by Shéa MacLeod
"Yes?" A voice finally crackled over the intercom.
"Hi, this is Anna Lucas. I'm the new nanny."
There was a pause. "Come in." I heard a faint buzzing sound, and the gate gave a slight shudder. I pushed it, and it swung open easily. I shoved my way through, letting it slam shut behind me. The walk to the front porch was short, maybe five or six steps, but by the time I reached the door, I was definitely at drowned rat stage.
There were only two steps, which was a relief. And there was a tiny overhang which kept the black and white tiled stoop mostly dry. There was a small welcome mat placed exactly so in front of the door. Unfortunately I didn't think wiping my feet was going to help matters. I was dripping all over the place.
The red door swung open and a pinch-faced woman stared down at me. She was tall, probably close to six feet, with graying hair pulled up in a tight bun. Dark circles ringed her eyes. "Oh, good. You're here." I heard the relief in her voice and realized the pinched look was probably from exhaustion. "Come in. Quick. Out of the rain."
I stepped into the warmth of the foyer, well aware I was dripping on the highly polished marble floor. "Ms. Talbot?"
The woman gave me a weak smile. "Oh, no, dear. I'm Viola. I'm Ms. Bella's housekeeper. Well, that's what I'm supposed to be, but lately I've been helping with the children." She cleared her throat. "It's been a challenge."
Oh, boy. "Challenge" was also code for "difficult."
"Oh, heavens, you're soaking wet."
"Sorry," I muttered, staring down at the pool of water rapidly spreading at my feet. I felt bad. Somebody was going to have to clean that up. No doubt Viola.
She caught the direction of my gaze. "Oh, pish posh. The floor will mop. You, however, are going to catch your death of cold if you don't get out of those wet clothes."
"That's an old wives' tale," I assured her.
She narrowed her eyes. "Are you arguing with me?"
"No, ma'am."
"Good. Upstairs with you. I'll show you to your room." She grabbed my suitcase before I could so much as blink and charged up the wide staircase. I followed her, wincing at the damp spots left on the polished dark wood. Just what I needed on the first day of my new job: destroying my boss's property. "Don't worry about the water marks," Viola said as if she could read my mind. "Believe me, after having the twins here for the past month, Ms. Bella is getting used to chaos and imperfection."
Frankly, I saw no sign of any chaos or imperfection, but I muttered an agreement and hoisted my tote higher on my shoulder. The thing was heavy, the straps cutting into my skin.
We reached the second floor—I'd learned at the airport the ground floor was called the first floor—and walked down a short hall.
"These are Ms. Bella's rooms," Viola said, nodding at a door on the right. "That's her bedroom and on the left is her office." We trudged up another flight of steps, this one a little narrower but still quite lovely with more polished dark wood and a bannister that looked like it might be original. "This floor is for the twins," Viola puffed as we reached the second—make that third—floor. "They share a bedroom and the other room is for their playroom. This is where you'll spend a lot of your time, no doubt. Follow me."
Another flight of stairs loomed, this one barely wide enough for me to walk properly. The treads had been covered with Berber carpet, a far cry from the elegance downstairs. My bet was these were the attic stairs. Probably had once been servant's quarters. Probably still were. It was practically Dickensian. Good grief, they weren't expecting me to dress in black bombazine and speak in a Cockney accent, were they?
At the top of the stairs, Viola paused to catch her breath before pushing open a narrow door. On the other side of it was a small room with slanted ceilings so low, I could only stand in the exact center of the room. Viola had to duck her head even there to avoid smacking her head on the light fixture.
"This is your room." Viola beamed. "Cozy, isn't it?"
"That's one word for it." There was a single window at one end of the room letting in light. Red and white toile curtains draped the window, giving it a bit of cheer. A small desk and straight-backed chair were shoved up underneath the window. Someone had been thoughtful enough to place a cut glass vase filled with pink roses on the desk. Next to them, against the only stretch of full height wall not broken by doors or windows, was a narrow wardrobe in shabby chic white. Good thing I hadn't brought many clothes. I didn't think I could fit much in there.
Beside the wardrobe was a green, gingham-covered reading chair with a black iron floor lamp next to it. Perfect for curling up with a good book. Tucked under the eaves was a single bed with a basic, but rather cute, white-painted iron bed frame and a thick down duvet covered in toile that matched the curtains. Piles of lacy green gingham pillows covered one end of the bed, while a stack of fluffy green towels sat at the other. At the end of the room opposite the window, next to the door to the stairs, was a second even narrower door.
"The wash room," Viola supplied.
I poked my head in and breathed a sigh of relief to find a toilet and the world's tiniest sink. The two were so close together, I could actually wash my hands while sitting on the throne, but at least there wasn't a chamber pot in sight. Above the itty bitty sink was a mirrored medicine cabinet offering toothpaste, a brand new toothbrush, and various skin care products in mini bottles like you find at hotels. Crammed in under the eaves was a shower with a green gingham shower curtain. I was pretty sure I'd have to sit because there was no way I was short enough to stand. Inside the shower was a collection of organic shampoos and shower gels. Perfect. I wouldn't have to go shopping right away.
"I'll leave you to get unpacked and cleaned up," Viola said with a smile. "Maybe take a nap. I'm sure you have jet lag."
"But shouldn't I meet my boss or something?"
"Oh, she's out on a job at the moment. You'll meet her and the boys at dinner. Six o'clock in the dining room. Ms. Bella likes to eat early because of the twins. She considers family meals important."
My mom and dad had felt the same way. Family meals had been loud and rambunctious, thanks to my two brothers.
"Be on time," Viola said with a warning note in her voice. "Ms. Bella insists on punctuality."
"Sure thing. Thanks, Viola."
"You're welcome, Anna." She slipped out the door and closed it behind her. I heard her footsteps on the stairs.
Turning to survey my tiny kingdom, I let out a sigh. Not quite what I'd envisioned, but it was cute and comfortable. Clearly Bella Talbot had taken pains to make the room, cramped as it was, inviting. I could get used to this. Too bad there wasn't a TV, but I imagined I wouldn't have much time for watching. Not with a pair of twins to look after. "Challenging" ones at that.
Shrugging out of my wet coat, I draped it over the back of the desk chair. Hopefully it would dry quickly. I only had the one coat. I kicked off my shoes and tucked them next to the small radiator. Then I shucked off my jeans, which were damp from the knee down. Those I draped on the radiator. Then I grabbed a pair of dry jeans from my suitcase and slipped those on instead.
I turned to the task of unpacking. It took a matter of moments to hang my clothes in the wardrobe and line the shoes neatly on the bottom. There was no place in the bathroom for my makeup, so I tucked it in one of the desk drawers. My laptop and ereader went atop the desk, along with a framed picture of my family, the only sentimental thing I'd brought with me. Finished, I sank down on the edge of the bed, nearly bashing the back of my skull against the slanted ceiling. I heaved a sigh.
I couldn't believe it. I'd left everything behind and here I was in London, about to embark on a whole new chapter of life. I shivered in delight.
"Let the adventure begin."
Chapter 3
I woke to a darkened room, disoriented. Why was my window so small? And why was the ceiling a foot above my face?
Then I remembered. I was in London, about to become nanny to two tiny terrors. I sat up, narrowly avoiding
braining myself, and snagged my cell phone off the desk: 6:02. Shit. I was already late. Great way to make a first impression.
I jumped out of bed and felt around for my shoes. Still damp. Crap. I eyed the wardrobe considering my boots. Too much time to lace them. I'd just have to go down in my socks. I hoped that wasn't some massive faux pas. I dashed into the bathroom and flipped on the light, wincing as I caught sight of my reflection. My eye makeup had traveled down my face leaving me looking like a zombie raccoon. My hair stuck out in random directions. I dashed back to my desk to dig out a Q-tip and my comb. The Q-tip removed the makeup, but the hair was hopeless, so I stuck a couple bobby pins in the mess and hoped for the best.
I took the stairs down to the second floor two at a time, bashing my shoulders against the narrow walls. No doubt I'd have bruises later. Hitting the bottom of the steps, I hurried down the hall to the main staircase. Dashing down those, I hit the marble floor and went skidding across in my stocking feet until I slammed up against something hard and warm. Something that grunted when I hit it. Big hands wrapped around my upper arms, saving me from collapsing gracelessly to the floor.
"What have we here?" said a distinctly male voice. A very sexy male voice with a delicious British accent. Naturally. Duh. I was in London. Everyone had British accents.
I glanced up to find myself drowning in a pair of emerald green eyes ringed with thick, sooty lashes. Oh, lordy, I was a goner. I'd always been a sucker for green eyes, especially if the guy had dark hair.
I risked a glance higher up. Check. Dark hair, slightly curly and still damp from the outdoors. Yep, I was in big time trouble. My heart gave a little thud to let me know it was interested. Traitor. Didn't it have enough to do, dealing with Neil's betrayal? It gave another happy thud. Apparently not.
"S-Sorry," I stammered. "I, uh, overslept. I'm late. This is my first day. Crap. Sorry. I'm rambling. Crap. I swore. Sorry."
His laugh was a sensual rumble that sent shivers down my spine and straight to my lady parts. Apparently those were traitors, too.
"What's your name?" he asked.
I swallowed. "Anna. Anna Lucas. I'm the new nanny."
His smile showed off a single dimple on the left side of his mouth. I nearly melted then and there.
"Evander Cartwright," he said, his eyes so intense I felt like he could see through to my very soul.
I had to remind myself I was not here in London for a boyfriend. I was here for a job. And a new start. I did not have time for silly nonsense like falling for a guy so far out of my league, I couldn't even see his league.
Because if the smooth wool of his clearly expensive suit hadn't given it away, the fact that he was here in this posh mansion in Notting Hill would have. Besides, he was no doubt Bella's boyfriend or something. Last thing I needed was to poach on my boss's territory. I backed way up, quickly and literally.
"Cartwright? Like the twins?"
He nodded. "Their uncle. Their father was my older brother."
"Oh," I said softly. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you." His voice was equally soft, and his expression told me he truly appreciated I realized he might be grieving too. "Well, if you're looking for the dining room, it's this way," he said, gesturing opposite the direction I'd been headed.
"Oh, uh, thanks." I heard the clanking of silverware. The aroma of roasted meat tickled my nose, and my stomach gave an embarrassing rumble. Evander tried to hide his grin, but I caught the flash of dimple. Tilting my chin up, I marched into the dining room.
"Nice of you to join us." The woman, who must be Bella Talbot, sat rigidly in the chair at the head of the table. Every line of her slender body was so stiff, a strong wind might have knocked her over. She was dressed in a simple but exquisitely tailored pale-blue shift dress. Lucky her, she didn't have any odd lumps and bumps turning it into an unflattering mess. Instead she was almost too thin. And pale, as if she hadn't seen the sun in a while. Her light blonde hair was pulled back into a severe bun which made Viola's look messy.
Evander strode around the table to give her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. "Sister, dear, give the girl a break. She just spent the last day travelling."
"I am not your sister," Bella said tightly in a low voice I didn't think I was supposed to hear.
"Close enough, now the rest of the family is gone," he whispered back.
"Uncle Evan! Uncle Evan!" Two little boys with dark hair like Evander's and pale blue eyes like Bella's bounced in their seats exuberantly.
"How are my two favorite nephews?" he boomed, swooping down to give them both hugs.
"We're your only nephews," one of the boys giggled.
"Please, Evander. You are disrupting the schedule."
"Ah, the schedule. Do forgive me, sister."
Her pinched expression grew more pronounced. Apparently she really didn't like him calling her "sister."
Coming back around toward me, Evander ushered me to an empty spot across the table from the boys and next to Bella. He pulled out the chair with a flourish and seated me. So weird. I wasn't used to proper old-school manners. I guess I was going to have to get used to it.
Once Evander seated himself at the foot of the table, Bella cleared her throat. "Boys. This is your new nanny, Ms. Anna. Anna, these are my nephews, Reece and Riley Cartwright. I'm Bella Talbot, and I see you've met my brother-in-law, Evander Cartwright."
"It's nice to meet you all," I said, smiling at the boys, who stared back at me with large eyes as if they'd just seen a giant green alien land at their dining room table.
"We will speak more after dinner." Bella gave me a pointed look. I guess she didn't want to discuss my duties or whatever in front of the twins. Fair enough.
"Of course."
Evander just grinned. "This should be interesting."
Bella opened her mouth but was interrupted by Viola charging through the kitchen door with a giant soup tureen in hand. "Dinner is served," she announced, quite unnecessarily. She gave me a sly look that clearly let me in on the joke. She was being deliberately over the top. I caught another dimple flash from Evander.
After doling out our soup, potato leek if I wasn't mistaken, she marched back into the kitchen, banging the door shut behind her. Bella cleared her throat as she picked up her spoon. The twins charged ahead, slurping and slopping their soup while chattering away about superheroes. Typical five-year-old behavior, in my opinion, but Bella looked horrified. Evander, on the other hand, joined in on the superhero talk, though I noticed he had better table manners than his nephews. I supposed Bella would insist on me fixing that.
My mind was a whirl of questions. Thanks to Sylvia, I knew the twins' parents had died in a car accident. Bella had inherited them, but why? Clearly she wasn't the maternal type. In fact—I slid a sideways glance her way—she appeared completely at a loss and not particularly fond of the two exuberant boys she found herself in charge of. I'd just have to do my best to make up for that.
And where did Evander come in? He was the boys' uncle, and he clearly adored them, so why hadn't he been appointed their guardian instead of Bella? And while he was obviously trying to make the best of things, she clearly didn't like having him around. So why was he here in her house at dinner?
And what exactly had I gotten myself into?
# # #
While Viola put the boys to bed, Bella had me join her and Evander in the living room. She called it the "sitting room," which was kind of ridiculous since it was just a normal old room with a couch and TV and all that. Just nicer furniture than I was used to. A lot nicer. Some was definitely antique. And everything, while not matchy matchy, definitely blended together harmoniously. I don't think I'd ever had furnishings that matched in my entire life. Growing up, we hadn't had a lot of money. We hadn't been poor, but we weren't rolling in it, either. Secondhand furniture was a way of life. No one cared if anything matched or even went together. So the burnt-orange chair and powder-blue sofa clashed? At least you had somewhere to park
your backside.
Evander waved me to a plush, eggplant-colored velvet chair next to the fire. I welcomed its warmth. There was a distinct chill in the air that didn't just come from Old Man Winter. While Evander sat on the end of the white leather sofa nearest me, Bella sat at the extreme far end, her back ramrod straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She looked prim and proper and like she had a poker up her backside. Not my idea of a fun employer.
For a long moment, there was nothing but awkward silence. I could hear the tick tick of the brass clock on the mantle. I resisted the urge to fidget like a kid waiting to see the principal.
"Mrs. Sylvia Cobb says you come highly recommended," Bella said at last. Her tone was distant, haughty. Evander gave a little smirk and a look that clearly said "here we go." Obviously, Bella's uppity ways weren't Evander's cup of tea.
"I worked for an exclusive preparatory school back home. I taught art."
"But you were fired."
"I was downsized," I corrected her. "In this economy, art is the first thing to go." I wasn't about to tell her about Lala Yarrow and her philandering husband. Not only was it embarrassing, but I was afraid she'd think I was a bad influence.
"How…shortsighted."
"I agree," I said, giving her a smile. It was not returned.
"I am a designer, as you can see." She indicated the room around her. Ah, that explained it. "Art and aesthetics are very important to me. Hopefully you can instill appreciation for that in the twins."
"Uh, sure."
She smoothed her skirt. "I suppose we should explain the arrangement first."
I said nothing, just glanced from her to Evander and back again. Sometimes it's better to keep your mouth shut and see what spills out.
"My sister, Meg, was married to Evander's brother, John. They were killed a few months ago in a car accident. Guardianship of the twins was left to us equally, but I was given their daily care."
