A Whirlwind Marriage by Helen Brooks Read Free Book Online

and as their only son he inherited the family home when they died. Rather than sell it he moved his family in because it was such a beautiful place. Anyway, the kids are grown up and his wife suffers with bad arthritis so they’re leaving England for warmer climates. Portugal, I think, or it might have been Spain.’
    ‘And they want to sell their house?’ Marianne had asked somewhat wearily. She felt as though she had been rushing from one end of the country to the other for decades, and Zeke hadn’t been very sympathetic when she’d had a grumble the night before. Still, at least they weren’t arguing—they didn’t see each other enough for that since she’d been house-hunting!
    ‘That’s the idea, although Wilf’s reluctant to put it on the open market, I think. He was born there and I think he’s loath to sell to just anyone. He’s very attached to the old place.’
    ‘I’m not just anyone.’ She’d suddenly had a good feeling about this.
    ‘No, you’re not,’ her father had agreed with warm smile. ‘I’ll give Wilf a ring after lunch, if you like, and Zeke can talk to him.’
    ‘ I’ll talk to him,’ Marianne had said firmly. ‘I’m the one in charge of the house-hunting.’
    ‘Right.’ Her father had raised his eyebrows at Zeke, who had shrugged amiably, and then both men had shared an indulgent, male bonding type of smile. Marianne hadn’t minded; she was determined to find a house and then start on the next phase of her life, and if it could be done pleasantly all well and good. The iron fist in a velvet glove approach had its uses.
    Wilf Bedlows’ Victorian white-washed house overlooked a leafy common on the London side ofHertfordshire, and when Marianne arrived to look at the property on a frosty November morning the weak sun was making the frost glitter like diamond dust on the bare trees and frozen grass.
    She sat for some time in the warm, comfortable BMW Zeke had bought for her when they had first got married, just looking at the large sprawling house from her vantage point on the quiet country road running parallel with the common. She loved it already.
    Wilf and his wife made her very welcome, and their passion for their home was plain from the beginning, each room reflecting the love and enthusiasm they had poured into the property.
    When Marianne entered the large, sloping-roofed porch an immediate feeling of peace and tranquillity surrounded her; the two white Lloyd Loom chairs and small cane table suggested the porch would be a delightful suntrap in the summer.
    The hall was impressive: mellow tones of ancient oak dominated the vast space, the staircase, doors and wooden floor all reminiscent of another era. And so it continued all through her tour of the house.
    Each of the five bedrooms had its own en suite bathroom, the master bedroom overlooking the two acres of ground at the back of the property which were set with informal flowerbeds, flowering bushes and mature trees. Elegant lawns meandered down to the site of a small, exquisitely restored little chapel, surrounded by a bower of roses which Wilf’s wife assured her made a sweet-smelling retreat in the summer months.
    The large drawing room, family sitting room, dining room and breakfast room were all enchanting, and the big kitchen—complete with bunches of dried flowers and baskets hanging from the walls and ceiling, which gave thered-tiled surroundings a distinctly Mediterranean feel—had a gallery above it which had been enclosed to make a large, sun-filled study.
    It was a family house—warm, vibrant, alive and welcoming—and by the time she left after a delicious lunch Marianne had arranged to bring Zeke down to view that same evening.
    She hardly knew what to do with herself on the drive back to the apartment, her heart singing and her mind full of colour schemes and new furnishings. Pale green and a warm, buttery yellow for the drawing room—she had always loathed Zeke’s icy blue and gold—and the