The Millionaire's Rebellious Mistress - By Catherine George Page 0,55
office door open for her, and Sarah walked out to the lift in stony silence.
To Sarah’s chagrin she was shown into the back seat of the Cherokee, and virtually ignored while Alex chatted to Greg in front. The only time he spoke directly to her was to ask directions to the farm when they left the Leominster road.
‘I’m sure you know exactly where it is,’ she said tartly, though by this time tendrils of doubt were beginning to creep up on her.
‘It’s years since I’ve been out this way, so I don’t remember precisely,’ he said, and told Greg to consult the map. ‘Since Miss Carver is uncooperative, we’ll blunder on the best we can.’
When they’d passed the turning down to Westhope and driven a mile further on Sarah gave up.
‘Go back and take the next left,’ she snapped. ‘As you well know.’
Greg, she saw with satisfaction, looked hideously uncomfortable, which scotched any doubts she’d been feeling. He was very obviously not looking forward to an encounter with Bob Grover.
When they finally drove past the trio of barns to arrive at the farm, Alex surprised Sarah by staying in the car.
‘Greg will go to the door with you,’ he said.
‘What am I supposed to ask, Alex?’ asked his unhappy assistant.
‘Just to see Mr Grover. I’m sure Miss Carver will take it from there.’
Greg opened the Jeep door to a chorus of barking, and helped Sarah down. He took out a handkerchief to wipe his glasses and then settled them firmly on his nose, plainly relieved when the stocky figure of Bob Grover appeared, to quiet the dogs.
‘Hello there, Sarah,’ said Bob, smiling, and looked enquiringly at Greg.
‘Good morning. You remember Greg Harris, Mr Grover?’ she said. ‘Harry told me you’ve met before. When Mr Harris made you an offer.’
Bob looked at the young man blankly, and shook his head. ‘No. This isn’t the chap, Sarah.’
‘There’s obviously been some mistake, Miss Carver,’ said Greg stiffly, and turned in relief as Alex came to join them, smiling warmly at the farmer.
‘Hello, Mr Grover.’
Bob’s weatherbeaten face lit up. ‘Alex Merrick? Well, I never. Haven’t seen you since you were a nipper. How’s old Edgar?’
‘In rude health, thanks. Nice to see you again,’ said Alex, shaking hands. He cast a cold glance at Sarah. ‘Someone’s been causing trouble, Mr Grover, by posing as Greg here to make an offer for your barns. I’d like to know who it was.’
‘So would I,’ said Bob fiercely. ‘Come in, the three of you. My wife is out, but I can put the kettle on.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ said Alex, ‘but I’m pushed for time. Could you describe this man for me?’
Bob thought hard. ‘He was tall, about your age, and wore a suit and glasses. He drove a fancy foreign car.’
Sarah wanted to dig a hole in the farmyard and bury herself in it as Bob described a yellow Ferrari in detail.
‘He’d left it out on a verge, out of sight along the lane,’ he explained. ‘But it had settled into thickish mud when he went back to it, and he had to ask for help to push it out.’
‘Thanks, Mr Grover,’ said Alex. ‘Mystery solved. An old schoolfriend of mine playing a practical joke. I’ll have words with him.’
‘I’d like some words with the idiot myself,’ growled Bob. ‘It upset Mavis good and proper, I can tell you. Not,’ he said, smiling at Sarah, ‘that it made any difference. Miss Carver knows she can trust me to keep my word.’
‘I do indeed, Mr Grover,’ she assured him.
‘Trust is a very valuable commodity,’ said Alex pointedly. ‘Good to see you again, Mr Grover.’
‘Give your grandfather my regards.’ Bob turned to Sarah. ‘You’ll be here in the morning, then?’
‘That’s right. Tell your wife I’m sorry I missed her.’ Sarah managed a smile for him, then walked to the Cherokee, feeling like Marie Antoinette on the way to the guillotine.
Alex motioned to Greg to get in the car, but barred Sarah’s way.
‘What the hell was your boyfriend playing at?’ he asked in a furious undertone.
‘Boyfriend?’ Sarah eyed him balefully. ‘You know perfectly well that Dan Mason is not, and never has been, my “boyfriend”.’
‘Then what was he doing at your place the other night?’
‘How do you know he was there?’ she asked involuntarily.
‘I was idiot enough to call to see you,’ said Alex with disgust. ‘But I saw the Ferrari parked outside Medlar House and thought better of it.”
Sarah could have cried. ‘Dan came to apologise for his