the place – a vision of a new life for herself with large, lofty rooms where she could host artist retreats, a garden where she could really indulge her passion for growing cut flowers, and having walks from the doorstep taking in the magnificence of the South Downs. London had its own beauty, it was true, but Abi had tired of it. It had been very handy to live in the capital for the past few years. She’d needed to for her business. But she wanted to stretch and reach out to something more now. She felt she needed open space and an abundance of greenery and fresh air. She wanted to feel earth under her feet rather than pavement and to leave behind the acrid smell of the city and the human crush of it all. She needed a space to call her own.

She sighed. Where was that space if it wasn’t Winfield? She’d pinned so many of her hopes on it and she wasn’t sure she had the heart to start all over again. She’d been so sure about the place.

As she walked into her study, she opened her handbag and pulled out her sketchbook, flipping through the pages of drawings she’d made of Winfield, seeing the autumn colours once again even though she’d drawn in pencil, and feeling the cool breeze that had lifted her hair away from her face.

Slowly, she closed the sketchbook and, opening a desk drawer, placed it carefully inside. She had to try and forget about it. But, deep in her heart, she knew it would be difficult.

You couldn’t just switch off a dream, could you?

Chapter Three

If Edward had had his way, he would have moved into Winfield Hall the afternoon of the auction. Unfortunately, the world didn’t move as fast as he wished it would and there were endless contracts to sort out and sign.

It was mid-October by the time Edward picked up the keys. The colour of autumn had deepened in the woods, painting the trees in rich ochres and deep ambers, and the first frost had rimed the valley, making the grass verges sparkle. It felt good to be out of the city, he thought, as he drove through the winding lanes. He always missed the country when he wasn’t there. Well, the truth was, he didn’t really have time to miss it when he was working in London. His head might not have time, but his heart still missed this place. It was like