The Pleasures of Spring by Evie Hunter Page A

December sale in Tattersalls.’
    ‘How much?’ Andy was almost afraid to ask.
    ‘Seven two for one. The other was a bargain at three thousand.’
    ‘Euros?’ Andy asked hopefully.
    ‘Pounds. And that was on top of the ones he bought last October.’
    He didn’t have to hear the resignation in Tom’s voice toknow that his dad’s passion for horses was bleeding the estate dry.
    ‘How is the rest of the place?’
    ‘If you’re talking about the deer farming …’
    Andy sighed. The ‘D’ word … It was another of his brother’s ‘agricultural experiments’. Robert had been great for ideas, but without his drive and enthusiasm they had been allowed to go wild.
    ‘The Devlins are angry about the damage to their forestry plantations. A few bucks can strip bark from a tree quicker than a machine. And as for trying to fence them in …’
    Tom tut-tutted his disapproval. ‘I could have a team mending fences day and night and I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the beggars. Don’t get me wrong. Your father has a good eye for the horses, but it could be a couple of years before he sees a return and at his age, it’s tough. It’s not like the old days. Robert might not have been the best farmer, but he was here.’
    He left the rest of the words unsaid, but Andy felt the rebuke as sharply as a slap. It was a young man’s game and his parents were getting on. The estate needed someone to breathe new life into it, or a new owner.
    Disheartened, he returned to the house to inspect it.
    Christ, he hadn’t realized it was this bad. His was the best room in the house but it wasn’t the only one with a damaged ceiling. The place was a money pit. Who the hell would want it? And even if they did, could he part with a house that had been in the family for two hundred years?
    He was used to travelling light and he hadn’t contemplated settling down. What the house needed was a newMcTavish generation, an owner who would bring a wife and a family to revitalize the place. He wasn’t ready for either.
    Idly, he flicked on his phone and without thinking he clicked on the Yahoo icon, but Roz was offline. He stared at the phone in his hand with a vague sense of disappointment. He was losing it.

7
    
     The message flashed back and Andy laughed.
    He glanced at his mother who was dozing in the chair near the fire. He could do with some shut eye himself. Maybe he should take this upstairs.
    ‘Night, Mum,’ he called.
    ‘Good night.’ Poppy sounded half asleep.
    Andy took the steps two at a time and opened the door to his room. The carved four-poster bed should have been a chick-magnet, but he couldn’t ever imagine bringing someone here. But if it was a certain feisty redhead, he might be tempted to break his rule about bringing women home.
     he asked.
    
     he typed.
    
    Andy laughed. He lay down on the bed and tapped another message into his phone.
    The message hung in cyberspace for several seconds and he wondered if he had gone too far.
    
     He waited.
    
    Andy sat up as a vision popped into his head of Roz lying beside him on the dark red coverlet wearing nothing but a scrap of silk, her long red hair on his pillow. He would lick every inch of her smooth, pale skin.
     he asked hopefully.
     she snapped back.
    
    No response came and as he was about to give up another message arrived.
    Andy hit the accept icon and downloaded the picture.
    The silk panties were folded neatly in the centre of a narrow single bed covered with a white duvet cover. There was nothing