Chapter 9
Twenty minutes later, I was waiting on the doorstep of Ashington Manor.
‘Hi, Dawkins. Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to drop these off for Lady Penelope, for being so kind last night.’ I held out the flowers.
‘Lady Penelope is in. I’m sure she would be most pleased to see you, Miss Emmeline.’
‘Oh no, I don’t think—’
‘Is that you, Emmeline?’ Lady Penelope sailed down the hall towards us. ‘Come in, come in! Don’t let her stand out on the steps, Dawkins.’
‘No, milady.’
‘Oh, I was really just popping by to drop these off.’ I offered up the bouquet.
Penelope took it with one hand and me with the other.
‘These are lovely!’ She buried her nose momentarily in the mixed bunch I’d bought. ‘Beautiful! Do come in for a drinky-poo. I was just about to have one.’
‘I…’
Penelope looked momentarily disheartened and I hated being the cause.
‘OK. Just a small one but I really must get back for an early night.’
She clasped my hand. ‘Oh, goody! Come through, come through.’ She led me back up the corridor. Dawkins scuttled ahead of us and opened the door to a large, but somehow cosy, room.
‘This is beautiful!’ I said, looking around at the pale-yellow walls filled with oil paintings in ornate gold frames.
‘Yes, it’s a favourite room of mine. Do sit down. Gin and tonic?’
‘No, I’m fine, really.’
‘You must have something. Small glass of bubbles?’
I made the mistake of hesitating.
‘Wonderful! Dawkins, two glasses, please.’
He gave a tiny nod and withdrew from the room, the bouquet in one hand.
‘How has your first day been?’
‘Great, thanks.’
‘Oh, you big fibber!’ She laughed that wonderful, hearty laugh. ‘Barney told me he got you in trouble already.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Not that sort of trouble! But you know what I mean. He means well. Loves to live life.’
‘It’s what it’s there for. I like him and, don’t tell Isaac, but between you and me, it was the most fun part of my day.’
‘You seemed like you were having fun on your lunch break.’ The deep voice made us both start.
‘Edward! Where did you pop up from?’
‘Through there.’ He pointed at the door left slightly ajar. ‘As usual.’
His mother gave him an eye roll then tilted her cheek for a kiss, which he obliged.
‘What happened on your lunch break then?’ Penelope leant forward, eager for gossip.
‘Nothing at all,’ I said a little too quickly.
Penelope’s eyebrows raised. ‘This sounds interesting.’
‘It’s really not.’ I shot Edward a look. I liked Penelope and I didn’t want my calling her son names to come across as disrespectful to her. ‘Lord Ashington is trying to tease me, I think.’
‘Is he now?’ Penelope’s brows raised a little higher.
‘Lord Fancy-Pants wouldn’t dream of it.’
Git.
His mother let out an unladylike snort of laughter. ‘Lord what?’
‘I’d better be going!’ I stood up to leave but she grabbed my hand.
‘Not at all. The drinks will be here any moment.’
Dawkins appeared on cue like a genie, wheeling in a small cart which bore a solid silver ice bucket in which was cradled a bottle of Cristal champagne and three glasses.
‘Good evening, sir. I saw you come in and took the liberty of bringing you a glass also.’
‘Thank you, Dawkins.’ Edward turned to his mother. ‘Are we celebrating something?’
‘Yes,’ she said, nodding at Dawkins to do the honours. ‘The fact that I have someone to chat with.’
‘You have plenty of friends, Mother.’
‘I think what your son is saying is that you don’t need to stoop to inviting in the under-gardener.’
‘That wasn’t what I was saying at all, Miss Buchanan.’
I took the glass from Dawkins, thanking him. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘No.’
I was teasing but Edward was rather more vehement in his denial than I had expected.
‘Cheers!’ Lady Penelope held out her glass and we clinked, me especially gently. The lamps made the cut crystal sparkle and I was pretty sure I couldn’t nip to Dunelm to get a replacement if I was a bit heavy-handed.
‘May I pour one for you, sir?’
‘Evening!’ Barnaby bounded through the door. ‘Ooh! Love one, thanks, Dawkins.’ He swiped the spare glass and held it for the butler to expertly pour. ‘Nice to see you, Emmeline. Hope you didn’t get into too much trubs with Isaac about the whole golf-cart thing.’
‘What golf-cart thing and who’s Lord Fancy-Pants? I do wish someone would tell me what’s going on!’ Penelope took a dainty sip.
‘Would you like me to fetch another glass, sir?’ Dawkins asked.
‘Oh, come on, Lord Fancy-Pants!’ He said, egging his brother on. ‘You know you want to.’
‘It’s you then?’ Penelope turned to Edward. ‘I mean, I’m assuming it was—’
‘Thank you, Mother.’
She waved a hand. ‘You know what I mean. You are, technically, the only actual lord here. What I’m dying to know is who bestowed the name on you?
’ Her gaze, full of mischief, flicked briefly to me.
It was easy to see where Barnaby got his personality from; playful and easily underestimated as beneath their exteriors, both were as sharp as Ray Mears’ bush knife.
‘It was a joke.’ I pulled a face. ‘Obviously, he wasn’t supposed to hear me.’
‘Obviously,’ Edward followed drily. Having accepted Dawkins’ offer, he was now sipping the wine.
‘Oh! What a hoot! I knew I liked you.’ Penelope laughed, tipping her glass towards me. ‘Isaac’s lovely, of course, but can be a little serious at times. It’ll do him good to have a bit of fun. About time he found a lady friend to cheer him up.’
The three of us looked at her.
‘I don’t mean you, darling.’
‘Good. Because that’s definitely not going to happen.’
‘Not your type?’ Penelope asked as Dawkins made his way to her side to top up her glass before she even noticed it was getting low. I wondered if I could put ‘butler’ on my Christmas list.
‘Not especially, although I’m not actually sure I have a type. But— Thank you.’ I noticed Dawkins was now stealthily refilling my own glass. ‘It’s just that he’s my boss.’
‘Technically, I’m your boss,’ Edward said, taking a seat in a large, regal, but comfortable-looking armchair. He stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles.
‘Fine. He’s my immediate boss. I’m not doing that.’
Barney sniggered.
‘Grow up, Barns.’ Edward spoke the words but I could have sworn I saw a flicker of amusement deep in those amber eyes. He gave a slow, almost bored blink and I decided I must have been mistaken.
‘Plus, he hates me.’
‘Darling, he doesn’t hate you. He’s a bit like that with everyone.’
‘You know he was making her shovel the muck up to the formal garden, barrow by barrow?’ Barnaby gently swiped the bottle off Dawkins and topped up his glass.
The amusement drained from Lady Penelope’s face. ‘What?’
‘I’ve had words. Back to normal procedure tomorrow.’
‘I should bloody well think so. Edward? What’s Isaac playing at? Do you think you need to speak to him?’
‘Please don’t!’ I turned to Edward. ‘He already isn’t the keenest on me and if he thinks I’ve gone running to you, it won’t go down well. Plus, as your brother said, it’s all going to be back to normal tomorrow.’
Edward remained silent.
‘Look. I’m sorry I called you Lord Fancy-Pants. I was only mucking about, but please don’t say anything to Isaac.’ I took all of them in in a rather desperate glance. ‘Please?’
‘Are you sure, Emmeline?’
‘I am, Lady Penelope. Entirely.’
She exchanged a look with her eldest son and he gave a small shrug.
‘If she doesn’t want me to say anything, who am I to disagree?’
‘Lord Fancy-Pants, apparently,’ Barnaby muttered as an aside to his mother, who immediately burst out laughing.
‘I’m thrilled you all find it so amusing.’ Edward’s words were directed at his family but his eyes pinned me to the spot.
I straightened my back. I’d apologised once and I wasn’t going to beg. He shouldn’t have been listening to a private conversation anyway.
‘Very well.’ Edward pushed himself up from the chair and took a couple of slow, deliberate steps towards me.
I shifted my weight, attempting to look unimpressed but the problem was, when you looked at him, objectively, he was actually rather impressive.
And super hot. Which was inconvenient but on the other hand, also irrelevant.
As I’d already stated, romance in a work setting was most certainly not what I was here for.
Not that Isaac, or Edward come to think of it, were in the slightest bit interested in me bearing in mind I’d managed to alienate both of them within forty-eight hours.
Freddy, on the other hand, had reluctantly admitted Isaac was pretty hot when I’d finally sent her a pic I’d snuck before I went insane from her asking.
Although, due to his arsey-ness towards me, she had agreed that his beauty clearly was only skin deep.
‘Miss Buchanan?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Don’t say sorry, say what,’ Barnaby trilled in a sing-song voice.
‘Sorry?’ I said, again.
‘Ignore him,’ Edward told me. ‘As you’ve no doubt already noticed, my brother thinks himself quite the card.’
I placed my glass down on a side table, making sure there was a coaster beneath it.
‘I’m sorry if I’ve said the wrong thing,’ I replied, feeling suddenly small and embarrassed. A whole barrage of other words were tumbling through my mind and eager to escape my mouth but right now, I needed this job. ‘I must get back to the cottage now. I have an early start tomorrow.’
‘Emmeline, please.’ Edward’s hand caught my wrist as I made to leave. ‘Barnaby. Apologise. Now.’
His brother’s eyebrows shot up.
‘Oh, Barney,’ his mother sighed.
‘What?’
‘You’ve upset Emmeline.’
‘No. Really, I’m fine. I just need to get back. I only planned to drop the flowers off anyway and not stay.’
‘Please, it’s clear you’re upset.’