8. Chapter Eight
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I’m going down to London tomorrow to see the bank,” Colin told his father who was propped up against his pillows in bed enjoying a late supper. “I’m hoping they’ll at least give us a loan to redo the roof.”
His father frowned. “They damn well should. They’ve made enough money out of this family over the centuries to trust us to pay it back.” His knotted hands shifted against the sheets. “Edward said you are doing quite well with everything.”
“That’s good to hear,” Colin said lightly, almost reeling from what was close to high praise from his father. “Although I did tell everyone not to bother you about the annoying details while you weren’t feeling up to it.”
“Fat chance of that.” The earl gave a short bark of laughter. “Ever since you arrived, I’ve been inundated with notes and visits from the family about your callous treatment of them.”
“Because I’ve asked them to make a contribution to the place that has given them a home, no questions asked, for years?” Colin raised his eyebrows. “We can no longer afford to pay for everything, and the sooner they get that idea into their heads the better.”
“I don’t disagree with you, Colin. I should have done something of this nature years ago when I first inherited from my father.” The earl sighed. “I fear I was too busy holding things together and dealing with the women in my life to have time to consider all the leaks in the sieve.”
Colin privately resolved to tell Bartle, his father’s valet, not to let anymore notes or people through the door. His father looked exhausted enough as it was.
“I understand your American is still here.”
“Yes, and she’s been amazingly helpful.” Colin nodded. “All that American positivity and can-do spirit has started to rub off on me.”
“I do hope not. Your grandmother said she is a pleasant young woman and that she doesn’t seem to be after your title or your money.”
“Which is good, because, as we both know, I don’t have any money and titles aren’t important to free-thinking Californian software designers like Mabel.
” Colin hesitated. “It’s nice to have someone in my corner for once.
” He took the tray off his father’s lap.
“Are you finished with this, or do you want more tea?”
“No thank you.” His father picked up the remote. “I have had quite enough. Bartle and I intend to watch a baking show on the television with Mrs. Mary Berry at seven. She is a remarkably good cook, has excellent ankles, and reminds me very much of my old nanny.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it, sir. And I’ll report back after I’ve seen the bank.”
“I’d appreciate that.” His father put on his reading glasses. “Please tell Bartle to hurry up so that we don’t miss the beginning.”
“Will do.” Colin headed for the door, the tray balanced in one hand.
Even though his father was actually listening to him for the first time in years he still refused to share how he was feeling about anything.
Colin was beginning to think he’d never have the kind of relationship with the earl as his elder brother and Freddy had.
He clattered down two flights of stairs that led directly to the kitchens and went in to find Bartle sitting at the table with Mrs. Reynolds sharing a pot of tea.
“All done then, sir?” Bartle got to his feet and took the tray. He grimaced. “His lordship’s not eating enough to keep a bird alive.”
“Which is absolutely no reflection on your fabulous cooking, Mrs. Reynolds,” Colin reassured her. “That chicken pie you sent up to the dower house yesterday was amazing.”
“Oh, I don’t take it personally.” Mrs. Reynolds offered him a mug of tea as Bartle put the plates in the dishwasher and washed off the tray. “His lordship’s just not very well.”
Colin looked over at his father’s valet. “The earl did say to ask you to hurry upstairs so you don’t miss the fabulous Mary Berry.”
Bartle grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. I know all about that, sir. I think his lordship would marry that woman if she was free.”
“Like my father needs a fourth wife. Mary Berry would wipe the floor with him,” Colin murmured as he sipped his tea and Bartle headed up the stairs. “The family finances would be far better if he hadn’t had to pay out for all those divorces.”
“He never really got over your mother dying,” Mrs. Reynolds said thoughtfully. “All the others after that were just his attempts to regain the impossible.”
“You think so?” Colin sat opposite her at the huge pine table where twenty indoor staff had used to gather to eat their meals together. “At least we got the twins out of the last debacle.”
The cook smiled. “Little devils. Your father could save some money if they came home and went to the local school rather than that fancy public one.”
“Agreed,” Colin said. “Maybe I’ll broach that subject when they return for the holidays. Every penny counts.” He sighed. “I’m beginning to sound like Mr. Scrooge, aren’t I?”
Mrs. Reynolds patted his hand. “You’re doing fine, young Colin. We’re all very proud of the way you’re handling everything.”
“Who’s we?” Colin asked. “All I get are shitty comments, passive aggressive arguments, and complaints. And that’s just from my grandmother.”
“A lot of people struggle with change.”
“I get that, but you’d think that if it means the difference between a place surviving or falling down, that a lot more ‘people’ would get with the program.” Colin grimaced. “Sorry to dump all my woes on you, Mrs. Reynolds, but I think Mabel’s getting tired of hearing them.”
“She’s a nice girl, that. A real breath of fresh air.”
Colin smiled. “She is, isn’t she?”
“And she’s very fond of you.” Mrs. Reynolds winked at him. “She’d make a lovely viscountess.”
“Perish the thought.” Colin sat back. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”
Behind the kitchen door she’d just pushed open in time for her to hear Colin insist she wouldn’t make a good viscountess; Mabel paused and loudly cleared her throat.
“Hi!” She offered her most brilliant smile as she sauntered into the room. “Did I hear my name?”
“Only spoken in terms of reverence and wonder, my darling.” Colin said hastily.
“Weird, because I thought you were dissing my chances of being a good peer of the realm.”
“I was saying that anyone who took that on would be nuts. The last two women who held the title ran for the hills as soon as they could manage it.” Colin set his mug on the table and stood up. “And I thought America ditched the king and all that class stuff for a reason.”
“We did.” She grinned at him to show that she wasn’t really upset. Mrs. Reynolds handed her a covered dish, and they set off for the dower house, crossing the kitchen garden alongside the stables.
“Did your father marry more than once?” Mabel asked.
“Yes, after my mother died, he briefly married her best friend, Marjorie, which didn’t work out as well as either of them thought it might. Then there was Brigitte, a delightful French woman who blessed him with the twins before scarpering back to France.”
“Interesting. In my family it was my father who did all the running. At one point he had three women from three California towns each believing she was his only partner. Eventually, all the women got together, worked out what was going on, and gave him an ultimatum.”
“To do what?”
“Pick one of them.”
“And did he?” Colin asked, genuinely relieved not to be having to talk about his own crazy family for once.
“No. He married a teenager instead.”
“Ouch.” Colin winced. “Mind you, my father was thirty years older than Brigitte, so I’m not one to throw stones.”
“My dad stuck with the last one, though,” Mabel said with a smile. “They’ve been married for ten years. She doesn’t take any shit from him at all.”
“Mrs. Reynolds just said my father never got over my mother dying and that none of the others ever measured up to her.”
“Do you think she’s right?” Mabel asked.
“I’ve never thought of it like that, before.” Colin sighed. “It’s not as if my father shares his emotions about anything with me. In fact, I remember coming home from school at Christmas and finding Marjorie installed in my mother’s place and nobody even bothering to offer an explanation.”
“That sucks.”
“I didn’t even know my mother had died until—” Colin closed his mouth.
“Until what?” Mabel stopped walking and looked up at him, her brown eyes clear and full of sympathy.
“The headmaster called me into his study to give me the news.”
“Had she been ill?”
“She’d seemed a bit down and she took a lot of naps, but that wasn’t unusual. My father wasn’t an easy man to live with at the best of times, and he didn’t tolerate illness or ‘sloth’ as he called it. When I returned home at the end of term, I found out she’d had cancer for quite a while.”
“So no one summoned you home to say goodbye to her, even though they knew she was sick?”
“Apparently, my father thought it would upset us,” Colin said carefully. “I think I’d rather have been given the opportunity to say goodbye.”
Mabel abruptly started walking again. “Sometimes I’d like to get hold of your whole family and…take them to therapy.”
“It wouldn’t work,” Colin pointed out. “They’re British.”
“But still.” She sighed. “Did they send for you when your older brother died?”
“They didn’t need to. I was home when it happened.”
“That must have been horrible.”
Colin increased his pace. “We should hurry. I think it’s about to rain.”
“What time are you heading off tomorrow?” Mabel asked. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop and a cup of coffee in front of her. Her hair was in two high pigtails that bounced when she moved her head, and she wore jeans and one of his old Oxford college T-shirts.
“As I have no intention of driving into London, I’ll leave early and get the nine o’clock train and walk to their offices.” Colin paused. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”
“Nah, a girlie day hanging out with Felicity and your grandmother is just what I need.”
“I can’t quite picture my grandmother either hanging out or being girlie, but I’m sure you’re right,” Colin said dubiously.