The Little Cottage on the Hill

Book 1: The Little Cottage

by Emma Davies

Genres: Romance; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Comedy

Synopsis

There’s blossom in the trees and daffodils as far as the eye can see. Maddie is looking forward to a fresh start in the countryside, but there’s just one little problem…

Following a scandal at her high-flying PR agency, twenty-six-year-old Maddie flees London to help promote what she thinks is going to be a luxurious holiday retreat in the countryside. Everything is riding on her making a success of this new job…

Yet when she arrives, Maddie is horrified to find a rundown old farm in a terrible state. The brooding and secretive owner, Seth, spent all his money on leasing the land when he fell in love with the beautiful, dishevelled farm cottages and the very romantic story behind them.

When Maddie discovers an old oil painting by the original owner’s wife, she unlocks the secret of the farm’s history and quickly realises she must start getting her hands dirty if this very special place is going to have any chance of survival. As she and Seth begin working together, the stunning view from the top of the hill is not the only thing that’s leaving her breathless…

After weeks of hard work the dream looks like it might become a reality, until a secret from Maddie’s past threatens to snatch it all away again. Can Maddie find a way to save the business and herself? Will she finally find a place to keep her heart within the crumbling walls of the little cottage on the hill?

Perfect for fans of Jenny Colgan, Lucy Diamond and Debbie Johnson who are looking to escape to the countryside and fall in love watching the seasons change.

 

Release date: February 19, 2018

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 282

Sample

Madeline peered through the windscreen at the road ahead, but all she could see were tall hedges towering above her on either side in a long dark tunnel stretching up the hill in front of her – to where, she had absolutely no idea.

She glanced at her watch anxiously and inched the car forwards. She had followed the farmer’s instructions implicitly but they seemed to require a level of local knowledge she simply didn’t have and, despite his assurances, she couldn’t see a single turning off this lane. She must have missed the big blue sign that he’d said she couldn’t miss. She was at least halfway up the hill now and becoming more nervous with every minute. What if a great big tractor appeared at the top of the narrow lane and she had to wedge her beautiful sports car up against the unyielding branches in the hedgerows beside her? So far, she hadn’t got a scratch on it.

There was nothing for it, she would have to get out. The farmer had promised that the farm lane was only just around the corner after the post box, and she was right where she should be. She paused by a gap in the hedge scarcely a car’s width wide and opened the car door to get a better look. She gingerly placed her heels on the ground. At least it wasn’t raining; mud would be so much worse than dust and her new buttermilk suede shoes, which perfectly matched her new dress, would be easily marked. She tottered over to the gap in the hedge, and peered through the opening. Did people really drive their cars down here? She turned back to look at her pride and joy, teeth gritted. She was beginning to get a little irritated now.

Just as she was about to get back in the car, a flash of something blue deep within the hedge caught her eye, and she stopped, moving closer. She poked through the overgrown greenery, scowling as moss and dirt caught under her perfect manicure. There was definitely something in there. She pulled until a long vine came away in her hands to reveal the edge of something blue with white lettering. She stepped a little closer and peered in at the sign. She could just make out the words: Joy’s Acre.

Relieved, she turned on her heel to get back in her car, but as she did so, one of her feet slid into a rut at the side of the road. She stumbled slightly, instinctively putting out a hand and feeling a sharp sting of nettles burn across her palm. As large white welts travelled up her wrist, she staggered backwards right into an overhanging branch that tangled itself in her hair and unravelled her elegant chignon as she pulled away. A whole section of her slippery dark hair slid out of place and flopped against her cheek.

Madeline stared into the tiny lane ahead of her. This was just her luck. After all she’d been through to get this far – the chance of a new job, and the fresh start she so desperately needed just within her reach – and now she was late and looked a complete mess to boot. So much for first impressions. She stomped back to the car and climbed inside, slamming the door. Her hands fluttered anxiously to her hair to try to fix the damage, but without pins it was hopeless. The best she could do was tuck the ends in and try not to move her head too much. She bit her lip to stop her tears from welling.

Taking a deep breath in, she fired up the engine and swung the car towards the turning. This was not what she expected at all, not even close to what had been described in her interview. Mercifully, as soon as she was through the gap in the hedge, the lane widened and the hedges lowered a little so she could see she was skirting the edge of a field, glimpses of green flashing at her through the gaps. After navigating a tight right-hand bend, she came to a wide clearing where a couple of other vehicles were parked in front of a line of fencing. Beyond, she could see a dusty yard, a large red-brick house, numerous chickens and two sheepdogs running around in circles, barking. Her heart sank.

They were simply dogs, she reminded herself, and her irrational fear of them was just that. She had never been given cause to be wary of them in the past, and these two wouldn’t hurt her now, they were obviously just doing their job. It was, however, the last thing she needed today; she was nervous enough as it was. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her anxiety and remember that first-day nerves were perfectly normal. What had happened in the past was in the past, and no one would know about it here. This was a new beginning – she had got the job on merit and all she needed to do now was be poised and professional, just like she had been at her interview. She placed her hand on the horn, and pushed hard, flinching at the raucous note that rang out.

After about twenty seconds the front door of the house opened and a dark-haired man appeared. He looked around him and stuck two fingers in his mouth, giving a sharp whistle, which had the dogs running to his side. He scowled in her direction and strode across the yard where he stood just inside the gate, his hands on his hips.

Madeline stared at him through the windscreen. She had hoped he might come through the gate and greet her, but now that it was obvious he wasn’t going to, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. The lack of movement was becoming uncomfortable, and now, far from feeling like she was in control, she began to feel very foolish indeed. To her relief the man finally moved forward and unlatched the gate, giving the dogs a firm command to stay where they were. This was her cue to turn on the charm. She climbed out of the car, making sure her long legs were in full view. She stood and beamed a smile.

‘I’m looking for Seth Thomas,’ she said, her eyes flicking to the dogs. ‘My name’s Madeline Porter. I have an appointment for two p.m.’

The man checked his watch, frowning. ‘Well, I’m Seth Thomas, but whoever you are, you’re late.’

‘Yes, I know, sorry. I couldn’t find you. There’s no signage, is there?’ The dogs were hovering, waiting for any signal to move forward. She held both hands at waist height. ‘In fact, that probably ought to be one of the first things we remedy. Easy enough to resolve; I think the hedge just needs trimming back a bit, although maybe a bigger sign would work better…’ She trailed off. ‘Sorry,’ she said again. ‘I’m getting ahead of myself. I have an appointment?’

Seth looked her up and down. ‘Do you now,’ he said. ‘Only I don’t recall ever making an appointment with you.’

‘No, it was Natalie that confirmed today’s arrangements. You were copied into the email, I believe.’

His mouth set in a hard line. ‘Ah, well, I make a point of never reading her emails, so that might explain it.’

He stood back to let her pass through the gate in front of him.

She hesitated, wishing he would go first.

‘Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dogs?’

‘I’m not afraid of them. I just don’t appreciate them running wild and leaping up at me.’

Seth looked at the two dogs which stood placidly by the gate, and then back up at her, raising his eyebrows.

She ignored his unspoken taunt.

‘I suppose you’d better come in the house,’ he said, waving his hand to indicate that she should move forward, ‘that is, as long as you’re not afraid of the chickens as well?’

Seth’s hands were back on his hips as he regarded her with an amused smile.

She whirled around to face him, a strand of her make-do hairstyle coming free and bouncing around her cheek. She tucked it angrily behind her ear.

‘I bet you think that’s funny, don’t you?’ she said. ‘Well, excuse me, but your dogs were completely out of control. You might want to think about that for the future. Not everyone is comfortable around rabid dogs.’

He dipped his head slightly. ‘Point taken,’ he said. ‘Although they are very good at keeping out unwanted visitors.’ He gave a tight smile, eyes flicking to her hair. ‘And you might want to think about laying off the horn in future, it only winds them up.’

Madeline’s cheeks burned all the way to the front door as she hastily tried to refasten her hair.

A few minutes later she was seated at a well-scrubbed kitchen table watching Seth’s back as he busied himself with the kettle. The door was firmly closed and the two dogs banished to another part of the house, but she could still hear them scuffling outside, paws scratching against the wood every now and then.

‘Actually, I’ll just have a mineral water please,’ she said. She saw his movements stop, his back stiffen slightly and then he reached up above him to a cupboard, took down a glass and crossed to the sink.

‘Tap water,’ he said, placing the glass in front of her. ‘Although strictly speaking it is mineral water seeing as our water comes from a bore hole.’

Madeline said nothing. She hadn’t the faintest idea what a bore hole was, but it didn’t sound good. She picked up her drink, tentatively taking a sip and expecting it to be warm and disgusting. To her surprise, it was deliciously cool and almost sweet.

The kettle was taking an age to boil, and Seth stood with his back to her the whole time, neither particularly tall or broad, and clad in a tatty red jumper with a frayed hem, and a hole just shy of his right armpit. She sipped her water, and waited. She fidgeted, grew hot, crossed and uncrossed her legs and still there was no sign of Seth’s tea nearing completion.

Eventually, Seth cleared his throat and placed a mug on the opposite side of the table to her. Then, instead of sitting down, and to her surprise, he crossed to the door.

‘Right, let’s get this over and done with,’ he said. ‘Time for a proper introduction.’

With that, he flung the door wide open. There was a sudden, clattering skirmish as eight legs sought purchase on the tiled floor and the two dogs charged the room.

‘They just want to say hello,’ added Seth, ‘which is entirely reasonable under the circumstances. You’ll be sharing the house with them, so you might as well start as you mean to go on.’

Before she could protest, a large head pushed onto her lap, tongue lolling, spittle smearing the pristine fabric of her dress. She raised her hands as if being held at gunpoint.

Seth dropped to his haunches beside her, placing one hand on the dog’s head and ruffling it affectionately, pushing the snuffling nose even further onto her lap.

‘This here is Bonnie, who’s a total darling, and will stand any amount of petting, won’t you sweetheart?’ He tousled the fur even harder.

Petting?

Seth reached out a hand. ‘And this here is Bonnie’s brother, Clyde, who is a little more wary to start with but guaranteed to melt your heart eventually. He’s just a little shy.’

As if on cue, Clyde fell into his side, lolling up against Seth in ecstasy, his head rolling back as he tried to lick Seth’s hand. Madeline all but shuddered. She had no intention of having anyone or anything melt her heart, least of all some mangy dog. She stared at Seth’s jumper which was now covered in little white strands of hair. No thank you very much.

‘Go on,’ urged Seth. ‘Just stroke them, they’ll leave you alone if you do.’

Gingerly, she placed a hand on top of Bonnie’s head, keeping a watchful eye on Clyde as she did so. The dog’s blue eyes were distinctly wild looking.

After a moment or two, Seth straightened, rising easily to his feet.

‘Come on now dogs, away.’

He moved back into the hallway, and opened the door onto the yard. Both animals leapt up and rushed outside.

‘See?’ he said, coming back into the kitchen.

Madeline, who didn’t, simply stared at him. She cleared her throat.

‘Perhaps we should make a start,’ she said stiffly, dabbing away at the embarrassing wet patch on her skirt with a hanky from her bag.

Seth took his seat, finally, leaning back and watching her silently for a moment. She fidgeted uneasily under his gaze, suddenly aware of how badly this was going. His hand rose and slowly stroked the rough stubble of his chin.

‘A start on what, exactly?’ he said, at last.

Madeline swallowed, ripples of anxiety beginning to thread through her stomach.

‘Were you kidding before, or did you really not read Natalie’s email?’

‘No, I didn’t. I did, however, read her previous emails where I was informed at great length of my shortcomings, and told I’d left them with no choice but to enlist an expert to help me.’ He encased the word ‘expert’ in speech marks with his fingers. ‘At that point, forgive me, but I rather lost interest. I knew someone would be coming, but to be honest I hadn’t expected you quite so soon.’

His attitude was beginning to grate on her.

‘Listen, all I know is that I was to arrive today, at two o’clock, and to ask for you. I’ve just driven halfway across the country and—’

‘This is not quite what you were expecting?’ he said. ‘No, I don’t suppose it is.’

She ignored the sarcasm in his voice. ‘Are you the caretaker?’ she asked, giving his appearance another appraisal while trying to maintain eye contact.

His head shot up. ‘Is that what she told you?’ He muttered something else under his breath which she didn’t catch. This was getting them nowhere.

‘Mr Thomas,’ she said firmly. ‘My interview in London was quite straightforward. I have years of experience working for two top London agencies, as a consequence of which I was deemed to be the most suitable candidate from six others and subsequently offered the post of Development and Marketing Executive for Joy’s Acre. After the recruitment formalities were concluded, I received my contract together with instructions to ask for you on my arrival. I gather you’re to show me round the estate and help me move into my accommodation. I start work tomorrow, Mr Thomas, I’m not sure what’s unclear about any of that.’

Seth turned his head away, but not before Madeline had seen a look of abject fury pass across his face. His frustration vented in a short hiss of anger, but then, without warning, he sat up straight and finished his tea in three gulps.

‘No, you’re right, Miss Porter, that’s all perfectly clear. When you’re ready I’ll show you round. Excuse me for just a second, won’t you?’

He sprang up from his chair and reached the kitchen door with one stride.

‘Do finish your drink, though, I won’t be long.’

With that, he left.

She looked around her, feeling a little more in control at last; it finally felt as if she was getting somewhere. It wasn’t her fault that he was so disorganised he hadn’t even been expecting her. She was beginning to understand just why the recruitment process had been conducted in London. Whoever Seth was, he was clearly part of the problem she had been brought in to remedy.

At first glance, the kitchen wasn’t to her taste – far too lived-in, and with a nod to that hideous shabby chic that was all the rage in the countryside at the moment. But she could see one or two quality pieces dotted around and hidden behind all the farmhouse clutter. Not to mention a state-of-the-art coffee maker in one corner. She got up and crossed to the window, which faced out across the courtyard over which she had just walked. It reminded her of an old painting, sepia-toned, and dusty – a tired rural idyll from a bygone age.

She craned her neck to try to see past the end of the building. In front of her lay only the yard and the area where the cars were parked. Beyond this was the lane she had manoeuvred up, with its impression of fields stretching to her left. By her reckoning, she should be somewhere close to the top of the hill, so presumably there must be a view from the other side of the house.

Seth had completely disappeared, so there must be a path around the side of the house, and presumably this was where the estate complex lay; she couldn’t see where it could be otherwise. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of shattering glass.

A minute or so later she heard the front door open again, and Seth’s head appeared around the doorway.

‘Ready?’ he enquired. Again, that slightly sarcastic smile. Pasted on for the occasion. She gave a nod and lifted her glass, quickly swallowing the remaining water, and worried about what was in store.

She hadn’t noticed it on her arrival, but recessed back from the main house were two outbuildings, a wide archway between them providing passage to the rear. Directly behind one of the outbuildings was an ancient greenhouse, leaning up against its warm-coloured brick walls. On the floor were three sheets of glass from the roof, smashed into huge jagged shards. She paused behind Seth, uncertain whether to stop him and point it out or not.

He seemed to sense her lagging behind and turned back. ‘All I did was open the window,’ he said, shrugging.

She stared inside the building, at the rows of seedlings on a table at the far side. Plants which presumably would benefit from a little ventilation alongside the warmth of the spring sunshine.

‘You weren’t inside?’

He stopped for a moment and looked at her as if she was mad.

‘I wouldn’t be talking to you now if I was. No need to, thanks to our friends the Victorians. Look, I’ll show you.’

Doubling back, he rested his hand on a large handle attached to a wheel on the outer edge of the greenhouse, just above her head. It was painted dark green, generations of paint flaking off to reveal alternate colours beneath.

‘See, the drive shaft runs the whole length of the greenhouse. When you turn the wheel the whole shaft turns too, winding the mechanism that opens each window. You’ve no need to open them all by hand, and you can do it all from outside. Canny, don’t you think?’

Madeline looked at the rusting metal.

‘Except it’s broken the glass.’

Seth looked at his feet. ‘Well, strictly speaking it didn’t. The glass slipped out of the frame, that’s all. It needs repairing in any case. All of this.’ He shrugged again, and waved a hand at the dilapidated structure. ‘Come on.’

She looked first at the greenhouse and then back at Seth, the question she most wanted to ask staying safely in her head. After all, she had no proof that the glass had slipped due to anything other than weak joints and gravity, though the large brick which sat squarely in the middle of the floor told a slightly different story.

Once past the outbuildings, the garden opened up in front of them and as Madeline walked toward it she felt her heart begin to beat a little faster. Surely this was where the complex lay? Her professional enthusiasm tingled in the small tug of a smile at the corners of her mouth.

Twenty seconds later both her smile and any trace of professionalism left her as she stared open-mouthed at the scene in front of her.

Her gaze swept from left to right and back again, taking in the full length of the gardens on either side, which looked surprisingly neat and well ordered. They were the only things that were. On one side was a small thatched cottage, set in an overgrown tangle of weeds and bushes. Lying on the front path was a pile of rusted metal that might have once been garden railings, and even from this distance it was clear to see that the roof was in as sorry a state as the windows and the front door, which sagged against its hinges.

Across to the left lay three more cottages, slightly larger than the first, and all thatched, but with whitewashed walls instead of exposed brick. However, so much of the paint had already peeled off that Madeline couldn’t tell whether it had been purposefully removed in the name of restoration, or whether it had simply fallen away. An outbuilding of some sort stood forlornly behind them. The whole site had an air of neglect and if the condition of the outside of the cottages was anything to go by, then Madeline dreaded to think what she might find on the inside…

‘It’s what you would probably call work in progress,’ said Seth, indicating the first cottage.

‘Are they even habitable?’ she hissed.

‘Well, that depends,’ replied Seth. ‘For me, yes. For you? Probably not so much.’ He really didn’t need to say any more. ‘Do you want to go on, or have you seen enough?’ he said.

She wasn’t sure if he said it to be unkind or not, but at that moment it felt like the final straw.

‘Yes, I want to go on,’ she demanded. ‘At least show me the ones that have already been completed.’

Seth stared at her, an uncomfortable silence growing as he said nothing; he simply stood rooted to the spot.

‘Is this it?’ She rounded on him furiously. ‘Are you honestly telling me that four semi-derelict cottages and an old ramshackle barn are the sum total of what Joy’s Acre has to offer? I was told there would be a range of luxury holiday accommodation as well as c. . .