Chapter 7
S carlett’s eyes followed Edward as he walked down the hall until he was out of sight. She turned to find Mrs Wilson looking at her with narrowed eyes.
“Sorry,” Scarlett said with a shrug. “I guess I’m tired and dazed after… everything.”
“I imagine it’s been a long couple of days for you.” Mrs Wilson still seemed to be sizing Scarlett up.
“I’m guessing there’s not much love for the younger brother?” Scarlett wanted to change the subject and collected the cleaning products, wiping her oily hands on her jeans.
“They’re like chalk and cheese, those two!
” Mrs Wilson was soon beside her. “Let me take those down for you.” She examined Scarlett’s handiwork so far.
“You’ve done a great job. We’ll get the rest done later this afternoon, and then we’ll look at Lady Cameron-Reid’s quarters.
Should be interesting– it’s not been in use since the laird’s ex-wife was still here. ”
“Ex-wife?” An estranged American mother, a strained relationship with his brother, and an ex-wife? Scarlett was intrigued.
“Aye, she left about twelve years ago, took their daughter and now’s married with another two children.
” Mrs Wilson walked back down the staircase, inspecting the polish on the spindles at the same time.
“Lily is here, well, used to be here, every weekend without fail. He’s always trying to be a good father, but she’s eighteen now, and you know what it’s like with younger ones.
They want to be busy with their friends.
” Satisfied with Scarlett’s effort, Mrs Wilson veered off to the right. “I think it hurts him, though.”
Scarlett trailed behind her through to the kitchen, hanging on to every word.
She wasn’t sure why, but she hadn’t pictured him to be a family man and imagined he was more of a solitary figure, obsessed with his ancestral home and work, leaving little room for much else, including romance.
Scarlett immediately realised she was being ridiculous. Of course he had a love interest. A family. She wouldn’t be the only red-blooded woman who saw what she did.
She silently reprimanded herself for the creeping feeling of hope rising in her that perhaps it wasn’t the case at the moment.
What on earth was she thinking? Of course she wasn’t going to end up with a hot laird in the Scottish Highlands– she wasn’t living in some parallel universe where everyone ended up with their very own happy ending.
Scarlett wasn’t a hopeless romantic like her mother, who, Scarlett was certain, would still be engrossed in some classic or historical romance novel when not working.
No, Scarlett lived in the real world. And in that world, women closer to middle age than their twenties– especially working-class women – enjoyed a comfortable and content existence for a few years until their husbands cheated on them, leaving them back where they started, probably cleaning houses for others.
She winced. She knew she was being dramatic.
Scarlett rarely wallowed in self-pity or played the victim; she was stronger than that.
And there was nothing wrong with cleaning and this wasn’t a terrible situation to be in.
This would all work out and was the perfect solution until she could form a more long-term plan.
Life wasn’t over– it was just temporarily and completely fucked. But developing a crush on another man was definitely not the answer.
Everything would be just fine.
She was tired though and starting work only a day after arriving, having been through a traumatic break-up and a long drive north, perhaps wasn’t the best idea, despite her desire to keep busy and occupied.
Scarlett admitted defeat. Following the laird’s advice to rest up for a couple of hours wasn’t a terrible idea. Her eyes felt heavy, and her joints were aching.
Sleep would be good.
*
A light tap on the door woke Scarlett.
“Scarlett, I’ve brought you some tea and toast.” June came in and set a tray on the dresser beside the window.
“Thanks.” Scarlett’s eyelids felt heavy with sleep. “What time is it? I was only going to rest for an hour or so.”
“You’ve been asleep since yesterday lunchtime. It’s just gone seven. I’m just heading out to work.”
“As in seven am?” Scarlett sat up with a jolt.
June nodded.
“I’ve slept a whole day and night?” She couldn’t remember ever sleeping that long.
“Take it easy. You’ll make yourself dizzy again.” June opened the window behind the closed curtains. “Edward suggested you start work on Friday. Give yourself another couple of days to get some rest and find your feet. What with all the travelling and, well, everything else.”
June looked at Scarlett, her concern apparent.
She continued, “I agree with him. And you mustn’t worry– it will still leave plenty of time for you to help Mrs Wilson with the east wing.”
“His brother is arriving on Saturday.” Scarlett plumped her pillow behind her before leaning back against the headboard, the smell of tea and toast rousing her out of her sleepiness. She reached over and brought the tray to the bed.
“Yes, seems to be causing quite a stir.” June wiped her hands down the front of her green work trousers. She nodded towards the toast. “Mrs Wilson’s homemade jam. I remember strawberry was your favourite.”
“Thank you.” Scarlett suddenly felt famished and took a large bite, melted butter and warm jam spilling onto her chin. She couldn’t remember toast ever tasting this good.
“Glad you’ve got your appetite back.” June smiled. “Right, I’d best get on. Make yourself at home, maybe take a stroll through the grounds if you feel up to it. Fresh air will do you the world of good. I’ll see you around dinnertime. I’ve put chilli in the slow cooker for later.”
Having taken another large bite, Scarlett just nodded and waved goodbye with her free hand, watching the back of her mother as she left.
She didn’t want to make a fuss, but two days of not doing anything apart from being lost in her own thoughts didn’t seem that appealing, even with what she imagined were good intentions.
But she didn’t hate the idea either.
Her body seemed to be telling her the same as the laird, so she softened to his instructions. Perhaps he wasn’t so surly after all, not that it made any actual difference to her. She wasn’t likely to spend a significant amount of time with him.
Scarlett mused over their last meeting on the stairs whilst she polished off the remaining toast and drank her tea.
She thought of the way he put his hands in his jean pockets, nodding, whilst his eyes widened and lips squeezed together– Scarlett wasn’t sure if it was a grimace or a smile, but his awkward disposition made him even more endearing to her.
He must think me a complete liability .
She shook her head at the thought– in fact, she needed to stop thinking about him altogether.
To distract herself, she pulled a curtain aside and looked out the window.
The sky was clear, and there was a certain crispness to the scene outside.
She liked autumn and a walk in the woods felt like a great idea.
She was getting agitated by the crumbs nestling between her breasts, and the idea of lying in the same clothes for almost two days made her grimace.
Scarlett moved the tray from her lap to the bottom of the bed and swung her feet onto the floor. The tiredness plaguing her for days seemed to have finally lifted and the debilitating feeling of dread no longer sat on her chest like an anvil.
At least that was something.
In less than an hour, Scarlett had showered, dressed, and was standing in the courtyard, unsure where to go for a walk. She didn’t much feel like running into Edward after their last awkward exchange, which had culminated in his pity and an extended duvet day.
Way to impress the new boss.
She cringed.
Equally, despite her kind nature, Mrs Wilson wasn’t someone she wanted to see either. In fact, she didn’t want to see anyone , so she followed the small path she could see leading towards the woods; trees and the odd bit of wildlife seemed like a much safer bet.
The path snaked alongside the main rear lawn with tall hedges that kept her from view from the ground level of the house and gardens.
A short walk down brought her to an opening that formed a natural T-junction, where a solid wooden bench, with a detailed owl carved into its high back, greeted all who approached.
Scarlett ran her fingers over the owl’s face and smiled at its realistic features.
She looked both ways.
One way led into the dense woodland and the other she guessed headed towards the loch she’d glimpsed from the upper floors.
Scarlett opted for the protection of the woods.
The damp, heady smell of pine mingled with decaying leaves, moss, and fern drew her in.
It reminded her of a recent article she’d read about the benefits of forest bathing instead of traditional medication, and although she was no scientist or medical expert, the sense of peace she experienced as she took in the sights and sounds around her made her see why there might be some truth to it.
A modest stone bridge that looked as old as the house itself stretched across a stream a couple of metres below her. She stopped to watch for a few moments before continuing up a small hill.
Ahead, she spotted another bench, similar to the one close to the entrance of the woods. Two otters, their faces showing bright curiosity, were carved into the armrests.
Scarlett smiled again.
Whoever had commissioned these to be distributed throughout the woods clearly had a keen sense of fun and love for wildlife.
She wondered if it had been Edward’s mother when the boys were younger, or perhaps even his wife, and Scarlett tried to imagine a childhood where she would’ve had this kind of freedom to roam.
It was so far removed from her own, which had comprised being in their tiny flat or playing in the small back garden of her aunt’s compact terraced house.
Looking around, she thought of Edward running around these woods, making up games with his brother and perhaps even their parents.
With such memories and surroundings, it was no wonder Edward never left, or that her own mother would never want to– just the idea that the day would come when Scarlett would need to leave briefly filled her with a pang of sadness. She wasn’t sure why.
“Stop feeling so sorry for yourself,” she groaned, shaking her head.
“In some places, they call you crazy for talking to yourself,” a voice spoke from behind her.
Scarlett spun around to see who it was. Judging from the gardening clothes and Polish accent, she guessed immediately.
“Andrzej, right?” Scarlett cocked her head to the side.
“Correct, and you must be Scarlett.” A huge welcoming smile stretched across his face.
She nodded in response. “I didn’t hear you coming, sorry.”
“No need to apologise, and no need to worry. I also talk to myself. The trees are old and good listeners.”
Scarlett flushed, feeling awkward. It was a sensation she was quickly becoming accustomed to around the various inhabitants of Haddon House.
“A fence has come down near the river. I’m just off to investigate.” He nodded towards where he was heading.
“Sounds exciting.” Scarlett smiled back at him, his own being contagious.
“You wish to join me?”
“Sure.” She shrugged. “I didn’t realise there was also a river.”
“Yes, through the top of the woods and down the hill.” He pointed up ahead. “Not far, lots of trout and salmon. You will like it. It’s very beautiful.”
“Sounds great.” Scarlett put her hands deep into her pockets as they fell into step with each other.
“Plus, I’m also good at listening if you feel like talking to someone other than the trees.” Andrzej gave a good-natured chuckle.
Scarlett laughed. “Thanks, they’re not bad listeners but terrible conversationists.”
Andrzej nodded. “Yes, although the same has been said about me also.”
Scarlett smiled at his easy company. “So, a fence has fallen?”
“Yes, nothing too dramatic, but the neighbours can become a little upset when it falls on their side, you know. So, I must look and maybe pull it back onto our side until we repair.”
“You mean you and my mother?”
Andrzej let out a gentle laugh. “Your mother is a strong woman and wonderful gardener, but myself and the boss do the heavy lifting.”
“Edward does manual work too?” Scarlett asked, looking across at him.
Andrzej was a pleasant man to look at, and to talk to– she could see why her mother liked him so much.
“You seem surprised.” He raised his eyebrows at the question.
“Do I?”
Andrzej nodded, glancing at her before returning his focus to the path. “Yes, you do.”
“I suppose I just thought considering his rank, he’d leave the hard work to his staff.”
Again, Andrzej laughed. “I don’t think he would appreciate that thought.”
“Good job he’s not around to hear it then.” Scarlett shrugged, smiling.
“Best keep your voice down. It’s no longer only us and the trees. I think I see him up there.”
Scarlett looked up ahead and saw his unmistakable silhouette waiting for them. “Great.”
Andrzej gave her a questioning look, which she ignored, taking a keen interest in the boots she’d borrowed from her mother instead.