“He wanted to kill that old guy for what he said, Viola. I didn’t misunderstand his reaction and I’m not making it bigger than it was. He wanted to punch that guy’s lights out.” Okay, so I was meddling but I wasn’t lying.

She shook her head in complete confusion. “Why?”

I grinned at her. “You really can’t guess.”

Viola guffawed. “You think Lucas likes me? Likes likes me?”

“Yes,” Caro answered for me. “My goodness, Vi, watching you two at Market Day . . . well, it certainly looked like foreplay to me.”

Both Viola and I stared in astonishment at Caro, with a surge of laughter bubbling out of me as Viola’s tawny cheeks took on a rosy hue. “Caro!” she cried, uncharacteristically embarrassed.

Caro’s own cheeks flushed red, but she grinned as she shrugged. “I only speak the truth.”

Then I lost it, laughing so hard I was practically cackling.

“Oh, oh, you’re one to laugh, Evie Starling,” Viola said loudly, cutting through my laughter. “Every encounter you have with Roane is like foreplay.”

“Vi, that’s my cousin,” Caro groaned.

My laughter died as I mock glared at Viola. “Roane and I are just friends.”

“Oh really?” Viola looked unconvinced.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “We’re as much friends as you and Lucas are not.”

Her spine stiffened. Getting my point, she immediately turned to Caro with an abrupt subject change. “What are you going to do about Tony then?”

Caro blinked rapidly, clearly discombobulated by the swift new direction of our conversation. “Well . . . I’m not sure.”

“Do you want to work with him?”

“We don’t know that’s what he wants to talk about.”

I made a face. “It’s what he wants to talk about.”

Caro lowered her gaze, picking at invisible lint on the new pair of jeans she’d bought yesterday. Although her silk blouse with its floppy bow at the neck was still somewhat conservative, it was sleeveless and she’d paired the top with jeans and red pumps. She wore her lovely hair down. Just that simple outfit and hairstyle change had transformed Caro, and she now appeared younger than her twenty-two years.

“I have a meeting with my new financial adviser this week. I’ll know more then.”

“Know more then . . . ?” I mused. “You have something in mind that you want to do?”

“There’s this building in Alnwick that’s been up for sale for ages . . . it’s in the perfect location for a small bakery.”

Excitement for her rushed through me. “Caro, that would be amazing.”

“Starting my own business will be difficult. I read that sixty percent of all new businesses in the UK fail in their first year. But . . . I’d like to try.”

“Caro Robson, Lady Boss.” Viola grinned at her. “I can absolutely see it.”

“Robson?” I queried.