Tristan shook his head. ‘Dad didn’t have any truck with using a nanny, even after our mother left him on his own with three small toddlers. He, Lancelot and Morgana looked after us and we attended the village school until we went onto boarding school at eleven. The furniture is a bit dated – but then you could say that about every room in the castle – but Mrs W and Maxwell gave the whole place a thorough clean. It needs a lick of paint and a few things modernising but if you’re happy with it then we can sort those out next week.’
Wow, they’d really gone to a lot of effort considering it was less than nine hours since she’d accepted Tristan’s off the cuff job offer. ‘You’ve gone to a lot of trouble …’
He shrugged it off. ‘No trouble. Now drink your wine while I go and move the car.’
‘If I’d known you had this bossy side to you, I might have thought twice about taking this job.’ She said it with a smile, but just a hint of warning. If he was going to be like this all time, they’d end up clashing.
Tristan held up his hands, rattling her car keys in the process. ‘Sorry. The weather stressed me out thinking about you on the roads today. I promise when it comes to work, that once we’ve agreed the project parameters and boring stuff like the budget with Arthur and the rest of the family, you will have complete autonomy.’
Well, that was a lot more than she’d expected. ‘Seriously?’
He nodded. ‘It makes sense to divide the workload and if I’m peering over your shoulder every five minutes, it’ll drive us both mad. I’m going to have my hands full sorting out all the exterior preparations now I’ve got a plan agreed with Iggy and Will. I was thinking I’d also manage the online stuff, taking bookings and doing comms with the guests, but the accommodation and entertainment schedule will be down to you.’ He frowned. ‘Damn, I wasn’t going to bother you with any of this stuff tonight, we’ll go through it all week after next once you’re settled in. Drink your wine!’ The last was thrown over his shoulder, together with a cheeky grin as he headed for the door.
Ten minutes later, with Isaac clinging to her neck like a little monkey, Jess found herself climbing up a third – and she hoped, final – flight of stairs. Tristan was ahead of her, helping Elijah who’d wanted to make it on his own, with Maxwell who’d insisted on carrying her case and a kind-faced woman dressed in a neat tweed skirt and stylish, but still sensible shoes bringing up the rear. There was not a wrinkle in her blouse, nor a hair out of place in Mrs W’s tidy chignon. She also appeared to have no trouble with the stairs, unlike Jess who was trying not to pant like one of the trains in Isaac’s favourite Thomas the Tank Engine cartoons. If she achieved nothing else between now and Christmas, climbing these stairs several times a day might shift the last of the baby weight she’d put on carrying Isaac.
Tristan let them in through a white door, the finish on it and the frame dulled to a creamy-yellow which spoke to the age of the paint job. He flipped on the lights to reveal a large rectangular room, the back wall of which was filled with huge lead-lined bare windows. The rain was back with a vengeance, rattling against the glass like bullets and filling the room with noise.
‘I sorted out drapes for the bedrooms but didn’t have time to find suitable ones for in here,’ Mrs W, said, voice apologetic.
‘There’s no need to apologise,’ Jess assured her as she took in the room. ‘It’s obvious how much effort you’ve all gone to today.’ The smell of beeswax and lemon as much as the shine on the low table and chairs set to one side spoke of hard work. A glow from the overhead lamps bounced back from the sparkling windows, and there was not a speck of dust on the long rail of skirting boards. An open wooden box displayed a collection of wooden building blocks, balls of varying sizes and an antique-looking rocking horse with a white mane spilling over its dappled-grey neck sat in the opposite corner. A thick, fluffy rug had been set down in the centre of the floor an inviting spot for the boys to play, or somewhere the three of them could curl up and read stories together.
The housekeeper gave her a pleased smile as she walked towards a door on the right. ‘This is your bedroom.’ She pushed open the door to reveal a charming room with a wrought-iron framed bed and a beautiful set of matched furniture. The bed had been made up with pretty pastel-pink sheets and pillows and topped with a quilt smothered in huge cabbage roses. Matching floral curtains covered the windows, and she could see another soft rug had been placed by the side of the bed.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, a little overwhelmed.
‘Booful,’ Isaac agreed, earning a laugh and a chuck under his chin from Mrs W.
‘There’s a small bathroom off here.’ The housekeeper pushed open a door. ‘And you’ve a sitting room here.’ She revealed another space, empty this time except for a fireplace. ‘We’ve loads of furniture in storage in the attics, so I thought you might like to choose what you wanted in here for yourself. There’s a kitchen, too,’ she indicated a door in the opposite wall. ‘Though I wouldn’t recommend you use anything in there beyond the kettle until we’ve had a chance to get everything checked over.’
‘That’s on my list of things to do, tomorrow,’ Maxwell interjected. ‘I’ve got the plumber and an electrician coming to give everything a thorough service, but the hot water is working.’ He set down her suitcase on the blanket box at the end of the bed. ‘Will you be joining the family for dinner this evening, or would you like me to arrange for something to be brought up here?’
The idea of this very kind man lugging a meal for three up all those stairs filled Jess with horror. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble, we can come down.’ She glanced at her watch, surprised to find she’d lost an hour somewhere. Oh well, she would worry about proper bedtimes tomorrow.
‘As you prefer, Miss Jessica, though it won’t be any trouble. I’ll be serving dinner at half past the hour. There’s soup to start, followed by roast chicken. If you, or the boys have any dietary requirements, I’ll be happy to pass them on to Betsy.’
Jess shook her head. ‘Nothing specific.’ She hesitated, embarrassed about a habit Elijah had recently picked up after having tea at a friend’s house, but not wanting to fight that particular battle with him on their first night here. ‘Umm, do you happen to have any tomato ketchup?’
‘I’ll make sure there’s a bottle available, Miss.’ Maxwell inclined his head as though she’d asked for caviar rather than table sauce. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall go and check on preparations and leave you in the capable hands of Mrs Walters.’ With another brief nod, the butler departed.
‘You’ll get used to his ways,’ Mrs W said, after he’d left.
‘He’s fantastic.’ Jess shifted Isaac to her other hip then reached out to touch the housekeeper lightly on the arm. ‘I think you’re all fantastic, thank you for everything.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing.’ The rosy glow on the housekeeper’s cheek said she appreciated the gesture. ‘Now, do you want to give the boys a quick bath before dinner? Then they’d be ready straight for bed after.’
It was a great idea, except for one thing. ‘I’m not sure about the protocol of appearing at the dining room table with them in their pyjamas.’
‘We don’t stand on ceremony here. Not for these guys, anyway.’ Tristan stood in the doorway, Elijah leaning against his leg in such a trusting way it brought a lump to her throat to see it. ‘I’ve shown Elijah his bedroom and he approves, don’t you?’ He ruffled Elijah’s hair, causing the boy to stare up at him.
‘Yes.’ It was said with a very emphatic nod. ‘It’s blue.’
‘If only everyone was so easily pleased,’ Tristan said with a grin. ‘Right, I too shall leave you all in Mrs W’s care, unless there’s anything else you need?’
‘I think we’ve got everything we need. Thank you again.’
Tristan departed with a wave, and Jess did as both he and Maxwell had recommended and put herself and the boys in the kind, capable care of Mrs W. She showed them into the boys’ bedroom which Elija
h had already inspected and approved. As well as a matching set of beds set on either side of the room, there was a large high-sided cot sitting against the back wall. ‘We weren’t sure whether the little one was in his own bed yet,’ Mrs W said.
‘He’s been sleeping in the bottom half of bunk beds for the past few months. It had a low rail along it, which seemed to help with the transition. I’ll see how he settles over the next few nights, but the cot is a great back up to have, thank you for thinking of it.’
‘Every baby is different.’ Mrs W smoothed a hand over the already neat quilt covering one of the beds. ‘Even the triplets. Iggy couldn’t wait to be in her own bed, but Arthur and Tristan clung to the cot even when the pair of them were almost too big to fit in it together. Silly pair would wake up in a right tangle of arms and legs, but it never bothered them. We had to push two beds together before we could persuade them to try them.’
‘You’ve been with the family a long time.’
Mrs W smiled. ‘Yes. I started out as a maid back when their grandfather was still alive, and the castle was a lot busier. I must say, I’m quite excited by Tristan’s plans for a Christmas house party. I used to love running between the guests back in the day, helping one with her hair, another with her dress. The castle seemed full of life back then.’
‘You won’t mind the extra work, then?’ It was one of the things she’d been wondering, how the staff were going to take to the idea.
‘No, not at all, and we won’t struggle to find the extra help we need. We already have a team of people from the village who come up every year to assist with the spring clean. I’ve already put a few of them on alert and they’re delighted at the prospect of a few extra pennies in their purses at Christmas. Once you’ve worked out the guest programme, perhaps you and I can sit down with Maxwell and work out a staffing rota to support it.’
Well that was one less thing to worry about. ‘That would be wonderful. I have a feeling I’m going to be leaning on you quite a bit in the coming weeks as I get up to speed with the place.’
Mrs W beamed. ‘Lean away, Mrs Riley, I’ll be only too happy to help.’
‘Oh, please, you must call me Jess.’
‘Jess, it is then. Now shall we get these two bathed and changed?’
Though she could’ve managed it herself, it was a lot easier to wrangle the boys with an extra pair of hands, especially when Elijah, naked as a jaybird, decided it was time for an impromptu game of hide and seek. Leaving Isaac happily splashing and chatting nonsense to Mrs W, Jess went to hunt down her little escapee. Spotting a suspiciously little boy shaped lump behind the floor-length curtains in her room, Jess made a big deal of searching everywhere else in the room. She pulled open the wardrobe, looked under the bed, inside the blanket box and even underneath the stack of pillows on her bed, all the while pretending she couldn’t hear Elijah giggling. Tired as she was, it did her heart good to hear him having fun. When she finally yanked back the curtains to pounce on him, he was almost breathless with laughter.
As she carried him back to the bathroom, she nuzzled him, relishing the sweet familiar weight of him in her arms. He was already heavier than he’d been at the start of the summer, and she’d soon struggle to carry him like this. He was growing up, her sweet little baby. It was enough to make her want to cry.
A little hand patted her cheek. ‘Don’t be sad, Mummy.’
Glancing down into a pair of worried green eyes, she smiled. So sensitive, she’d have to take extra care not to let things get on top of him over the next few months. ‘I’m not sad, darling, I was just thinking about what a big boy you’re getting.’
‘I’m a brave man,’ he told her in a solemn voice. ‘Tristan said so.’
‘Did he? Well, he’s right. You are very brave, and very good, and Isaac is lucky to have such a special big brother. Will you help him feel at home here?’
‘Yes.’ He paused then, his nose scrunched up in what Steve always called his thinking expression. Oh, hell. She’d forgotten to text him to say they’d got there okay. And her parents, too.
‘Come on, brave man, let’s get you in that bath.’
She hurried across the playroom towards the bathroom, pausing on the threshold when Elijah said ‘Mummy.’
Crouching to set him down, she remained at his level. ‘Yes, darling?’
‘If I do a bad thing, will you still love me?’
Shocked and stunned that such a thought would even enter his head, Jess gathered him into her lap. ‘I’m always going to love you, no matter what. And Isaac too. Always.’
‘But you don’t love Daddy anymore. Did he do a bad thing?’ His words came out on a shaky little breath.
Oh hell, and she and Steve thought they’d handled everything with the boys so well. ‘Daddy didn’t do anything wrong, not one thing, and neither did I. We’re still friends, we just don’t want to be together in the way mummies and daddies are.’ She hugged him close. ‘Shall I send him a text and see if you can have a chat later when I put Isaac to bed?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘All right, then.’ She kissed his cheek, then gave him a sniff. ‘Cor, I know a smelly boy that needs a bath.’ She tickled him as she said it, earning a squirming giggle.
Hoisting him onto her hip, she carried him into the bathroom where he proudly informed Mrs W that he was indeed a smelly boy.
‘Well, get yourself in here and get clean, young man!’ responded the housekeeper, swirling a hand in the bubbly water. ‘Your brother was a bit smelly too, but now he’s all clean.’
‘Smell!’ Isaac declared, proudly, holding his hands up towards Jess.
‘Oh dear, what have I started?’ Jess tugged down a towel from the rail then bent over the bath to gather Isaac up into it. ‘I hope you are going to behave yourself when we go back downstairs.’
‘Smell!’ he said again.
‘Smell!’ yelled Elijah from the bath before collapsing into giggles. Oh, dear God, perhaps she should’ve accepted Maxwell’s offer to bring their meal upstairs after all.
Chapter 6
As he’d predicted, the rest of the family had no issue when Jess reappeared in the family room with Isaac dressed in a onesie emblazoned with a picture of Thomas the Tank Engine on the chest, and Elijah in a pair of pyjamas covered in smiling cartoon dinosaurs. Lancelot rose to greet Isaac, and the toddler was soon ensconced on his lap, the pair of them having already formed a mutual appreciation society. So many memories came to Tristan’s mind of similar evenings he’d spent as a child safe and content in his uncle’s arms. He’d adored their kind, loving father to bits, but Lancelot had always been his hero.
Feeling a bit choked, he turned away from the scene to see Jess frowning over her phone. Edging around the room until he reached her side, he nudged her arm. ‘Problem?’
‘What? Oh, no, just my mother being her usual self.’ She pulled a face. ‘In all the fuss of our arrival, I forgot to message them to say we’d got here. I was already in the doghouse, but now I’m in Battersea and up for adoption.’ She tilted the screen towards him to show him a message.
Your father’s pleased to know you’re not all dead in a ditch at least.
‘Yikes.’ He could sense the frostiness and he’d never met the woman. While he could understand her being worried – God knows he’d been close to panicking when they hadn’t arrived on time – given everything Jess was going through, he might have expected a bit more sympathy from the woman. Then again when it came to mothers and their antics, his could probably top anything Jess’s tried.
‘Indeed,’ she agreed in a wry voice. ‘Oh well, she’ll get over it in another twenty or so years.’ She took the phone back. ‘Hey, would it be okay to get the code for your Wi-Fi? I’ve promised Eli he can Skype his dad before bedtime.’
At least that sounded like Steve wasn’t giving her a hard time. ‘Sure. The router’s in Arthur’s study and the code’s written underneath it. Give me two secs.’
‘I didn’t
mean you had to do it now,’ she protested.
‘It’s no problem.’
He found a scrap of paper in the top of Arthur’s desk and scribbled down the code. They had a public Wi-Fi system set up for visitors, but it was an open network and Jess would want the security of the secured family system – even if there weren’t currently any visitors to connect to the other one. Returning to her side, he handed her the paper, much to the curiosity of Elijah.
‘What’s that?’ he asked, in that direct way all small children seemed to have.
‘It’s for the Wi-Fi, so you can talk to your dad later. You’ll have lots and lots to tell him about your day, won’t you?’
Elijah nodded. ‘He’s an arkologist. He likes old things.’
‘I see.’ The last he’d heard, Jess’s ex had been doing something in the city.
‘He’s not an archaeologist yet,’ Jess enunciated the word carefully to her son. ‘That’s why he’s gone back to school.’ She turned to Tristan. ‘He drove down last night, and registration started today.’
‘A lot of change for all of you.’ He wasn’t sure what else to say. Clearly whatever had happened between the two of them they were still on speaking terms. Part of him wanted to push for information, but again he questioned the motivation behind that. It shouldn’t make any difference to him what was behind their split, nor how long it had been in the pipeline. Jess was a friend who needed a break to get her life back on track. He was not going to do anything to try and influence the direction she chose, no matter how much he might want to.
‘It sure is.’ Jess lifted Elijah onto her lap for a cuddle. ‘Your daddy isn’t the only one starting school. The first job on my list tomorrow is to go into the village and see what we can do about getting you registered. Won’t that be exciting?’
Elijah nodded, but Tristan could tell he wasn’t too sure about it. Sitting on the arm of the chair, he slung one arm along the back to support himself as he leaned back far enough to catch Elijah’s eye. ‘We went to the village school when we were your age. Mrs Winters was our teacher. She’s the Head now, so she looks after everyone at the school.’
Starlight Over Bluebell Castle Page 7
