Chapter 9
The tennis match turned out to be interesting.
For starters, Kat was surprisingly good, especially for someone her age.
Beyond that, Mishka became strangely engaged with the game, calling out encouragement to Meredith and asking questions about scoring when they paused for water breaks.
But perhaps most interesting was that just as Meredith, a fierce competitor, was about to win and break the two-match tie by doing so, she decided to miss.
Hearing Kat’s victorious whoop of delight as the ball sailed past, Meredith felt a tinge of regret.
This went against everything Dad had taught her about giving her best—whether it was tiddlywinks or tennis.
She’d always refused to throw a match, even for a handsome crush with a big ego.
And just like that she’d let this one go.
But seeing Kat’s satisfied face, she hoped it was for a good reason. The girl needed a confidence boost.
Meredith disguised her pleasure at this minor accomplishment as she approached the net. Wearing a defeated expression, she congratulated the victor. “Nice shot.” She maintained a flat tone, although smiling inside. “You’re really good, Kat!”
Kat smiled as she mumbled thanks. But then her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “But you were right on it. You could’ve returned that shot.”
“Maybe so. I guess I was tired.” Meredith sighed. “And it’s been a while since I’ve played. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“Right.”
“I hope you’ll give me a rematch,” Meredith said. “Another day.”
“I guess.” Kat’s sideways glance suggested she’d give her a rematch and then some.
Mishka came over and gave Meredith a consoling pat on the back. “You were really good. I thought you were going to win for sure.”
“Did you learn anything about the game by watching us play?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Well, we’ll have to give you lessons,” she told him.
“Now?” His eyes lit up.
“Do you have a racket?”
“No.” He looked hopefully at his sister.
“How about yours, Kat?” Meredith knew the answer before Kat opened her mouth.
“Forget it, brat.” She zipped the expensive racket into its case. “This is my good racket.”
“Well, I don’t even have one—”
“Papa keeps guest rackets in the sports closet,” Kat told Meredith. “George can use an old one.”
“Right. I forgot,” Mishka said happily.
“Why don’t you go find one,” Meredith told him. “But give me a chance to cool off and get a drink before we come back out here.” Mishka took off like a shot, and Meredith and Kat strolled back to the house. “Where’d you learn to play like that?” Meredith asked Kat. “You have a wicked backhand.”
Kat shrugged. “Papa taught me when I was little. I got better at my school. Athletics are big there. And tennis is my favorite. I like it even more than football. But I should be practicing more. I hope to make the junior tennis team after I turn thirteen.”
“Seems like you’re on the right course.”
“But I really love football too.” Kat’s tone was warming up. “I’m not outstanding, but it’s easier to make that team.” She glanced at Meredith. “Are you as good at football?”
Meredith grinned. “I can hold my own in soccer. I haven’t played for a while, but I coached the secondary school girls where I taught these past couple of years.
” She felt slightly wistful to remember the little going away party the teen girls had given her.
Was that only a week ago? “What position do you play?”
“I’ve been stuck playing goalie mostly. I don’t mind so much, but I probably need to work at blocking shots. I read online that there’s a way to study the face of the shooter to know which way she’s aiming. Do you think that’s true?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Want to give it a go later this afternoon?”
“You think you can handle it?” Kat’s tone had a teasing edge now. “Or are you too old and tired?”
Meredith laughed. “Oh, sweetheart! You just wait.”
After a rest and some lunch, served again in the formal dining room, Meredith got a fresh can of tennis balls then took Mishka to the tennis court for a lesson.
The court was in full sun, and after getting winded chasing down all his wildly hit balls, she suggested they take a beverage break and reconvene tomorrow.
“But you’re off to a great start,” she said as they walked back to the house. “Maybe we can try playing with Kat.”
“All three of us?”
“Sure. You and me against her.”
“Yeah! And we could beat her.”
Meredith chuckled to imagine the delight on Kat’s face as she slammed the ball out of Mishka’s reach. “Well, we could certainly try.”
The house felt cool and peaceful, and after they got sodas, Meredith went into the playroom, which still looked like a tornado had swept through. “Do you actually play with all these toys?” She picked up a toddler’s wheeled toy. “Really?”
Mishka laughed. “No, of course not.”
“Then why are they strewn all about like this?”
He looked down at his feet.
“Did you make this mess?”
“Some of it.” He walked over to a table with what looked like a million LEGO bricks splattered across it and onto the floor beneath. “I was building a spaceship the other day, but…Kat destroyed it.”
“Why did she destroy it?” Meredith sat down in one of the child-sized chairs.
“Because Mrs. Warner said to clean up in here or she wouldn’t give us dinner.”
“And…?”
“I wasn’t done building my spaceship, so I wanted to leave it out.
Mrs. Warner wouldn’t have cared if I did.
I picked up some other things, but Kat kept telling me to clean up everything, including all my LEGO pieces.
” He paused before continuing. “But I said ‘no.’ Then she just smashed my spaceship apart.” He scowled.
“I was so mad I threw all the toys all over the place.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “And it was rather fun.”
“Until clean up time?”
He barely nodded.
“Did Mrs. Warner let you have dinner anyway?”
“Yeah. I knew she would. It’s not fair to deprive children of food to punish them. We had a nanny who did that before, and Papa gave her the sack.”
“Do you think Mrs. Warner should have to clean the mess you made in here? Is that fair?”
He shrugged then looked down. “I guess not.”
She set down her soda can. “Should I have to clean it up?”
“No, Meri. It’s not your fault.”
“Oh, good.” She let out a dramatic sigh of relief, playing on his sympathy now. “I’m still pretty worn out from tennis. And I promised to help Kat with football skills in a bit.”
“You play football too?” His eyes lit up.
“Sure. We call it soccer back in the States. But it’s basically the same thing.”
“I asked Papa to teach me, but he’s too busy.”
“Kat could help you.”
He gave her an exasperated look equal to Kat’s eye rolling.
“Yes, I suppose that doesn’t work out too well,” she admitted. “If you didn’t have all these toys to clean up, I’d invite you to play with us. You could work on your own skills while I coach Kat.”
“Really? You’d let me come?”
She waved her hand. “Sure, if you clean this place up.”
“I can do that.”
“Okay, you get this room into good shape then come on outside and join us.” She pointed to a soccer ball in a far corner. “Bring that ball with you.”
“Okay!” He was already down on his knees scooping LEGO pieces into a bright blue plastic storage bin.
“I’m going to speak to Mrs. Warner for a bit. If you see Kat, tell her I’ll meet her out on the field at…” She checked the playroom clock. “About three. Think you’ll be done by then?”
“Uh-huh.” He was still crawling about, eagerly gathering handfuls of the plastic bricks and tossing them into the box.
Pleased that her little bribe was working, she headed to the kitchen to hunt down Mrs. Warner.
Mishka was easy since he seemed convinced that she was wonderful.
She hoped she wouldn’t disappoint him. Having two oppositional children would be a handful.
She found Mrs. Warner putting something into the oven. “Excuse me,” Meredith said quietly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, of course.” She stood, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’m glad you came by. A friend of yours called while you were outside with the children.”
“A friend?”
“The same woman who called me before you first came out here.” Mrs. Warner looked at a notepad. “Yes, here it is. The one from the US Consulate. Carrie—”
“Carrie called here?” Meredith felt a rush of hope. “Did the police recover my stolen property?”
“No, she did mention that nothing has been recovered. And although there’s a rush on your passport, it may take another week or two. Most of all, she wanted to hear how you were doing.” Mrs. Warner smiled. “I told her you were getting on well with the children.”
“Did she want me to call her back?” She grimaced. “Although my phone was stolen along with my other things.”
“No, she didn’t say to call. She was just checking in. Nice sounding woman.”
“Yes, very nice.”
“Now, you wanted something. What can I do for you, miss?”
“I wondered if I’d be allowed to use the laundry facility.
” She pointed to her T-shirt, which would need a good washing by the end of the day.
“You see, with everything stolen, I’m pretty low on clothes.
And all this playing with the children, well, I’m not exactly fresh as a daisy.
” She tugged at her T-shirt with a wrinkled nose.
“Oh, yes, of course. I’m happy to do your wash. Just set your things in the hamper in your bath and I’ll get to it.”
“I don’t expect you to do it, Mrs. Warner. I’m perfectly capable—”
“I’m sure you are. But I don’t allow anyone to use my laundry room but myself. Not even Mr. Warner with his work overalls.” She rubbed her chin. “But you say your wardrobe is limited?”
“All I have are the few pieces I got at a thrift store yesterday.”
“This reminds me that Mr. Spencer asked me to clear out his wife’s closet, and I haven’t been able to get to it. I’m to donate all her clothes and personal things to charity.” Her brows arched. “But you, with no worldly goods, you’re a bit like a charity.”
“I couldn’t wear his deceased wife’s clothes.”
“Goodness, I can’t imagine why not. They’re perfectly nice things. Some of them barely worn. Much better than what you’d find in a thrift store. I should think you’d be grateful to have them.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’d be grateful.” Okay, she wasn’t that sure. “But wouldn’t it upset the children? To see their mother’s clothes worn by someone else?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Surely they won’t remember her clothes. Not after all these years. The missus kept extra clothing here so she and the mister could come on holiday without packing. Come to think of it, the children rarely visited this house back then. Not before the accident.”
“But still.”
Mrs. Warner studied her more closely. “I’d wager you’re a wee bit taller than the princess.
But your build is similar. The clothes she kept here were more casual types.
Not like the fancy outfits she kept at the palace.
I had to clean those out several years ago.
They went to charity too. I just never got around to doing it here.
And the mister needs the extra closet space to get a locking gun cabinet installed.
He believes that firearms should be safely stowed away from the children.
So you’d be doing me a great kindness to take the clothes off my hands.
Then I wouldn’t have to pack them all up and get them hauled to town. ”
“All right. Maybe I could use a few of the pieces. Then, as a thank you, pack up the others for you. You just tell me where to find them, and I’ll work on it after the children are in bed.”
“Yes, we’ll handle that later.”
“Thank you.” Meredith smiled.
“You’re as welcome as the rain.” She began to rinse a bowl in the sink.
“You welcome rain?”
“If you’re a farmer you do. My dad was a farmer.”
“That makes sense.” Meredith lingered a moment, wanting to ask Mrs. Warner more about the deceased princess but unable to think of the right question.
“You seem to be getting on quite well with the children.”
“Mishka is easy enough. But Kat…well, I suspect you know.”
“Oh, yes, I know. But I do think you’re making a wee bit of progress with her. I can see it in her eyes when she doesn’t think you’re looking. So whatever you’re doing, keep it up. I think you’ll win her over.”
“Speaking of Kat, I promised to play some football with her this afternoon. I better get at it.”
“Mind you, listen for the dinner bell. I always give the children thirty minutes notice so they can clean up properly.” She pointed to Meredith’s aromatic T-shirt. “And I don’t doubt you’ll need that much time yourself.”
Meredith laughed. “Or more. Feel free to ring it sooner if you like. I wouldn’t mind a nice soak in the bath after all this exercise.”
“Then I’ll give you an hour’s notice.” Mrs. Warner set the clean bowl aside.
Meredith thanked her again and, although she would like to ask her a lot more questions—about the children’s parents and royalty and protocol…
and so many other things—it was almost three o’clock.
Her questions could wait. In the meantime, she’d have to be content with playing undercover detective, fishing out bits and pieces of information from the prince and princess as best she could.