Pippa exhaled shakily. What was easy about her life right now? But there was something about Wolfie’s calmness that encouraged her to at least try and talk about it. She smoothed her dress over her knees. “My boyfriend owns the farm. Well, my ex-boyfriend. I mean ... heownedit. Past tense. Because he sold it. And now, because my parents emigrated to Florida, I’m without a home and also a job. And a boyfriend.” For a horrifying moment, she felt tears threaten and she stared intently at her knuckles, white as they gripped the fabric of her dress.Don’t cry,she berated herself. Wolfie didn’t seem like the type of person who tolerated displays of demonstrable emotions. To her surprise, he didn’t appear perturbed. He merely lowered his leg to a neutral sitting position and leaned forward, his forearms leaning on his thighs.
“I’m sorry for your trouble,” he said eventually. His face was impassive but not unkind. He was sitting so closely to her she could feel the warmth radiating off him and when Pippa finally felt able to control her tears and look him in the eye, she was totally unprepared for the swooping sensation in her stomach that accompanied the gesture.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
Wolfie took a breath and turned his face away. “Let me show you the living quarters.” He jumped up and strode off towards the sweeping staircase and Pippa trotted after him in an effort to keep up. Their feet clattered against the hardwood stairs, and soon they emerged onto a gallery-style landing. Large rectangular patches denoted where pictures must have hung and a few remained, covered in thick hessian sheets. As Wolfie peeled off down a hallway, it struck Pippa just how quiet the house was, the way their movements echoed. No laughter greeted them, not even the sound of a radio or TV. The house was utterly lifeless.
“Here.” Wolfie gestured to a room. “This is where you would sleep.”
“Wow,” Pippa gushed for the second time. She’d been expecting a little garret in the servants’ quarters, not this. The room was huge, with a bay window looking out across the varied landscape of moorland and crags dotted with swathes of heather rippling in the summer breeze. The furniture was simple but elegant: a four-poster bed, a wardrobe and drawers, as well as an overstuffed armchair positioned to take in the view.
“Bathroom next door,” Wolfie said. “Water pressure here is non-existent so expect your showers to be fleeting at best.” As if on cue there was a cranking noise from the walls and Wolfie huffed. “The pipes like to announce their presence from time to time.”
“This room is gorgeous.” Pippa ran her hands along the crisp white bedlinens. The mattress felt perfectly firm too. But then something occurred to her. “You’re talking as if I’ve got the job. Is there no one else to interview?”
Wolfie smiled briefly, like a sunbeam piercing dense fog. “You presume we’ve been inundated with applications.”
“I don’t know what I thought.” Pippa didn’t have vast experience of applying for jobs, but from her recent attempts, there often was competition for any role worth having.
He regarded her for a long moment. His eyes really were the most stunning shade of blue and being in their full beam felt like an interrogation. “We’ve not had any other applications,” he said eventually.
“Seriously?” Pippa was incredulous. From her brief research into housesitting, she knew it was a popular pastime and she would have bet that a house like Squires was a desirable gig.
“Seriously.” He looked away.
“Why?”
Wolfie’s eyes widened. “The, er, responsibilities demanded, maybe? Not sure. It was a relief to see you had applied.”
“Right.” Pippa didn’t care that Wolfie was basically admitting that he was desperate, because essentially, she was desperate too.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
What was she thinking? Pippa stifled a hysterical giggle, because she was thinking that right now, she should be down on Goodman’s Farm, managing the wages. The new calves would be getting bigger by the day, something that she should be there to witness. She should be calling the feed supplier to haggle on the next quarter’s orders. And in that other life, she and Alex should be planning a wedding, a future together. She swallowed.
“I think … I’m in if you’ll have me,” she said.
“Oh, yes.” His mouth quirked. “Do you think you can handle Squires?”
Pippa lifted her chin. The blunt truth was that she had to. Being homeless, she didn’t have a choice. Besides, Alex had put her through hell, hadn’t he? And she’d survived, right? Watching over a house would be a doddle. “Not a problem.”
“Great,” Wolfie said. “If you have any issues, you can always give Grantham a buzz in the first instance.” He turned to walk but paused, pointing down the hall to the door at the end. “By the way, I stay in that room just down the hall when I visit. I tend to it myself, so you won’t need to do anything in there.”
“Of course.” Pippa flushed at the very idea that she’d enter his room. If Wolfie noticed her discomfort, he didn’t show it. Instead, he headed off to the stairs again, loping down quickly. Pippa hurried after him. He stopped in the entrance hall, looking down at her.
“When can you start?” he asked.
“Almost immediately,” Pippa said. “I’m crashing at my cousin’s. I’m sure he’ll be happy for me to get out from under his feet.”
Wolfie nodded curtly. “That’s good to know. My schedule is packed, and I don’t have much time to get this done, so I need someone here I can trust.” He folded his arms, swallowed visibly. “Can I trust you, Pippa Munro?”
There was a rawness in his words that made Pippa start. Wolfie’s eyes bored into hers and she straightened her spine. Some inner cognition told her it was deeply important that Wolfie believed he could trust her. “You can trust me,” she said.
Wolfie’s mouth twitched in what might have been a smile on anyone else. “Great.” His warm palm enveloped hers in a handshake that was firm and commanding. As their skin made contact, Pippa felt once more as if she were about to step off a high ledge into a vast, groundless void. Her stomach jumped, her breath caught and so she kept her eyes on Wolfie’s collar. She didn’t know what would happen in that moment if she met his gaze, but she was certain that she wasn’t ready for it.
“Right, okay, you’re happy for me to move in immediately?” Pippa asked, her voice scratchy.
“Absolutely,” he replied. “Grantham will call you, confirm the move-in date and you can give him your particulars, your bank details.” A shrill ringing filled the air. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and rolled his eyes. “I must take this call. Are you all right to see yourself out?” And with that, he started the call, barked, “Wolfie Squires,” and powered off back into the library, leaving Pippa alone in the huge hallway, wondering what on earth she’d let herself in for.
