Free His Convenient Marriage by Sara Craven

been—stimulating.'
    'It was,' he returned. 'Very. It happens like that, some¬times.'
    She walked past him to the communicating door on the other side of the room that led into her office. She paused in the doorway, and looked back, just in time to see Miles slipping the cream envelope into the pocket of his trousers, his face cold and abstracted.
    Clearly, it was something he needed to deal with in real privacy, she thought as she closed the door quietly, and sat down at the computer.
    And, as she so badly needed to remember, it was no concern of hers.
     
    Chessie found it irritatingly difficult to concentrate that morning. She faltered over the names of some of the Eastern European characters in the story, although they should have been perfectly familiar to her by now. Also, the plot had reached a high point of drama and crisis, and some of the scenes were correspondingly tough and violent, which disturbed her as it had never done in the past.
    I must be feeling ultra-sensitive today, she thought, crossly deleting another mistake.
    She was almost glad when the last page was transcribed, saved to disk and printed off to join the mounting pile of manuscript in her out-tray.
    She was dealing with the correspondence when Mrs. Chubb popped her head round the door.
    'Visitor,' she announced in a stage whisper.
    'Oh.' Chessie got up from her chair. 'I forgot to ask him about that. Is the room ready?'
    'Not that one.' Mrs. Chubb flapped a dismissive hand. 'Madam's come calling. Strolled up the drive while I was doing the brasses, and asked for Mr. Hunter. They're in the drawing room, and he wants you too.'
    As she reached the drawing-room door, Chessie paused, smoothing back her hair with her fingers and taking a deep breath. Then, teeth gritted, she went in.
    Miles, casually dressed in jeans and a white shirt, was standing by the empty fireplace, leaning against the mantel shelf.
    Linnet, decorative in honey-coloured silk, was draped across one of the sofas that flanked the hearth.
    'Such a bore, but no one was prepared to help at all,' she was saying, gesturing helplessly with one crimson-tipped hand. 'In the end I had to call one of the London nursing agencies, and they have someone who can start almost at once, thank heaven.'
    'It must be a weight off your mind,' Miles agreed gravely. He looked across at Chessie, his expression giving nothing away. 'Hello, darling. I hope we can offer Lady Markham some lunch.'
    'As long as it's not too inconvenient,' Linnet fluttered.
     
    'I'm sure I must be disrupting your latest oeuvre.' She turned to survey Chessie, absorbing her simple blue chambray shift dress. 'In housekeeper mode today, sweetie?'
    'That's what I'm paid for,' Chessie said lightly. 'Would soup and omelettes do?'
    'I'd really prefer eggs Benedict,' Linnet said sunnily. 'But whatever you can manage will be fine, Chessie, dear.'
    'Great,' Chessie returned with equal cheerfulness. 'Ome¬lettes it is, then.'
    The contents of the freezer in the storeroom adjoining the big kitchen were looking depleted. It looked to Chessie, hunting out the last carton of her home-made vegetable soup, as if she had a weekend of intensive cooking ahead of her.
    She put the soup on the stove to heat through gently, set a bottle of Chablis to chill, then dashed to the dining room with the bleached linen place mats and napkins, and a hand¬ful of cutlery.
    Back in the kitchen, she diced ham, grated cheese and chopped peppers, onions, tomatoes and salad potatoes to spice up the omelettes.
    'Everything under control?' Miles appeared in the door¬way behind her as she was whisking the eggs in a large bowl.
    'The food certainly is,' she said crisply. 'I can't vouch for my temper.'
    He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. 'Then con¬sider this your baptism of fire.'
    'I prefer to remain unscorched.' She drew a steadying breath. 'I'm sure you'll excuse me if I don't join the lunch party. I'll have a sandwich in my office.'
    'Then think again,' he