Hannah remembered what her mother had said about Padley Court being almost uninhabitable, and gave him a querying look.

'What do you intend to do with it, then?' she asked him, visions of a hotel complex or conference facilities of some sort being developed in the beautiful old house and grounds, and unwillingly acknowledging that, despite the good business sense of 'such a move, she would be sad to see the gracious old place turned into yet another prestige hotel.

'I intend to turn it into a holiday home for single-, parent families,'

Silas told her, astounding her.

Her mouth dropped and she turned to stare at him. Although he was concentrating on the traffic, there was nothing in his profile to indicate that he was teasing her.

'You don't approve?' he queried, obviously mistaking her shock for disapproval. 'You're not the only one. I've had to do some pretty heavy fighting with the local council to get them to agree to my proposal. Some of them seem to think the words "one-parent family" are synonymous with delinquent children and uncaring mothers,' he added very bitterly. 'However, I managed to get the plans pa.s.sed? Luckily I had the support of a very powerful local landowner. I personally won't be running the place, of course. I've appointed, or will appoint, a board of trustees to do that. I will be one of the trustees, but needless to say I won't be able to give the venture my full-time attention. I've bought the parkland with the house and several acres of land, not enough to farm on a profitable basis, but certainly enough to keep a few animals, the idea being that city children would be given a taste of traditional country life through various charitable organisations all over the country.

'We hope to be able to offer to those who are most in need of it one week and in some cases two weeks' holiday at no expense to themselves. I'm sorry if the idea doesn't meet with your approval,' he added a trifle drily when she said nothing.

Not meet With her approval? Hannah could only stare at him belligerently, wondering how on earth she had managed to convey to him such an impression that he considered her so devoid of feeling that she couldn't see how wonderful his idea was.

'Of course I approve,' she told him fiercely. 'I think it's a wonderful idea.'

'Good.' He glanced at her, giving her a genuinely warm smile. 'I'm glad about that, because I'm hoping to more or less put you in charge of the day-to-day organisation and control of the building work. IH be giving you an a.s.sistant to help you with all the paperwork that will be involved, but unless it's something that needs my direct attention, everyone concerned in the work on the place will report directly to you.'

That he should have enough faith in her to give her such responsibility almost took Hannah's breath away. It was a project dearer to her heart than anything she had ever worked on before.

She could feel the adrenalin pumping excitedly through her veins at the thought of the challenges ahead of her, and then she checked and said uncertainly, 'But you employed me as your personal a.s.sistant -'

'Which you will-still be,' Silas a.s.sured her calmly. 'That is why I'm giving you an a.s.sistant to help you with the day-to-day paperwork involved in the scheme.'

They were deeply enmeshed in the business of the London traffic and Hannah sat back in her seat, her mind buzzing with ideas and questions, none of which she wanted to put to Silas while He was concentrating so intently on his driving.

She couldn't wait to reach Padley and see for herself just exactly what he intended to do. She knew the estate only very vaguely, having visited it as a child with her parents when they had gone round the gardens. A thought suddenly struck her, and she asked quickly, 'The gardens. What will happen to those? They're on show to the public normally, several times a year.'

'They only occupy a very small part of the estate,' Silas told her calmly. 'They will be out of bounds to the children and maintained as they are now by a small workforce. They will still be open to the public; in fact, we're hoping to open them on a far more regular basis. We're also considering establishing several workshops in some of the outbuildings to the house, hopefully encouraging local craftsmen to set up business there and perhaps even employ some of the older teenagers of the families who will be making use of the place's facilities. The leisure market is booming at the moment, and of course, the more funds we attract to the place, the easier the job of the trustees will be.'

'How will it be financed?' Hannah asked him curiously.

'Largely by private donations.' His voice was clipped, warning her that he didn't want her to pursue her line of questioning, and Hannah suspected instinctively that the major proportion of those private subscriptions would come from Silas himself.

She wondered how much his own childhood with his aunt had influenced his decision to make such an altruistic gesture.

'Tonight we'll be having dinner with the landowner I was telling you about, and his wife. There are several points concerning the eventual running of the place that I want to go over with him. You may know him already: Lord Charles Redvers.'

Hannah shook her head. 'I've heard of him, of course, Redvers Hall is only about thirty miles from my parents' village, but I don't think I've ever actually met him.'

She had also heard about Lord Redvers' wife, Fiona, a very beautiful woman, some twenty years her husband's junior, who it was rumoured had had several discreet affairs during the course of her marriage to Lord Redvers. Hannah didn't place too much credence on this latter information. Small villages were notorious hotbeds of gossip, so she didn't mention Lady Redvers and instead asked Silas how he had come to meet the peer.

'The agents who sold me Padley Court put me in touch with him.

I've been on the lookout for a place like Padley for quite some time, and before I bought it I advised the agents exactly what I planned to do with it. They warned me that I would come up against quite a lot of local opposition, but they recommended that I get in touch with Lord Redvers, who I believe has something of a reputation as a philanthropist locally.'

This much was true. Hannah had heard her father mention Lord Redvers as a very generous benefactor of several local charities.

While Hannah remembered Padley Gardens from her visit with her parents as a child, she had no real conception of the house itself, and therefore it came as rather a shock to see how enormous it was. No wonder Silas had been surprised to hear that she believed that he was going to live in it himself.

He turned in through the open drive gates, his car crunching slowly over the gravel. Ahead of them the Tudor brick bulk of the huge house dominated the landscape, its mullioned windows reflecting the sunlight as the sun finally managed to pierce the grey blanket of cloud. The avenue of limes that led to the house was an awe-inspiring sight, despite several gaps in its symmetry, betraying where trees had died over the centuries. But, instead of driving down the avenue, Silas turned off to the left along a b.u.mpy, unmade track.

'Once the builders start work I'm going to have a proper drive made to the Dower House,' he told her, moderating the speed of the car to lessen the effect of the rutted lane.

'How old is the Dower House?' Hannah asked him, not remembering it from previous visits.

'Not as old as the house. It was built early in the eighteenth century, apparently designed by a pupil of' Inigo Jones. It isn't overly large: three storeys, with five bedrooms on the first floor and then another four on the second. It's also got cellars, which I plan to use to house the computer equipment I'll need to work from home.'

Curiously Hannah asked him, 'When you bought Padley, didn't it occur to you that you could perhaps use it as your head office?'

He shook his head decisively.

'No, it's far too large, for one thing. For another, it wouldn't be fair to the rest of the staff. Central London might be an expensive location to be based in, but it does have certain advantages. If we relocated out here, we would be bound to lose some key members of staff who simply wouldn't be able to travel. Here we are,' he announced, swinging the car round, and Hannah gasped as she had her first glimpse of the Dower House.

Although Silas had described it as relatively small, it was in fact a very substantial building, designed, as he had already informed her, after the school of Inigo Jones, with perfectly proportioned windows and a graciously austere exterior with shallow steps leading up to the impressive porticoed entrance.

'I haven't had much time to do anything about the inside yet,' he warned her as he stopped the car on the gravel forecourt in front of the house, it's habitable rather than comfortable. On the days when I'm working from here, a Mrs Parkinson comes in from the village to give the place a clean-through and to prepare any meals that might be required.'

He released himself from his seat-belt and got out of the car with one easy, graceful movement which Hannah envied as she continued to struggle a little with hers. She had her hand on the handle of the car door when he appeared outside and opened it for her. Thoroughly fl.u.s.tered, she allowed him to help her from the car, cross with herself for the way she was reacting to his proximity. It wasn't even as though she was unused to such small, good-mannered formalities, so why all the nervous reaction and desperate attempt to avoid any contact with him as he reached into the car and placed his hand under her elbow, making it easier for her to step outside?

Why? Did she really need to ask herself that question? she derided herself mentally. She already knew quite well why-why it was that when Silas touched her a rash of fiery darts tingled through her skin and her heart started beating at almost twice its normal rate. Why her stomach churned and her heart seemed to leap and turn over beneath her ribs/Why her whole body seemed to come alive and why danger signals flashed despairingly from her brain.

'Are you all right?' he asked her solicitously. 'You look a little bit pale.'

'A headache,' Hannah fibbed, guiltily, already aware he was standing far too close to her, scrutinising her far too intently, and that if she didn't pull away from him very soon she was all too likely to betray exactly what it was that was wrong with her. Despairingly she pulled away from him, watching a small frown crease his forehead and the coolness lighten the silver of his eyes.

He had every right to feel annoyed with Tier. She was behaving like an adolescent, although she suspected he was probably putting her behaviour down to some feminist impulses that would not allow her to accept even the smallest courtesy from him. He was so wrong, but she couldn't tell him that.

'After lunch, I'll show you round the grounds,' he told her curtly. 'A little bit of fresh air should help with your headache, unless of course you'd rather go straight up to your room and lie down for half an hour.'

Hannah shook her head, appalled by his response to her deceit.

'It's nothing,' she a.s.sured him, this time truthfully. 'I'm sure it will go almost straight away.'

The front door was already opening as they approached it, a small, plump woman standing in the shadows of the hall. As Hannah stepped inside she, caught her breath in pleasure, looking upwards, following the line of the gracefully curved, wrought- iron bal.u.s.trade. Her heels rang noisily on the traditionally lozenge-tiled black and white floor.

The hall had at some stage been panelled, and the panels were now painted in a flat cream emulsion that did nothing for them. She must have wrinkled her nose in distaste almost without being aware of it, because suddenly at her side Silas said grimly, 'I quite agree.

Atrocious, isn't it? One of the first things I intend to do as soon as I can get round to it is to have these panels stripped back to their natural wood finish. Good morning, Mrs Parkinson,' he greeted the other woman, introducing Hannah to her and then suggesting to Mrs Parkinson that she took Hannah upstairs and showed her which bedroom she had been allocated.

'It's just a buffet lunch, Mr Jeffreys,' Mrs Parkinson told him as she smiled at Hannah and walked towards the staircase. 'You did say something light, because you were dining out this evening.'

'That will be fine, Mrs Parkinson,' Silas a.s.sured her. 'I want to show Hannah round the grounds and the house itself later on this afternoon. While Mrs Parkinson shows you to your room, I'm going to go to check the answering machine,' he announced to Hannah.

'Take your time. There's no need to rush back downstairs.'

'It's this way, Miss Maitland,' Mrs Parkinson said formally to Hannah, preceding .her up the stairs.

She was cheerful and friendly, and obviously thoroughly enjoyed working for Silas. It seemed she knew all about his plans for the big house, and although she was quite frank about the opposition of some of the more hardliners among the villagers it seemed to Hannah that on balance most of the locals approved of what Silas intended to do.

'It stands to reason that the ordinary folk will be pleased,' Mrs Parkinson announced a little breathlessly as they reached the first-floor landing and she waited for Hannah to join her. 'Something like that means work, and that's something we're short of around here.'

'I know,' Hannah agreed. 'My family live just over fifty miles away.'

She went on to explain just who her father was, and Mrs Parkinson said that she seemed to have heard of the vicar.

'I've got a cousin who lives over that way,' she went on to tell Hannah. 'A regular churchgoer she is, too. It's this room, miss.' She stopped outside one of the doors and opened it for Hannah.

The room was enormous, all faded elegance and so evocative of a bygone age that Hannah felt that she could almost smell the dry old scent of lavender in the air. As well as the elegant French empire four-poster, the room also boasted a day- bed elegantly covered in silk damask, now faded and worn in places, but still possessed of the richness that made it impossible for Hannah to resist touching it with her fingers. The bed was draped in the same fabric with a matching coverlet, both of them probably priceless.

Hannah suspected that they must be part of the original fittings of the house, and this was confirmed when Mrs Parkinson informed her that Silas had bought the house with all of its contents.

'I'll leave you up here to unpack,' she told Hannah. 'Mr Jeffreys normally likes lunch at twelve-thirty prompt.'

'I shan't be as long as that,' Hannah a.s.sured her.

it will only take me a few minutes to unpack my bag. Where do I go when I come downstairs?' she asked the older woman, listening carefully as Mrs Parkinson gave her rather obscure directions.

All she had brought with her was a change of underwear, her jeans and casual clothes to wear over the weekend while she was staying with her parents, and nothing that was at all suitable for wearing for going out to dinner. She frowned a little over this error on her own part, wishing that she had had the forethought to pack a simple dress in her bag.

It was too late now to worry about it. She would simply have to go out to dinner in what she was wearing. However, she reflected that to Silas her lack of attention to such a detail might hint that she was not quite as efficient as she ought to be. She was still frowning over this when she went downstairs, hesitating as she reached the bottom step, not quite sure from Mrs Parkinson's directions exactly where she was supposed to go.

Her dilemma was solved for her when one of the doors off the hall suddenly opened and Silas came out.

'Ah, good. I thought those were your footsteps I heard on the stairs,'

he announced, smiling at her.

Like her, he was dressed in comfortable rather than city clothes, trousers in a mixture of wool and what she suspected was very probably silk in a faintly tweedy design. It went well with the oatmeal sweater he was wearing over his sports shirt. She had noticed a leather jacket thrown casually on the back seat of the car.

'I'm using this room as my study,' he informed her, holding the door open and gesturing to her to go in. Obediently she did so.

The room looked out over the side of the house, with views across the parkland to the main house in the distance. In style it was very similar to his office in London, although here the fabrics were very faded and the furnishings rather more battered. The Aubusson rug on the floor had holes in it and threadbare patches, but none of that detracted in the slightest from the delightful warmth of the room.

There was even a fire burning in the grate, and he smiled when he saw her looking at it.

'As yet, the house doesn't have the benefits of any form of central heating, so Mrs Parkinson knows to light fires whenever I come down. It helps to keep the house aired, apart from anything else. Oh, and before we get involved in anything else, one or two points about tonight. We'll be dining with Lord Redvers in his own home.

Although he hasn't said, I suspect we probably won't be the only dinner guests. I'm hoping to have the opportunity to have a few words with him in private before we leave.

'Naturally I'll introduce you to him as my a.s.sistant, but he's one of the old school and you might find yourself relegated to the drawing-room and the teacups.' He saw that she was frowning and smiled ruefully at her.

'Do you disapprove? I'm not surprised. I suspect you think I should take issue with Lord Redvers and inform him that today's woman quite rightfully expects due appreciation to be made of the fact that she is every bit as intelligent as her male counterpart. However, in this instance, I feel it would be unwise to antagonise him. It's really only his support that's swinging the county die-hards over to our point of view.'

Hannah checked him quickly, it isn't that.'

As soon as Silas had mentioned that they might not be the only people dining with Lord and Lady Redvers, her concern regarding suitable lack of clothing had increased. Normally it wouldn't have mattered, but she was very much aware that she was a representative of the company, and that as such she ought to be dressed accordingly.

'What is it, then?' Silas asked her.

She gave him an apologetic look. 'I'm sorry, but it just never occurred to me that we might be dining out formally, and I haven't brought with me anything suitable to wear.'

'Ah.' For a moment she almost thought he was actually going to laugh at her, but if he was indeed amused he managed to conceal it from her.

'Of course I'm quite happy to wear the outfit I have on now -' she told him stiffly.

'No, you can't do that.' He cut right across what she had been going to say with a decisive shake of his head. 'Lord Redvers is a stickler for form. It's my fault, really. I should have warned you to bring an outfit suitable for evening wear with you. In fact, I did intend to mention it to Maggie-but the problem isn't insoluble,' he told her firmly, after a second consideration. 'We're only about ten miles from Shaftesbury. You can take the car and drive over there this afternoon and buy something suitable to wear.'

Hannah looked as shocked as she felt.

'Drive your car?' she protested. 'Oh, no, I couldn't do that.'

He gave her an extremely dry look.

'Why not? There might, after all, be occasions when you have to. If you haven't got a credit card with you, I'll give you a cheque.'

Quickly Hannah shook her head. 'No. It's all right, I've...'

"The company will pay for the Outfit, Hannah,' he interrupted her firmly. 'Let's not waste any time arguing about this.' He glanced at his watch. 'We've got one h.e.l.l of a lot to get through this afternoon. I suggest you go to Shaftesbury. I've got some papers here in my briefcase that I can be going through white you've gone. I think I can spare you for about an hour, an hour and a half at the most.'

Once again Hannah discovered she was being put in a position where it was impossible to argue with him. The buffet lunch Mrs Parkinson had mentioned to them was set oat in what Silas described as the original breakfast-room to the house -a pretty, pleasantly sized room overlooking the rear courtyard, and which he explained to her caught the early-morning sun.

The buffet was substantial enough to feed a workforce far in excess of theirs. Hannah picked nervously at the contents of her own plate, wondering if Silas was regretting bringing her with him. So far during the short period of her employment with him she seemed to have made her fair share of mistakes. It was impossible to read anything from his shuttered expression, but as soon as she possibly could she drank the last of her coffee and got up, saying unsteadily, 'I'll go to Shaftesbury now, then, shall I?'

His eyebrows lifted, if you're sure you've had enough to eat. I'm not a slave-driver, Hannah,' he pointed out drily.

'I'm not hungry,' she a.s.sured him truthfully. 'I never eat a large meal during the day.'

He reached into his trouser pocket to remove his car keys, the movement drawing the pocket tautly against the muscles of his thighs. As she followed the small movement, Hannah felt her face start to burn with conscious awareness of both him and her reaction to him.

She looked away hurriedly, furious with herself for her idiotic and unprofessional behaviour.

'I'll be back just as soon as I can,' she a.s.sured him, taking the keys from him. They were still warm from their intimate contact with his body, and as she closed her hand around them she felt her palm start to sweat slightly in nervous awareness.

Luckily she already knew the way to Shaftesbury, and the Daimler, once she had got used to its small idiosyncrasies, proved a joy to drive. She parked in a large car park just outside the main shopping centre, checking carefully to make sure the car was securely locked before hurrying towards the shops.

It would be just her luck to find that none of the shops had anything remotely suitable, she reflected crossly, as she glanced in the window of the first one she came to, and dismissed the outfits she saw there. A quarter of an hour later she had almost reached the point of total despair. So far every shop she had seen had been totally unable to provide her with what she needed, and then, just as she was about to give up,- she rounded a corner into a narrow alleyway and discovered tucked away there a small shopfront that boasted one simple outfit, a plain black dress with a tulip-shaped skirt, long sleeves and a slightly scooped neckline.

She knew the moment she saw it that it would be absolutely ideal, and she found as she walked into the shop that she was holding her breath, hardly daring to hope that they might have it in her size.

The girl inside the shop listened sympathetically as she explained her plight. The dress was part of their new autumn stock, she told Hannah, and she would have to check on the size. After she had done so, she gave Hannah a warm smile.

'You're in luck,' she told her. 'We've only got two of this particular style. One of them I happen to know is a fourteen. This one is the ten.'

Hannah let out her breath in a shaky sigh of relief, waiting while the girl deftly removed the dress from the model. She tried it on quickly in the privacy of one of the two cubicles, relieved to discover that it fitted her perfectly.

When she came out to study her reflection in the long mirror, the salesgirl's eyes opened wide in admiration.