The British Billionaire's Innocent Bride. Susanne James
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brow cleared, and he stood up, taking a business card from his pocket.
‘My mobile number’s on this,’ he said briefly, handing it to Lily. ‘Give me a ring—any time—with your decision.’
Lily studied the card. ‘What if I interrupt something important?’ she asked, not looking up at him.
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ he said at once. ‘Bea also has my number, and she knows she can contact me at any time if necessary. My children come first in my life.’
They eventually said goodnight, and Lily watched for a moment as he strode away to return to his own hotel on the other side of the city. When she went inside, Sam was at the reception desk.
‘Oh—Lily!’ he exclaimed, coming over to give her a hug. ‘I’m terribly sorry about this evening. I’ll make up for it tomorrow, I promise. Is everything OK—where have you been?’
‘Out to a wonderful supper—and walking about, soaking up the atmosphere,’ Lily said happily.
And she was happy. She’d had a great evening, and she’d enjoyed a man’s company more than she could have believed possible. But most of all bubbling up in her consciousness was the fact that not once had he attempted to touch her, to take her hand or even to brush against her. They had not made physical contact all evening. And that was the best thing of all. No wonder she’d been able to completely relax.
As she got ready for bed, she glanced at the business card again. She’d ring him later on tomorrow, with her acceptance. After all, she’d be daft to turn down the opportunity of marking time—and being paid for it—while she reassessed her future.
CHAPTER THREE
A WEEK later, Lily caught the bus which would take her to the opposite end of the town—the posh end—where Theodore Montague lived. She was too ashamed to drive over in her battered old car, preferring to leave it where it was outside her flat.
It was Saturday, and she’d been invited over to tea to meet the children, and to see where she’d be spending much of the next three months of her life.
Gazing out of the window, Lily remembered again how appreciative Theo had been that she’d fallen in with his request, and he’d accepted the fact that she would give it until the end of October before moving on to pastures new.
‘By that time I ought to be able to find someone else,’ he’d said. ‘Especially if you’re around to sit in on the interviews.’ He’d paused. ‘I do think that a woman is better at assessing another woman in these special circumstances. You’ll probably spot the warning signs that seem to have gone over my head so far,’ he’d added.
Lily hadn’t made any comment, still surprised that he considered her, or her opinion, to be of any value. But it had made her feel good inside—had even made her look forward to the challenge of taking up this unlooked-for post. She would try her best to succeed where others had failed—maybe prove to herself that she wasn’t as bad at handling children as she’d thought. After all, it was only going to be for twelve weeks.
The house turned out to be one of a terrace of Georgian dwellings, opening out onto the street, with no front garden. The imposing shiny black front door was flanked on either side by two bay trees, and looked solid enough to keep out the most determined intruder.
Lily took a deep breath as she raised her hand to grasp the large knocker—but before she could make her presence known the door was flung open, and a tall, elderly grey-haired woman stood there, with two small boys jockeying for position in front of her.
‘Hello…you must be Lily!’ the woman exclaimed. ‘Do come in. We’ve been watching at the window, waiting for you.’ She smiled, standing aside for Lily to enter, and almost at once her heart lifted at the genuine welcome she was receiving.
‘Yes, I’m Lily,’ she said hesitantly. She looked down into the upturned faces of the children, whose interested eyes and ready smiles demonstrated their obvious well-being. ‘And you’re…Tom? And…Alexander?’ she asked.
‘No. I’m Alex,’ Alexander said promptly. ‘I hate people calling me Alexander.’
‘And I’m not Thomas. I’m Tom-Tom,’ the smaller child lisped.
‘I’ll remember.’ Lily smiled. She turned to the woman. ‘And you’re…Bea?’ she asked shyly.
‘That’s right, dear—Jill-of-all-trades and mistress of none!’ She looked down at the children. ‘Aren’t you going to say hello to Lily properly, boys?’
‘Hi, Lily,’ they chorused obediently.
‘That’s right. Now, Freya is out playing tennis at the moment,’ Bea explained, ‘but she’ll be back in an hour. Do come on through, Lily. Theodore is busy in his private study at the moment, but he’ll be finished shortly.’
Lily tried to take in her surroundings all at once—something she was very good at—and she was aware straight away of the luxury which surrounded her. The huge oak-floored entrance hall was enhanced at one end by a massive antique dresser on which stood two golden-shaded lamps, some expensive-looking objets d’art, and in the centre a silver-framed photograph of a beautiful dark-haired young woman. Lily glanced away quickly, not wanting to appear inquisitive—she didn’t need telling who that was. It could only be Elspeth, whose picture there—to be met by the gaze of every visitor—told its own story. She was still mistress here. Still the most important woman in the house.
Lily was ushered into a spacious, sunny, high-ceilinged room, with three large patterned sofas facing each other, and various footstools and small occasional tables. There was a mirror over the ornate fireplace, and on the mantelpiece were family photos—the one in the centre being of Elspeth, surrounded by her three children. The full-length windows were curtained to the floor in ivory and red striped material, and although opulence screamed at her from every angle, Lily immediately felt this to be a homely room—a room to be enjoyed rather than admired. To prove the point, the two boys immediately leapt on to one of the sofas and started having a friendly fight.
Lily wandered across to look at the garden, which was not only full of fruit trees and flowering bushes, but also the usual trappings of childhood—a climbing frame and a slide, a sandpit, and several footballs lying in corners.
She looked back at Bea, smiling. ‘Everything’s lovely,’ she said, and the older woman nodded.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘it is.’ She sighed. ‘I understand that you’ve been told of the circumstances here? So sudden… so sad,’ she added.
‘Yes,’ Lily said quickly, glancing across at the boys.
Bea followed her gaze. ‘It is beginning to get easier,’ she said quietly, ‘and we still talk about Mummy, of course.’ She raised her voice. ‘Now then, boys—who’s going to help me in with the tea things?’
The children immediately scrambled off the sofa and followed Bea out of the room, and Lily sank down on to one of the upholstered stools for a moment. She had never set foot in such a place in her life. Bella and Rosie’s home didn’t even come close, she thought. For a moment, she panicked. What was she doing here? Had she had a sudden rush of blood to the head in agreeing to do this? Theodore Montague might have seemed a pleasant person away from England, but she was in no doubt that he could be very different in a work situation. And that was what she was here for. To work.
She could hear the children’s raised voices in the distance—obviously coming from the kitchen—and Lily dropped her head into her hands for a second. Here she was, having to prove herself once more, she thought. Somewhere new, with different people—whose true expectations were unknown.
‘Is everything all right?’ The well-remembered dark tones cut into her reverie, and Lily raised her head quickly, standing up. Her new employer stood just inside the door, looking across at her with that whimsical expression on his face she’d come to recognise. He was wearing chinos and a dark