A House to Mend a Broken Heart Read online

  A HOUSE TO MEND A BROKEN HEART

  Alison Sherlock

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  About this Book

  About the Author

  Table of Contents

  www.ariafiction.com

  About A House to Mend a Broken Heart

  Willow Tree Hall has seen much better days and has been the proud ancestral home of the Earl and Countess of Cranley for centuries.

  With no qualifications and escaping her past Annie Rogers takes the job as housekeeper to widowed Arthur, the charming current Earl of Cranley. After a bad fall puts Arthur in hospital, it’s up to a reluctant heir apparent Sam Harris, to lend a helping hand and try to find a sustainable future for the Estate.

  With the house requiring a full renovation Annie suddenly finds herself completely out of her depth with a team of dodgy builders and Sam watching critically from the side-lines.

  With Sam running from his past and Annie hiding from hers, just maybe together they can bring Willow Tree Hall back to life.

  The start of a beautiful new series focusing on the lives and loves, trial and tribulations of all those who live and work at Willow Tree Hall.

  Contents

  Welcome Page

  About A House to Mend a Broken Heart

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Acknowledgements

  About Alison Sherlock

  Become an Aria Addict

  Copyright

  This book is dedicated in loving memory

  to my wonderful Dad, Ray Sherlock,

  who taught me how important family are to each other.

  Chapter 1

  Oh God. She had killed her boss with her complete and utter incompetence.

  Annie Rogers took a deep breath. Keep calm, she told herself, sinking down onto the end of a long row of grey plastic chairs that lined one side of the corridor.

  Almost killed, she reminded herself. She had to stop over-reacting. Arthur Harris, the Earl of Cranley, wasn’t dead. That much she knew. But there were an awful lot of hospital staff dashing in and out of the room in the Accident and Emergency department where he was being assessed and nobody was telling her anything else.

  She hugged her arms close and willed Arthur, or Lord Cranley to give him his official title, a full and speedy recovery with every fibre in her being.

  Perhaps she shouldn’t care so much. She had only been his housekeeper for ten months. She wasn’t even a member of his own family. His closest relative, his grandson Will, was on his way to the hospital right at that moment. But to Annie, Arthur was the closest thing to family she had known in a very long time. She cared greatly about the seventy-five-year-old man whom she had enjoyed taking care of. He, in turn, had been warm and loving towards her. So much so that he had become her surrogate grandfather, as opposed to just the Lord of the stately home where she worked.

  Which made it even worse that it had been her fault that he had slipped on the wet puddle halfway up the grand staircase back at Willow Tree Hall.

  It was the same puddle that gathered every time it rained due to the leaking roof. The same leak that she should have remembered to place a bucket underneath before the Earl came downstairs for his breakfast. And it had rained so heavily overnight.

  But there had been a knock on the back door first thing that morning from the chatty postman with a delivery. By the time he had finished telling her about the latest village gossip, the ancient Aga in the kitchen had wheezed to a halt. It had taken her ages to get it going once more and she was behind in laying out the table in the dining room for breakfast.

  It had only been when she heard Arthur’s terrible cry from the entrance hall that she remembered the puddle. But it had been too late.

  She would never forget the sight of him lying at the bottom of the stairs. Never forgive herself for his accident. As usual, it was all her own fault. Everyone was right. She was completely and utterly useless.

  She bit her bottom lip to suppress the loud sobs that threatened to spill out into the corridor.

  ‘Annie? Is that you?’

  She looked up to see Will Harris, Arthur’s youngest grandson, rushing towards her. He looked nothing like his grandfather, not least because he was at least forty years his junior. Will was blonde and took after his grandmother, the late Countess. His handsome looks held him in good stead as the thirty-year-old playboy that she had seen out and about in the newspapers with so many different women. She had met Will only a couple of times but he had always been flirtatious and fun.

  It was a stark contrast to the serious man that stood in front of her now. ‘How is he?’ he asked, full of concern.

  Annie stood up, blinking away the tears as they filled her eyes. ‘They won’t tell me anything. I’m not family.’

  ‘For God’s sake,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘You’re closer to him than I am.’

  ‘It’s all my fault,’ she began to say but the tears began to roll down her cheeks and she couldn’t speak anymore.

  ‘Rubbish,’ replied Will, pulling her towards him.

  She knew she should be more professional. This was the Earl’s grandson and she barely knew him. But she was so upset that she let herself cry softly against his T-shirt.

  In the short time that she had worked and lived there, Willow Tree Hall had quickly become her whole life. She had no real family or friends outside of its grounds. Nobody that cared about her.

  So she cried for lovely Arthur who had let her make so many mistakes since she had arrived in January and had never once complained. The man who would never know how grateful she was to him for giving her a stable home environment after so many years of uncertainty. The one man who had let her feel as if she finally belonged somewhere in the world.

  She cried most of all at the guilt buried deep inside. It was her lies that had led this wonderful gentleman to be hurt so badly. That she had been lying about herself ever since she had first arrived at Willow Tree Hall all those months ago.

  The truth was that she wasn’t even a housekeeper.

  *

  Sam Harris strode through the corridors of the Accident and Emergency department, loosening the tie around his neck as he went.

  He hated wearing a suit. It had always felt so restrictive to him. The irony was that he had ended up wearing one nearly every day this past year or so.

  In hindsight, he wished he had changed outfits on the overnight flight back to London Heathrow. But after an endless business meeting and dinner in Los Angeles, he had worked through the entire flight, thanks to the long list of paperwork that needed attention.

  So when he had picked up the frantic voicemail from Will upon landing, he was already grumpy, tired and desperate to change out of the same suit that he had been wearing for nearly twenty-four hours. But inste
ad he had rushed to the hospital, frantic with worry about his grandad.

  And guilt too, he was reluctant to admit.

  He finally spotted his brother at the end of the corridor. Will had in his arms, as usual, a beautiful woman. Although this one appeared to be crying, which was a bit strange. Equally odd was her choice of casual clothes of jeans and a baggy T-shirt. Will normally favoured the type of girlfriend who was dressed in designer outfits and high heels.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, by way of greeting when he was near.

  Will looked up quickly over the woman’s shoulder and sighed with visible relief. ‘Thank God you’re here. The prodigal grandson finally returns. We haven’t found out anything so far.’

  We? Was it possible that his younger brother, the famous playboy, was actually in a serious relationship? Sam shook away the thought. He didn’t have time to dwell on that at the moment. Instead, he walked past the couple and glanced into the room behind them. He was shocked to barely recognise the man lying in the hospital bed. Surely that elderly-looking man wasn’t his grandfather? He couldn’t have aged that much in, what was it, not even a year since he had last seen him? His grandad was a strong, tough man. Not the pale and frail pensioner before him, looking so small and weak. How old would he be now? Mid-seventies?

  The fact that the generation of family between them was missing was now even more marked by their difference in ages. He felt the absence of his parents at that moment more keenly than ever.

  Will had found a consultant to update them on their grandfather’s condition and brought him over.

  ‘He’s broken his femur,’ said the doctor, who was holding the results of the X-ray.

  Sam blinked. ‘His what?’ He was so ragged from jetlag that he could barely form a coherent thought.

  ‘It’s the main upper bone of the leg,’ the doctor told him. ‘It’s probably going to need to be pinned. We won’t know how many we’ll have to insert until we get him down to the operating theatre. He’s quite beaten up from his fall, but thankfully there are no other breaks. The bruising’s going to take some time to heal. The only other concern was that your grandfather has had a small stroke. We’re waiting on tests to see where we stand with that.’

  Will sagged at the words and stepped away from them.

  Sam nodded his understanding, feeling shocked and dismayed at so much bad news. He thanked the doctor before returning to his brother.

  Will had his arm around the woman once more. The sight of the stranger with the long, honey-coloured hair still crying over someone she probably barely knew irritated him.

  ‘Look, this is family business,’ he snapped, dragging a hand through his short, dark hair which felt messy and unwashed. ‘Can’t you get rid of the girlfriend for five minutes?’

  Will’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Girlfriend?’ he replied, breaking into a grin. ‘I wish! This is Annie Rogers, grandad’s housekeeper.’

  Sam stared in disbelief as the woman finally broke away to look up at him. This was the housekeeper. But she was too young surely? She could only be in her late-twenties.

  ‘What happened to Mrs Briggs?’ he said, trying not to become mesmerised by the biggest pair of green eyes he had ever seen.

  ‘Mrs Briggs?’ scoffed Will. ‘She retired months ago, bro. You haven’t met Annie before?’

  Sam shook his head. He would have remembered the peaches and cream complexion and those full pink lips.

  ‘You need to go home more often,’ said Will in a pointed tone.

  His words finally shook Sam out of his trance. Home? Willow Tree Hall wasn’t his home anymore. He had decided that many months ago. In irritation, he shrugged off his suit jacket. Although it was September, the weather was still warm outside. On top of that, he’d always found hospitals too stifling and hot.

  ‘How is he?’ asked Annie in a tremulous voice.

  Sam frowned and stared at the floor, still trying to take everything in. ‘It’s a broken leg. They’re going to operate and maybe put in a number of pins. He might have had a stroke, as well.’

  ‘Another one?’ whispered Annie, her voice filled with concern.

  Sam couldn’t stop himself turning his attention back to the stranger amongst them. ‘What do you mean? Has this happened before?’

  He watched a rosy blush cover her cheeks. ‘There was an incident in the summer,’ she stammered, ringing her hands together in a nervous gesture. ‘He had a small fall in the woods. He said he tripped over, but the local doctor thought it may have been a mini-stroke.’

  ‘And nobody told me?’ snapped Sam.

  She blanched at his harsh words, shrinking back slightly. But then he thought he saw something that looked like anger flare in her green eyes. What did she have to be cross about? She was just staff. This was none of her business.

  Will took a step forward. ‘I’m sure if you had bothered to visit our grandfather any time since last Christmas then you would probably have been told about this.’ Sam opened his mouth to reply but Will held up his hand. ‘Oh, I know,’ he carried on. ‘Your high-flying career as manager to one of the most famous singers on the planet takes up all of your time. And I’m just as much to blame as I spend most of my life in the Alps these days.

  Sam knew that his brother was right. Neither of them had been around for a long time. Too long. The guilt was eating away inside him that it had taken something so serious to finally bring them all back together.

  In the awkward silence that followed, Annie excused herself and moved towards the room where Arthur was being treated.

  ‘Has anyone rung Aunt Rose to update her?’ asked Sam.

  Will drew out his phone. ‘I’ll do it. Beryl’s looking after her back at the Hall.’

  Sam nodded, relieved that someone was on hand to take care of their elderly Great Aunt, the glamorous Rose who had always insisted on being referred to as only an Aunt. ‘Great-Aunt sounds so ageing, darlings,’ she had told them many years previously. Aunt Rose had moved into Willow Tree Hall a few years previously and had obviously been very upset at her brother’s accident. After all, it had only been the two of them living there and they had grown closer than ever.

  At least he knew Beryl would be a comfort to their Aunt. As their cook, she had looked after the family since before he was born, although he seemed to recall that she too had retired.

  But this new housekeeper unsettled him. He glanced over at Annie, watching her walk away into the small room, before turning to face his brother. ‘What do you know about her?’ he asked, pulling off his tie and balling it in the palm of his hand.

  Will followed his gaze and broke into a knowing smile. ‘Apart from a great pair of legs and those incredible eyes, you mean?’

  ‘Please tell me that you haven’t…’ began Sam in despair.

  ‘No,’ said Will, his grin growing wider. ‘And don’t think it’s from a lack of trying either. Unfortunately she seems immune to my charms.’

  ‘Well, that’s a first.’ Sam frowned, shoving the tie in his trouser pocket. ‘Can we trust her?’

  His brother shrugged his shoulders. ‘Grandad trusts her.’

  ‘Grandad is an old man.’

  ‘Good of you to remember,’ Will said, his voice laced with sarcasm. ‘And as you’re the Heir Apparent for the Earldom, maybe you should take a closer interest. Isn’t it time that you visited the stately pile?’

  A fleeting image of Christmas tree lights twinkling behind his grandad as they argued came and went in his mind.

  Sam sighed. ‘You know how I feel about going there. I don’t want to take over the running of the place,’ he said. ‘I don’t want anything to do with it.’

  ‘Tough.’ Will laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s your inheritance, big brother. And you’re welcome to it.’

  Sam turned away with a grimace. He had a life. A career. He didn’t have time for that.

  ‘I get it,’ he heard Will say. ‘I really do. I know the whole Earl of Cranley thing is a big deal for
you. I wouldn’t want it either. But Grandad’s obviously much frailer than we both thought and we owe him. He and Grandma took us in when we lost Mum and Dad. They gave us a home, remember?’

  But it wasn’t just a home, thought Sam. It was Willow Tree Hall, a stately home with all the history and responsibility that came with it. As well as the large house, there were tenants, land and all the other duties of a large estate to take care of.

  His Grandad had never stopped reminding him that it would all be his one day. It was a responsibility that he had never wanted, but without his father around, the line of inheritance had become worryingly short. The thought of being solely accountable for the whole estate panicked him. The subject had caused many arguments over the years between him and his grandad but the final row, the previous winter, had been the biggest. And they hadn’t talked since that day.

  Sam had always regretted the words that he had spoken when they had last met. But he just couldn’t seem to remind his grandfather that the Earldom would have passed to his father if his parents hadn’t died so young. He just didn’t feel the same way about Willow Tree Hall. Even if his parents had survived, he would still have never wanted that burden.

  Of course, the chances were that his elderly grandfather would never be able to stay in a massive place like that again anyway. Surely it wasn’t safe for him and Aunt Rose to live there anymore with their various health problems? If his grandfather was in his early seventies at the very least, his younger sister had to be in her late sixties by now. It was hardly a home suited to two ageing pensioners. Surely his grandad could continue to be the Earl away from Willow Tree Hall. He didn’t need to give up his title, just the pressure and stress of running a large estate.

  Perhaps it was time for them all to move on. As he had tried to do so a year ago.

  As Will talked on the phone to their aunt to update her, Sam took a few tentative steps towards the doorway, trying to find the right words to begin the conversation between them, but he stopped short outside the room. Annie was sitting next to his grandfather, talking softly to him.