The tears she’d pushed back sprang to her eyes. She pulled her hand from his and swung away, putting distance between them as she fought back her emotions and tried to find the strength to follow his lead. She stopped, her back to Douglas and pressed the fingers of both of her hands to her mouth.
Douglas didn’t follow her and she used the moment of semi-privacy to battle for control.
“You know, I don’t really miss him,” Gavin said once when they were talking about their father. “Whenever we had to go to his house for the weekend, I always couldn’t wait to get home to Mom.”
Tamsin had kissed the top of her husband’s head.
“Yeah, Gav,” Julia had agreed quietly, “I know.”
“I was glad when he stopped coming to pick us up for visits,” Gavin had muttered. “It was a relief.”
Then Gavin looked up at them and laughed off the sad thoughts he was expressing aloud and the sadder ones that underlay them. Julia never knew if it was actually a relief or if her brother was trying to convince himself. Had he wished he’d had a father? Had he wished he’d not grown up in a house full of women? Had he needed some male guidance?
She’d never asked and now she’d never know. What she did know was that Gavin worked every moment of every day to be a good father to his children, a shining example and, furthermore, an excellent, attentive, loving husband to his wife.
For Julia’s part, she’d always wanted a Daddy, someone to make her feel like a princess just as she’d witnessed her own father treated his other two daughters. She’d wanted that kind of love and devotion, to be the beautiful darling, the girl who could do no wrong in her Daddy’s eyes. And she never gave up hoping for that, hoping that one day he’d be that kind of Dad. And then came the day he gave her the cheap cardboard box filled with cheaper earrings after she had struggled her way through four years of university, working as a tutor, and left with a staggering amount of student loans which he, not once, offered to assist her with. That day, she had given up hope.
She thought about those earrings, which she kept until just over a month ago, finding them when she packed up her house. Before she moved to England she had thrown them in the trash.
Douglas was right, he had never been her father.
She straightened her shoulders and drew air into her nostrils, her head tilting back with the effort. She released it from her mouth and turned to Douglas.
Not one tear had been shed.
“I’m ready,” she told him, her voice, surprising her, was strong.
He assessed her as she walked toward him but when she went to pass him, he took her hand. They walked together, hand in hand, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Even though she knew it was weak, knew she shouldn’t allow it, she needed his hand in hers. She might not have made it across the room without it.
When he stopped to open the door, he turned to her.
“Well done,” he whispered, the indifferent expression gone from his eyes and now clear, undiluted admiration was shining in them.
She felt every bone in her body turn to jelly and it was an immense effort of will simply to stay standing.
She should have nodded casually as if there was no question she could master the situation. But instead the corners of her lips tilted up ever-so-slightly at the look in his eyes that made her stomach clench, not with desire but with pride.
She dipped her head, slightly flustered, and whispered, “Thank you.”
She felt Douglas’s hand squeeze hers then he opened the door.
* * * * *
Five hours later, with a huge dose of Charlie’s experienced flair, coupled with Julia’s determined grace, a bit of Sam’s hilarious energy and even shades of Monique’s cultured charm, Thanksgiving Day did not become the disaster for which it seemed to be destined.
The children were hesitantly accepting of their grandfather, although both Elizabeth and William seemed far more reluctant than Ruby, undoubtedly they’d heard their parents talk. They looked constantly at Julia and Douglas. Julia would give them reassuring smiles; Douglas took Julia’s lead (but not so far as to smile, just communicating non-verbally that all was well).
Trevor acted the benevolent grandfather but seemed to be more interested in dancing attendance upon Monique.
Now, the children in bed, Douglas felt the need for pretence was gone.
He had known his mother was up to something and he resolved to deal with her later. He knew exactly what he intended to do to punish her for today’s antics. He would not, however, do it in front of guests.
As for Trevor Fairfax, that matter would need to be dealt with immediately.
Julia’s words about Gavin needing to smash open his piggy bank so her family could have the bare necessities made his gut clench. And the new knowledge that the proud, easy-going man he knew as his brother-in-law, who showered steady devotion on his family, at one time stood alone on a stage without a parent to support him, made him understand with a clarity he never had before why Tamsin had fallen so deeply in love with her husband. Patricia Fairfax was clearly a remarkable woman to make up for so much and nurture her family the way she did.
Douglas watched Julia and marvelled at her strength of will to control her emotions, to sit in a room and have dinner with her errant father. Douglas found her behaviour stunning.
But now it was high time his soon-to-be wife was allowed to relax and enjoy her fucking holiday.
They were all in the formal drawing room finishing a nightcap. Julia’s father seemed happy enough, sitting and conversing and even, Douglas noted to his disgust, discreetly flirting with Monique.
For Julia’s sake, Douglas had been nursing a slow burn for five hours and he was coming to the end of his patience with it. It was her father, her issue and he had to allow her to deal with it in her way (with his guidance, of course), even though he very much wanted to eject the man the minute he realised who he was.
But it was her battle. And Julia had, after a valiant struggle, handled it quite splendidly. If she had turned to Douglas and told him to get rid of her father, he would have done so, without hesitation. But she didn’t and that too, he thought, was not only her prerogative and it was also honourable.
However, when Monique finally moved away to refresh her drink, Douglas was finished with allowing Julia to have her honourable way.
He strode over to Trevor and said under his breath in a tone that could not be ignored nor misunderstood, “I think, Dr. Fairfax, it’s time for you to leave.”
Trevor turned astonished eyes to Douglas, clearly having been lulled into relaxing in his very plush surroundings. Even though Julia said barely a dozen words to him since dinner, Monique had been expending a great deal of energy making him feel welcome.
The older man read Douglas’s face and was smart enough to nod.
Douglas wasted no time in announcing his guest’s imminent departure. Farewells were quickly and not-so-cordially exchanged (Charlotte, Oliver and Sam had correctly surmised Julia and Douglas’s mood and behaved accordingly).
Douglas and Julia, joined by Monique, walked Trevor to the front door where Carter (at Douglas’s behest) had been waiting with the Bentley for the last half an hour. When Douglas ordered Carter to the front, Carter informed him that Trevor arrived in a taxi. Where Trevor now was going, Douglas neither knew nor cared.
Monique gave him a fond good-bye, pleased that it seemed she’d gotten away with her spitefulness. Julia just stood with her arms crossed on her chest and didn’t say a word.
Douglas, tone and manner civil, shook the man’s hand and then said in a cordial voice, “Just so we understand about this evening, Dr. Fairfax, you are not to return to this house or approach Julia, the children or Patricia unless one of them expresses the desire to communicate with you.”
Unnerved by Douglas’s belying manner and words, Trevor blinked and stammered, “I… I –”
Douglas released his hand.
Monique, of course, was not at a
loss for words. “Douglas! How could you? Trevor and I have, these past weeks, formed a lovely friendship.” She turned to Trevor. “If I wish to see you, you are always welcome at Sommers –”
Douglas didn’t allow her to finish.
“If you invite him into my house without Julia’s consent, you will find yourself no longer living in it,” he stated inflexibly.
It was Monique’s turn to stammer, this time not in astonishment but in outrage and Douglas heard Julia’s surprised gasp.
Douglas ignored his mother and Julia and turned back to Trevor. “Did I make myself understood?”
Douglas didn’t wait for his answer and began to walk away, offering his arm to Julia who walked forward woodenly, her face partially in shadows, her breath shallow. She placed her hand in the crook his elbow and he tucked it firmly in his side.
Julia didn’t offer her father a good-bye.
“Sir,” Carter called, “I thought you’d like to know, a somewhat urgent call came about five minutes ago. I explained you’d ring him back.”
Douglas felt his irritation escalate. Now was exactly not the time for this. He needed to talk to Julia, he wished to see if she was all right. He certainly didn’t need to leave her alone with his mother, and then, of course, there were the children to consider
His eyes met Carter’s.
Fucking hell. He would have to have a word with Mrs. Kilpatrick.
His mind moving swiftly through the problems this new turn of events caused, he strode by Carter but said over his shoulder, “I’ll phone him immediately.”
Julia seemed oblivious to the entire exchange.
When they arrived inside the hall, leaving Monique to make her apologies or explanations to Trevor, Douglas closed the heavy door behind them.
When he finally caught sight of Julia’s face in the lights of the hall, he felt his breath catch. Her eyes were shining with gratitude. Gratitude he would have liked very much to have the time to translate into something else.
She licked her lips and came forward, placing her hand on his chest, she leaned close to him.
“Thank you,” she whispered for the second time that day and the strength of feeling underlying her tone was his undoing.
He pulled her roughly in his arms and pressed a hard kiss on her lips, catching her gasp against his mouth. His body immediately responded, beginning to tense, his hands on the soft material of her dress itching for more of her, the smell of her scent (she’d worn the one he preferred that day) surrounding him.
For his own sanity, he let her go just as abruptly as he grabbed hold of her.
She stood swaying gently, her eyes blinking at him and he settled his hands on either side of her jaw and moved in as close as he dared in an effort to retain control.
“I have to go, something important, I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he told her.
She blinked again. “Okay,” she muttered, drawing out the “O” dazedly.
He felt a smile come to his face at the bedazzled look in her eye, inordinately pleased that he could do that with one kiss.
As a reward and against his better judgement, he gave her another one, pulling her forward using gentle pressure on her face. Their bodies didn’t touch, just their lips and their tongues. He spent longer on her, used more care, teasing her, tasting her, feeling his blood stir, his already tense body tightening hungrily.
The moment he heard the sexy little moan he was getting used to, the one that came from the back of her throat that heralded the moment she would give in and move to deepen the kiss, he forced himself to let her go.
And without looking back, he walked away.
Chapter Thirteen
The Incident
Mrs. K put the finishing touches on the grocery list that included the ingredients for a bakewell tart, an apple crumble and a variety of other bits and pieces that she would have made for her own children if she and Roddy had ever decided to have any. Sommersgate House had always been their child, hers the house and her husband’s the grounds. As it turned out, there wouldn’t have been time for anyone else.
She heard her before she saw Julia come in the back split farm door to the kitchen, a way that Tamsin had sometimes used, Douglas never used and Julia nearly always used. She was wearing a pair of slate grey pants, a pale, dusky-blue blouse with feminine tucks down the front and a winter-white tailored blazer. The finishing touch was a pair of navy pumps with a big silver oval affixed to the toe and a heel that was dangerous in two ways, it was way too high and it was way too thin. Miss Julia strode in like she was wearing slippers.
“Hey Mrs. K,” she greeted with a small wave of her slim black briefcase and a bright smile.
“How was work?” Mrs. K asked and Miss Julia threw herself at a bench at the table while Mrs. K flipped the switch on the kettle.
“That place is a mess!” Julia answered with contradictory delight in her tone. “But the staff is great and dedicated and I think we can turn it around. Where’s Ruby-girl?”
“Veronika’s taken her to the petting zoo. Coffee?”
“I’d kill for some coffee,” Julia replied, a grateful smile on her face.
Mrs. K returned her smile. Mrs. K hadn’t smiled so much in a very long time, in fact, never, and she knew exactly why.
Before he left after what Miss Julia cheekily described as “The Thanksgiving Fiasco”, Lord Ashton had given the edict to all the staff that orders were now to be taken from Miss Julia. Miss Julia, he stated firmly, had the running of the house. This not only came from Lord Ashton’s lips, he’d even scrawled a note to confirm his wishes in writing. Upon seeing it, Lady Ashton’s face had turned white as a sheet, her lips thinning to invisibility. She said not a word, left the room and shortly after, left the house to go to Kensington.
For her part, Miss Julia looked rather stunned and, fighting for composure, simply said, “I figure, Mrs. K, you know what you’re doing so you probably should just get on with doing it.”
And with that, everything had changed. Mrs. K never had the full run of the house and she was having the time of her life.
Mrs. K almost felt like finding the awful woman she’d worked for most of her life and thanking her for bringing Julia’s dreadful father (Julia had, of course, confided the whole story to Mrs. K and Ronnie over coffee) back on the scene. Her actions had triggered a great deal of change, or, Mrs. K had to admit, had solidified the changes that were already taking place. Also, with Monique gone, to Mrs. K’s way of thinking, things could finally progress a lot more smoothly in another quarter if Lord Ashton would just come home.
She was a little surprised at the turn of events. Mrs. K thought that it would be Julia who had to win over Douglas but it appeared that it was happening the other way around. This made Mrs. K’s hope blossom as she knew Douglas Ashton always won, no matter what he attempted.
After Thanksgiving, Lady Ashton left first thing in the morning, Carter stuffing her and the seven Louis Vuitton cases (that Veronika methodically packed) in the Bentley. Even after all these years, Mrs. Kilpatrick didn’t mind seeing her go. That woman had never been very nice to her staff or to her children. To Mrs. K’s way of thinking, she deserved everything she got, especially for orchestrating that nasty turn with Miss Julia and Gavin’s father.
Charlotte, Sam and Julia went out shopping with Ruby, Oliver went out on the rounds with Roddy and Lizzie and Willie went back to school and nary a word was said about Lady Ashton or Dr. Fairfax. Though everyone was far more relaxed and at ease. Sam, Charlotte and Oliver finally left on Sunday morning after spending a lovely weekend at Sommersgate.
Monday arrived and Miss Julia went in to Bristol to start her new job. She was supposed to work Monday through Thursday from ten o’clock until two. But she didn’t arrive home until well after three even though it was only a fifteen minute drive to Bristol. Mrs. K glanced at the clock, it was nearly four and the children would soon be home.
“Anything exciting happen today?” Julia asked
as the kettle burbled.
Mrs. K wanted to tell her that everything exciting had happened that day because nothing had happened without Lady Ashton to please. Mrs. K felt a sense of such deep relief, she didn’t exactly know how to handle it. She did not keep an eye out for every speck of dust, every slight smudge on window, mirror or the sheen on the banisters or tables. She didn’t have a pile of laundry to inspect to make certain they were fresh smelling and stain and wrinkle free. She didn’t have to mentally calculate every calorie in every dish she was making. And she didn’t have to calm Veronika’s nerves every time she saw the girl, who was also adjusting to this new feeling at Sommersgate with rapid ease.
All they had to look forward to was Miss Julia’s smiling face coming in the backdoor, a quick gossip over a fresh cuppa, the children’s rushing about when they got home and the rest of the time nothing but peace.
Even the house seemed to be settling into this new regime. The days were getting shorter but at Sommersgate the evening shadows were receding. The weather was becoming chill but in the house the draughts and cold were disappearing. In the evening, when it always seemed so dark, in the house, the edge was off the night. Shadows lost their menace. Rather than seeming alive and frightful, as they always had done, they just became shadows of this piece of furniture or that shape of a tree hit by the moonlight.
Even The Master and The Mistress had been silent. Not even Ruby saw or felt them anymore, Mrs. K knew because she’d asked the girl.
“No, nothing exciting,” she answered and Carter walked in just then with a nod and grabbed the grocery list and one of Mrs. K’s homemade scones. “Make it quick, I want to get that crumble ready for tea.”
Sommersgate House Page 21
