“It’s a big house to stay in by yourself.”
Hazel offered the visitor a second tea cake. “Oh, Leah is rarely alone. We are like one big, happy family around here. There’s always a steady stream of people to keep her company.”
“I’d love to have a look around.” His brown eyes twinkled beneath bushy gray brows.
Leah crossed to the sink to wash out her mug. “I’m sure Jackson would be happy to show you the house if you call in another time. You just missed him today.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Alistair’s son yet.” If anything, Landon Peake twinkled even harder. “But maybe you could tell him I stopped by?”
“I’ll do that.”
“What line of business are you in, Mr. Peake?” Hazel asked innocently.
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that. I’m fortunate enough to be able to dabble.”
“And what are you dabbling in at the moment?” Marjorie’s eyelashes fluttered in a most beguiling way.
Landon Peake twisted the cufflink in one pristine sleeve and leaned toward her. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” He threw back his head and laughed when Marjorie slapped his arm.
“More tea, Mr. Peake?” Hazel lifted the pot.
“Sadly, I ought to head off. I’ve a busy day ahead and this was only a fleeting visit.”
Leah walked him to the front door. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Peake. Drive carefully.”
The older man took the glasses from his suit pocket and sat them on his nose, his genial smile at odds with the sudden flinty edge to his voice. “Thank you for your concern, Miss Raven. I hope you will take care, too. Accidents can happen all too often in old houses. Such a shame when they could easily be prevented.”
“Is there something you’re trying to tell me?” Leah drew herself up and wished she were taller.
“Not at all, Miss Raven. I have no doubt the Hales will be more than considerate of your safety when you let them know of my concerns.”
Landon Peake skirted the rotting porch steps and climbed into a carnelian red Mercedes. Raising a hand in farewell, he sped down the drive. Leah watched until he was out of sight.
In the kitchen, she shook her head at Hazel and Marjorie. “You can’t go throwing open the door to strangers. Jackson wouldn’t like it.”
Hazel began to gather up the china. “I was curious. I wanted to know what Mr. Peake was doing here.”
“And what if he turned out to be up to no good?”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s any doubt he’s up to no good.” Hazel sounded quite pleased about the fact. “I believe we all came to that conclusion. There was far too much eye contact and toothy smiling for my liking.”
“He’s also very short.” Marjorie agreed. “My father told me not to trust short men. He said they always have something to prove.” She seemed to have temporarily forgotten Gerry was barely five foot eight.
“Plus, Pine Springs doesn’t have any sights to take in.” Hazel stared thoughtfully out of the window. “Unless you count the Elite Lodge Hotel. And no one with any sense would do that.”
“So, why did you let him in?” Leah smiled with reluctant amusement.
“Well, a stranger at breakfast is all rather thrilling, isn’t it? Especially on a Monday.”
Chapter 16
Jackson
He didn’t make it back to Amity Court on Friday, didn’t even leave the office until ten at night. Saturday was impossible, too.
Jackson found himself going over and over the schedule of works for each of their projects, double-checking and triple-checking orders and calculations until the numbers began to blur. Then he called an emergency meeting with their finance manager, his dad, and Florian to brainstorm how they could manipulate their current funds to meet the interim payments on Landon Peake’s loan.
By Sunday morning, he was shattered. Dinner with his parents had been as stilted as ever. Their house beat with the heaviness of Dominic’s absence and his parents had zeroed in on every one of his flaws with their usual precision. The one thing he should have foreseen but hadn’t was Niamh telling them about Leah after he’d carefully kept all mention of her from previous discussions. So now everyone was coming to Amity Court to “check out the squatter” and “count the silverware.” With a pounding headache and a silent Niamh—plugged into a podcast next to him but refusing to let him turn on the radio—Jackson couldn’t imagine a worse way to arrive at the place he’d begun to think of as a haven.
