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“Nothing,” Eleanor said.

“No, go on, what?”

Eleanor shrugged. “I was just thinking about the new facing for the library shelves, whether they should be stained darker or whether we can get away with a lighter stain that will develop a patina as it gets older.”

For some reason, Danni’s stomach dropped into her boots.

The house.

Right.

That was what all this was about for Eleanor. Not about them getting along. Not about a brush of hands. Not about laughing or chatting or even developing a feeling that maybe, just maybe, they were becoming friends.

This was a business deal, a proposition, a bargain.

This was about a house.

Eleanor’s house.

Danni swallowed down something that tasted a bit like disappointment. She wiped her forehead with her arm and stretched out her back. “Yeah, you’ll have to get that sorted. Don’t want a library with mis-matched shelves now, do you?”

Eleanor rolled her eyes, and Danni turned away, suddenly feeling very tired. She wasn’t supposed to forget what this was all about, that it was about a farm and a house and not about a farmer and a lady.

But for a moment there, she almost had.

Chapter Twelve

Eleanor had never been so busy in her life. Running the estate had kept her out of trouble, attending benefits and fundraisers and making sure everyone knew what was to be done. Renovating the estate, on the other hand, was proving far more work, overseeing everything every day, making sure no mistakes were made.

And it was becoming increasingly inconvenient.

She barely saw Danni all week, which, in theory, really should have been a relief. Instead, for reasons Eleanor really couldn’t for the life of her discern, it was irritating. Every morning, she woke up to find the farmer already gone. Every evening, when she returned from a long day of overseeing the renovations, Danni was already asleep on the couch in the kitchen, or out somewhere. Presumably doing something ridiculous and reckless.

Not that it should matter. Not that it did matter. It wasn’t as if they were real spouses who needed to check in with each other. It was almost like living alone, and Eleanor knew that she should appreciate that. Still, though, she found it annoying that their paths barely crossed. After all, the reason she had her house at all was due to Danni. And the reason Danni had a farm to run was because of her. The least they could do was have a civil conversation now and again.

And then Saturday arrived, rather sooner than Eleanor hadplanned on it coming. So soon that she was very nearly late getting dressed and got downstairs just in time to see Danni picking up the truck keys.

“We’ll take—” Eleanor began.

“No. We’ll take the Land Rover,” said Danni. “I’m tired of being chauffeured around. You’re the princess here, not me.”

“Not a princess,” Eleanor said as she followed Danni out of the house.

The mistake was clear from the beginning. The Land Rover smelled of hay, and there was a very suspicious-looking stain on the passenger seat that forced Eleanor to sit faintly lop-sided, so that every time Danni took a turn, her stomach lurched in protest.

“I could have driven, you know,” Eleanor muttered, gripping the door handle and hoping that it didn’t come off in her hand.

“I know. And I told you. I’m not a princess. I don’t need a chauffeur. Nor do I want one. Anyway, that sports car of yours is a death trap, we’re far better off and safer in this.” Danni patted the steering wheel affectionately.

“Mmm,” groaned Eleanor as Danni took another turn.

“Relax, Princess,” Danni said cheerfully. “I’ve only crashed into one thing this year, and that, technically, was your fault.”

“It was not,” Eleanor said, before realizing that she was being goaded. She let out an exasperated sigh and turned to stare resolutely out of the window.

“YOU ARE GOING to behave yourself,” Eleanor said, more as an instruction than a question.

“I’ll be fine,” said Danni. “Besides, your gran loves me.”