Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Ellie trailed Dan through a series of grand rooms and along a corridor that led them to a bright and spacious modern kitchen. Sunshine streamed in from windows on two sides, glancing off the white-painted cupboards and island and the shining marble countertops. Only in commercial kitchens had she seen this many appliances—a pair of high-end ovens set into the wall, a broad green enamel range with multiple burners, a massive refrigerator, microwave, and something that appeared to be a wine cooler. The wooden dining table was of sufficient size for a banquet, with ample room for ten chairs.
Hannah had already set out three mugs and was spooning loose-leaf tea into a brown ceramic pot. She reached for the electric kettle and poured. “Anything to eat? To tide you over till dinner.”
“Not for me,” Ellie told her.
“We stopped for a bite on the way,” Dan added.
“Martin will be ravenous when he gets back. He drove off after breakfast, and I doubt he got any lunch.” Along with mugs of steaming brew, Hannah provided a small pitcher of milk and a bowl of grainy, caramel-colored sugar. “Muscovado, I think. Or demerara. Oh—that’s Martin now, I hear his Defender coming up the drive.” She took a fourth mug from a cabinet and poured tea into it. Crossing to the glass door, she opened it and called, “Take off those wellies before you step inside. Gosia mopped the floor.” Laughing, she added, “Don’t give them to me. Leave them outside.”
Ellie recognized the tall, shaggy-haired man from family photographs scattered about the Latimer House flat.
He grinned down at her. “Welcome to Stanwell, Ellie. You’re brave to venture into a disaster zone.”
“I’m here to help.”
“Tremendously kind of you.” He sat at the table.
Hannah set down his tea. “Too busy to message or ring me since dashing off this morning?”
“Afraid so. I visited the bank in Newbridge to open the relief fund account. The charitable division of Latimer Global made a substantial donation.”
“So will Acorn Films UK,” she said, “soon as you give me the routing number. Where else have you been?”
“Little Milver. The school cafeteria provides meals to villagers whose kitchens aren’t functional, and they’re feeding the cleanup crews. I left before the bridge inspectors completed their examination. I had to backtrack to Newbridge and took the long way round to Milverston Magna to reach Milver St. Mary. The church’s lych-gate is surrounded by something resembling a lake. The millpond looks like a reservoir. I’ve got photos.” He handed his phone to Hannah.
“Dreadful,” she said, swiping, then handed it to Ellie. “I rang the catering firm responsible for craft services during our film and television shoots. Where do you want them to set up?”
“Inside the tithe barn. They can unload their lorries in the car park.”
“Did you stop at Holly Cottage? How is Isobel?”
She referred to Martin’s mother, whose artistic talent was evident in the watercolors and oils hanging in the Latimer House flat.
“Surrounded by other members of the Women’s Institute, all making sandwiches and organizing a clothes collection. I offered one of our estate vans and a driver to deliver food and everything else to the undercroft of All Saints church, for distribution.”
“I don’t suppose you got lunch.”
“Packet of crisps at The Peacock. Poppy met me there and we toured tenant farms—the ones we could reach. And checked the watercourses. Every stream is a river.”
Hannah went to him and pressed her curly head against his. “You don’t have to solve all the problems. Let the helpers help. Top up?”
“Yes, please.”
She lifted the teapot and poured the liquid into his mug. She passed him the milk pitcher.
Focusing gray eyes on Ellie, he said, “If you aren’t already, you’ll soon wish you were back at Latimer House, high and dry.”
She smiled over at him. “Take your wife’s advice and give others a chance to step up. Over the past couple of decades, my home state of New Hampshire has experienced several one-hundred-year floods. My ballet class participated in a fundraising telethon, answering phones and taking credit card payments. Mom brought in principal dancers from Boston to join us for a charity performance. All the proceeds went to flood relief.”
Martin said, “In time, we’ll have to think up entertaining ways of raising a load of dosh. For now, our priority is restoring essential services and providing necessary supplies.” Eyeing his wife, he asked, “Where’s Richard?”
“Asleep on the library sofa. If I don’t wake him soon, he’ll be groggy and grumpy the rest of the afternoon. And make a mighty fuss at bedtime.”
“Take him outside for a ramble. Especially if he’s been indoors all day.”
Ellie said, “I’d like to stretch my legs.”
“You’ll want wellies,” Hannah told her. “I’ve got an extra pair you can wear. I’m guessing we’re close to the same size.” She slipped off a shoe. “Try this.”
Ellie removed a canvas flat and eased her foot into Hannah’s clog. “Perfect.”
“I’ll fetch the boots and the boy.”
When she reappeared, she brought with her a toddler whose brown hair lay flatter on the side he’d slept on. His blue t-shirt and shorts were rumpled, and his socks—printed with dolphins—sagged around his ankles. He tugged his hand out of his mother’s and launched himself across the room.
“Hello, Richard,” Dan greeted him.
“Why are you here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“Who’s that?”
“Ellie. She came with me. From London.”
“Oh.” He stepped behind Martin’s chair. An instant later he peeked around and beamed at Ellie. “I’m a nurl.”
“Technically, he’s a commoner, not an earl,” his father explained. “At his birthday party, his great-grandmother Alicia told him about his courtesy title. She’s a dowager duchess and obsessed with rank.”
“And,” Richard announced, “I’m a dragon.”
“That he is,” Hannah acknowledged, threading her fingers through her son’s curls. “We christened him Richard Dragon Rufus Latimer. Come along, fire-breather, let’s get your wellies on.”
“Can we go to the river?”
“If Daddy says it’s safe.”
Martin met her gaze. “Obstructions upstream have been cleared away, and the water is rushing with enough force to weaken the bank. Best to keep well away from it.”
“We’ll be careful,” Hannah promised him. “You’re not coming?”
“I should dig through the fridge and larder. Unless you or Jan already decided what we’re having for dinner.”
“I’m afraid not,” she confessed. To the guests, she added, “The advantage of marrying Martin—he’s a willing and creative cook. He worked at a restaurant in Venice.”
“Just one advantage?” he teased.
“Do I have time to change into jeans?” Ellie asked.
Hannah moaned. “I’m a complete dud as hostess. No plan for feeding our company, and I haven’t shown you to your bedroom. Any objections to floral chintz?”
“None.”
Dan said, “Do you mean the room you stayed in before you and Martin married?”
“Yes. The North Bedchamber.”
“I’ll take her.”
Ellie grabbed her handbag and went with him. She paused halfway up the staircase landing to study the portion of landscape framed by an oval window. A man and two dogs, one shaggy and light brown, the other black with white markings, were crossing the lawn.
“Ron, the house manager, with Martin’s lurcher Ariel. Jewel is Hannah’s. Just a matter of time till Richard has his own dog.” When she joined him in the upper landing, he told her, “I know a least four ways of reaching the guest quarters. This is the quickest and simplest.” He proceeded along a broad and lengthy corridor of closed doors, until coming to one that was half-open. “Your flowery bower.”
His description was accurate. The fourposter had a chintz coverlet and canopy, the curtains were made from matching fabric, and it covered the window seat where Ellie’s duffel had been placed. Pale purple wisteria fronds encroached on the windowpanes.
“I love it.”
His presence and their proximity to that bed made her wonder if his imagination was moving in the same direction as hers. To reorient her thoughts, she asked, “Is your room as nice as this? Where is it?” As a blush heated her cheeks, she regretted the second question. He might assign an unintended significance to it.
“They always put me in the Paneled Bedchamber, halfway down the passage. A more masculine vibe.”
“With everything else going on, Martin shouldn’t be making dinner. Is there a decent restaurant in the area, close to Stanwell, or in that town where we detoured?”
Dan shook his head. “He loves cooking, and it’s something to think about besides crisis management. Text me when you’re ready to go downstairs. I’ll guide you.”
Standing at the edge of the River Milver, still perilously close to flood stage, Ellie watched the water swirling round willow trunks and littered with sticks and broken cattails. The flattened and muddied grass beneath her feet was evidence of how far the overflow had extended.
“Martin moored his narrowboat over there,” Hannah told her, pointing. “When he inherited this estate from his uncle, he had Emotional Rescue transported from Little Venice in London. Hard to believe at the moment, but the river is too shallow for a vessel that size, so he sold her.” She knelt to speak to Richard, who tugged her shirt hem. “What is it, love?”
“A boat for me.” Widening his eyes, he added, “Please.”
“Next summer,” she said calmly, “when you’re four years old, we’ll fly across the sea to Maine. Great-grampa will take you on his lobster boat.”
“A lobster has claws.” Ellie held up both hands and mimed the opening and closing of a crustacean’s pincers.
“Lobster,” he repeated, his tiny thumbs and fingers copying her movements. He leaned down to touch one of his socks. “Fishes.”
“Those are dolphins,” Hannah told him.
“Fishes!” he insisted.
His mother released a sigh of surrender. “Why don’t you show Ellie where you found the baby rabbit?”
He whirled around. “Over there!” he shouted, and raced off.
Hannah rested a hand on her abdomen. “I’m hatching a girl egg. They told me at my week ten blood draw. It’s been at least a century, Martin says, since the head of the Latimer family produced a daughter.”
“Even more cause for rejoicing.”
When they joined Richard, he pointed out the place under a clump of faded daffodils and related a marginally intelligible tale of the bunny’s discovery by Ariel the dog.
“Let’s look for the deer herd,” Hannah suggested. “The keeper couldn’t locate them where they usually graze. He thinks the storm drove them into the Home Park, to shelter under the oaks and chestnuts.”
Ellie had never felt as earthbound as she did sloshing through puddles and stomping through damp grass in borrowed rubber boots. When her cell phone ringtone drowned out the bird calls and buzzing insects, she pulled the device from her jeans pocket. Reluctantly, she accepted the call.
“Hi, Gil.”
“How about meeting for drinks after your drama class? If you’ve not yet been to the Wolseley, it’s worth going. And only a few streets from your flat.”
“I’m in Somerset.”
“Whatever for?”
She could hear Hannah and Richard singing a ditty as they moved ahead of her, hand in hand. From the frequent pauses, she guessed that its tune and words were improvised.
“Ellie?”
“I’m staying with friends in the Milver Vale.”
“All weekend?”
“That’s the plan. Back to London on Monday.”
“We should discuss Fractures in the Heart. Soon. What days next week are you free?”
“None. Ballet class every morning. Maxi’s drama classes all afternoon.”
“I’m scheduled to work at the Sovereign for every evening performance. Sunday?”
It was more than a week away. “I’m not sure,” she hedged. “I’d better hang up.” With a laugh, she added, “I might be in danger of attack by a wild deer. Bye for now.” She hurried to catch up with her companions.
Richard faced her and held up his arms. “Carry.”
“You can walk,” his mother told him. “Better yet, you should run.”
“That was Gil Cooke,” said Ellie, pocketing her phone. “He wrote the play I told you about.”
“Is it any good?”
“I haven’t read it. But he won the top award at a play festival. Two characters, a man and a woman. He asked me to read the wife when he presents it to theatre producers. That’s why I asked for an agent recommendation.”
“Cait Murray. Not too young, not too old. She represents Lucas Daltrey for stage and film work, and a number of equally prominent actors and actresses. I’ll contact her, talk you up.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Richard bounded towards them. “No deers,” he said mournfully. “All gone to bed.”
“I expect so.” Hannah bent over to tug up his sagging shorts. “We can take Ellie to meet the horses.”
The barn’s inhabitants greeted the visitors with whinnies and head bobbing. Hannah lifted her son so he could pat étoile, his father’s horse, before returning to the house.
“My workplace,” she told Ellie, indicating one of several structures that formed the stable court. “A vacant staff flat before I claimed it. Acorn Films UK leases space at Hartcliffe Studios near Bristol, not quite an hour by car. My assistants are based there. At least twice a year I fly to Boston, for strategy sessions with Liz Gregorio. And to spend time with my family in Maine. I’ll be going this summer, before my tummy gets so large I can’t travel comfortably.”
A sage green vehicle came up the drive and parked beside Dan’s Jaguar. A leggy blonde climbed out, followed by a black Labrador.
“Millie!” Richard hurried over to greet the dog.
“Our estate manager, Poppy Dean.” Hannah went to meet the young woman, saying, “This is Ellie Lowery, our Latimer House tenant. She came with Dan. How’s everything at The Peacock?”
“Jack sent me away. He’s got a dozen people making meals and serving tables.” For Ellie’s benefit, she added, “My husband owns the pub in Milverston Magna. The better of the two, by far. My mobile hasn’t stopped ringing all day. Time to hole up in my office to return the calls I‘ve missed. Is Mart around? He’s supposed to contact firms that do water damage remediation.”
“You’ll find him in the kitchen.”
“Jan won’t be here to cook for you tomorrow. Her daughter’s house is a mess, and she’s got the whole family at hers.”
“We’ll manage. If she needs anything, Kateryna can pick it up at the supermarket in Newbridge tomorrow, when she shops for Isobel. And us.” As Hannah stepped past the mud-spattered Land Rover, she said, “I’ll get the bank papers Martin mentioned, with the routing number for the flood relief account.” She opened the passenger door and retrieved a folder.
“I want to contribute,” Ellie told her.
She removed the borrowed boots and set them outside the double glass doors beside Martin’s. Richard plopped on the ground and struggled to tug his off. When he stood, Hannah brushed dirt off his backside. They found Martin and Dan still seated at the kitchen table. The dogs were there, and the man who had exercised them. Introducing himself as Ron, he grinned and declared that he was the real master of Stanwell.
“Not far from the truth,” Martin affirmed. “But don’t believe his boast that he’s a finer chef than me.” He bounded up from his chair. “Ready to see the house, Ellie?”
“Now?”
“I’m tagging along,” Dan announced, “to keep Martin honest.”
“You think I don’t know the difference between colorful family legend and recorded history?”
After granting Ellie time to admire the ground floor dining room’s gleaming mahogany table and sparkling crystal chandeliers, Martin moved into areas associated with visiting royalty.
“Do you and Hannah use these grand rooms?” she wondered.
“Occasionally. Before visitors arrive, Gosia the housemaid removes protective cloths from the antique furniture and dusts the surfaces.”
Dan muttered, “None of that sprucing up happens on my account.”
Martin concluded his tour in the Long Gallery. “We bring Richard here on stormy days and make him run up and down until he’s worn out. Several times this week we had to lure him out of the fireplace. He was hell-bent on climbing up the chimney flue all the way to the rooftop.”
“Takes after his dad,” Dan said. “I’ll wager Martin did exactly the same as a boy.”
Ellie looked at Martin. “You have a disrespectful employee.”
“I make allowances.”
“I’ll behave,” Dan said. “I certainly don’t want to get sacked. Not after the monumental difficulty I had landing the job.”
“Difficulty?” Ellie repeated. “Hannah described you as quite the catch. Professionally,” she hastily added.
“For two years after qualifying as a solicitor, I worked at a Bristol firm. When I found out Latimer London Properties were recruiting, I immediately applied for a position. I was one of two finalists. They hired the other chap.”
“Not my decision,” Martin declared. “I had no part in that process. The only reason you missed out, I discovered, was because he was based in London and they didn’t want to cover relocation expenses.” Turning to Ellie, he said, “Four months later, that fellow gave notice and went out to Dubai to work there. I contacted Dan. Vetted him myself.”
“About ten minutes into that conversation,” Dan added, “we realized my dad and my grandfather had both been acquainted with his uncle.”
Martin’s gaze shifted from one to the other. “Fate is generous in bringing people together at the perfect time. Don’t you agree?”