Pregnant on the Earl's Doorstep, page 4
‘She doesn’t look like the other nannies,’ Ryan said, eyeing her with suspicion.
His dark hair was curled over his forehead, so like his father’s and his uncle’s that Heather felt a pang of sympathy all over again.
Mrs Peterson looked at Heather and sighed. ‘No. No, she doesn’t.’
‘Maybe that means I’ll last longer than they did,’ Heather replied, a little archly.
Mrs Peterson’s mouth flickered into something that might almost, almost be considered a smile. If she squinted. The almost smile was gone so quickly that Heather wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t imagined it.
‘Daisy. Come and say hello to Miss Reid.’
Over at the window, looking out over the very steps Heather had climbed to get into the castle, sat Daisy. She must take after her mother, Heather decided, given the pale mousy hair, braided into thin plaits that hung over her thinner shoulders. There was nothing about Daisy that spoke of the broad-shouldered confidence the Bryce men seemed to be born with.
Then she turned away from the window to face Heather and pierced her with sharp, intelligent amber eyes that were all her Uncle Cal.
‘Nannies don’t wear baggy jumpers,’ she said, looking Heather up and down. ‘Or trainers.’
‘Well, this one does,’ Heather said cheerfully.
These kids had better get used to her wardrobe, since she hadn’t brought anything smart in her small rucksack. In fact, she hadn’t brought much of anything. A single change of clothing, her phone charger, that sort of thing. She hadn’t been planning on staying, after all. She’d have to find out if Cal’s generous employment deal included an advance for suitable work wear.
‘I’ll leave you to it, then, Miss Reid,’ Mrs Peterson said, as if she were saying, I hope the lions don’t eat you, but they probably will.
‘Heather, please,’ she tried one last time, but Mrs Peterson ignored her.
‘Dinner is at six in the dining hall,’ she added, closing the door behind her.
Heather looked at the children. The children looked at Heather, clearly waiting for her to break first.
They’d broken eight different nannies, Heather remembered uncomfortably. But they wouldn’t break her. Because Heather knew something that they didn’t.
They were family. Or they would be once this baby was born. And if Heather had learned one thing from her taunting, scandal-ridden childhood, it was this: you never ran out on family.
‘Right,’ she said, clapping her hands together à la Mary Poppins. ‘Mrs Peterson has shown me all around the inside of the castle—how about you two show me around outside?’
Daisy and Ryan exchanged a look that Heather couldn’t read.
‘Outside?’ Daisy asked suspiciously, as if there had to be a catch somewhere.
‘Yep. I saw some great-looking woodland on my way in—I bet that’s fun to explore.’ She shot a sideways look at Daisy, who was trying to communicate something to her brother using only her eyebrows. ‘Plus, I understand that the castle moat has some very unusual ducks in it.’
Ryan stifled a snigger at that, while Daisy glared at him so hard that Heather thought lasers might shoot out of her eyes.
‘Come on! It’s summer. You two should be outside, enjoying the glorious sunshine.’ Heather glanced out of the window. ‘But grab your wellies on the way, yeah?’
They were in Scotland, after all.
* * *
The dining hall at Lengroth Castle was large, cold, prone to damp and currently mostly empty.
From the head of the oversized table Cal stared down at the vacant seats arranged around him. Alone, it was almost too easy for him to remember them occupied by Ross, or their parents. Even society’s brightest and best, in the castle’s heyday, before his father’s rages had taken greater hold and entertaining had become just too risky.
Right now, though, all that was missing was his niece, his nephew and his new nanny.
‘Dinner will be cold,’ Mrs Peterson said, speaking volumes with her tone.
With just those four innocent words, Cal knew exactly what she was really asking.
Who is this Miss Reid? Why is she here? Do you really expect me to believe that the local agency sent her, with an accent like that? And, most importantly, What has she done with the children?
‘I’m sure they’ll be here soon,’ Cal said, as mildly as he could. ‘Miss Reid seems like a very responsible person.’ Apart from sleeping with strange, married earls she met in London bars. ‘And her references are impeccable.’
She was practically family, after all. And if Cal’s parents had taught him anything about family it was that they knew where the bodies were buried, so you had to keep them close.
‘Hmm...’ Mrs Peterson said, speaking volumes once more with just one noise.
Suddenly the huge, wooden door of the castle crashed open.
‘Sorry we’re late!’
Heather’s English tones rang through the castle corridors, probably reaching them a good thirty seconds after she spoke, due to the distance from the door to the dining room. Clearly she had some lungs on her.
‘Where’s the damn...? I mean, Daisy, where’s the dining room?’
The last was quieter, but sound carried well in the castle. Something Cal had had reason to curse plenty of times in his life.
‘I think they’re here,’ Cal said redundantly, and Mrs Peterson gave him a look that suggested that, given their joint ability to state the obvious, he and Miss Reid deserved each other.
‘I’m so sorry!’ Heather gasped as she and the children barrelled through the big double doors at one end of the dining hall. Not the end nearest to the front door, Cal noticed, which meant that Ryan had been playing his usual trick of trying to get the new nanny disorientated and lost.
He blinked as he took in the full impact of their appearance. Behind him Mrs Peterson made a faint noise of either astonishment, disgust, or both.
Mud was dripping from Heather’s nose. And her hair. And her sodden jumper. The skirt of her sundress was caked in mud, and there were twigs in her cascading copper hair.
Daisy and Ryan were suspiciously clean by comparison.
Cal surveyed his niece and nephew, both of whom appeared to be working hard at maintaining an air of innocence. Then he met Heather’s gaze and saw there a determination and steeliness that surprised him with its depth.
It’s going to take more than a fall in the river to scare this one off, kids.
At least, that was what he assumed had happened. It was what they’d done to nanny number three, anyway. There was a stretch where the bridge didn’t quite reach the far bank—not since the river had swelled and burst its banks the winter before. It was simple enough to jump to safety via the stepping stones on the other side, but only if you knew to look for them. If you weren’t paying proper attention when you reached the end of the bridge—say if an evil child was distracting you by dangling from a tree, or something—it was easy to miss the fact that the bridge basically gave way to a river of mud.
‘Miss Reid, perhaps you would like to freshen up before dinner?’ Mrs Peterson said, as if Heather had merely a smudge of dust on her nose or something.
Ryan snorted. Daisy, as ever, remained implacable. The girl was definitely her mother’s daughter, Cal decided. Janey must have known what Ross was really like—what was going on behind her back. But he’d never seen a glimpse of it in her calm, serene expression.
Heather gave a grateful smile. ‘I won’t be long. Children, why don’t you come with me? We can all change for dinner.’
‘But we’re not muddy,’ Ryan protested.
They hadn’t eaten since lunch, what with the impromptu nature ramble Heather had taken them on, so Cal assumed the boy must be starving. He knew he was.
‘The great outdoors is full of all sorts of germs, though,’ Heather said airily. ‘You definitely need to wash before you eat. Maybe even have a bath...’
There was a wicked twinkle in her eye. One Cal approved of mightily.
‘But our dinner will get cold,’ Daisy said, perfectly reasonably.
Heather pulled an expression of regretful sorrow Cal was almost sure was fake.
‘I know—I’m so sorry. So clumsy of me to slip in the mud on the bridge. If only I’d known that the bridge ended short of the riverbank I wouldn’t have spent so long flailing around in the mud, waiting for you two to come down from the trees and help me up. And then we wouldn’t have been late for dinner.’
She flashed a quick smile at Cal and Mrs Peterson.
‘All my fault, you see. But the children and I really must clean ourselves up before dinner. Please, don’t wait for us, though.’
She ushered the children out of the dining room, Ryan still grumbling as they went. Cal watched them go, smiling. This might all work out a lot better than even he had planned.
‘I make that one to Miss Reid and nil to Daisy and Ryan,’ Mrs Peterson murmured softly.
Cal glanced up to see that the older woman had a small smile on her face. One he didn’t think he’d seen since he’d returned for Ross’s funeral.
‘I think you’re right,’ he replied. ‘Now, do you think we can reheat dinner?’
CHAPTER FOUR
THE ENFORCED PRE-DINNER baths hadn’t made Heather any more popular with the children—or with Cal and Mrs Peterson, she imagined, since they’d both waited to eat with them. But then falling in a muddy riverbank hadn’t really endeared Daisy, Ryan or Lengroth Castle itself to Heather, so she didn’t feel too bad about it.
If nothing else, she’d shown the children that their actions had consequences.
It seemed to be working—for now, anyway. And by the time Heather was showered and changed—and thank heaven for whoever had upgraded the castle plumbing, even if they hadn’t given her an en suite bathroom—the children were also scrubbed and dressed.
‘Great!’ she said, eyeing the bathroom that linked the children’s bedrooms—which she was almost certain classified as en suite, whatever Mrs Peterson said. ‘Now, if you just pick up those wet towels and put your dirty clothes in the washing basket we can all get some dinner.’
Her stomach rumbled and she hoped the kids didn’t hear it. Hunger was a sign of weakness. She couldn’t afford to show any more weakness in front of them now they’d seen her flailing around in the mud, helpless.
There were mutters and glares, but the towels were picked up. Heather held in a smile. They were getting somewhere.
Back down in the dining room Heather had expected to find Cal gone, sure that he’d have already eaten. But instead he and Mrs Peterson were waiting for them, and as they appeared in the doorway, pink from scrubbing, hair sleek and still wet, she disappeared to the kitchen to get the food.
Cal raised an eyebrow at her and Heather was suddenly very aware that she probably didn’t look much older than Daisy, with her copper hair in two heavy, wet plaits that hung over her shoulders. There hadn’t been time to dry it, even though the castle still held a chill, despite it being the middle of summer.
She slipped into the chair at the place setting furthest away from him, and watched to make sure that the children took their seats nicely, too.
Perhaps they were worn out from fighting her all afternoon, because they sat down without any fuss at all. Or perhaps they were just saving their energy for a renewed resistance tomorrow.
Mrs Peterson returned with hot plates and a dinner of pie and vegetables, which Heather devoured happily. Across the table she could see Daisy passing Ryan her meat and taking his vegetables in return, but since they both ate plenty she decided to pick her battles.
They ate mostly in silence. Heather had many questions she wanted to ask, but not in front of the children. Besides, she got the impression that Mrs Peterson would be scandalised by most of the things she wanted to know.
She wanted to know more about the father of her child. Was that so unusual?
There was pudding after the pie—some sort of sloppy custard thing that the children and Cal ate happily but that renewed Heather’s pregnancy sickness with a vengeance. She pushed the bowl away and hoped she didn’t look too green. Mrs Peterson pulled an offended face, but Heather was pretty sure she’d have been more offended if she’d eaten it and then thrown it up again.
God, she was tired. This day had already been so much longer than she’d anticipated, and she’d barely had any time alone to process the events of it. It didn’t look as if she was going to get any time to herself just yet, either. After all, there was still bedtime to get through, and she couldn’t see Daisy and Ryan going quietly to sleep.
Cal was watching her, she realised as she looked up from the bowl of pudding. No, not watching. Studying. She tried to sit up straighter, and even contemplated taking an actual mouthful of dessert until a strong wave of nausea told her not even to think about it.
‘Mrs Peterson,’ Cal said suddenly. ‘As Miss Reid has already bathed and changed the children into their pyjamas, perhaps you could supervise bedtime tonight? I have some contract issues to discuss with Miss Reid.’
Heather shot him a grateful smile as Mrs Peterson agreed and ushered the children out of the dining room, making them pause in the doorway to say a dutiful but insincere goodnight.
And then it was just the two of them.
‘You look dead on your feet,’ Cal said.
Heather didn’t bother to deny it.
‘Come on. We’ll go through to my sitting room. I need a brandy. And you can have...something else,’ he said, vaguely, obviously remembering that alcohol was not on the menu for her for the next seven months. Longer, if she breastfed.
In fact, given what had happened the last time she’d drunk alcohol, Heather rather thought she might give it up all together. Just to be on the safe side.
Cal’s sitting room was warm, cosy and welcoming in a way that nowhere else in the castle Heather had seen so far had managed. She curled up in the armchair near the unlit fireplace, and pulled a blanket over her knees more for comfort than warmth.
Cal handed her a glass of something frosty and misty before pouring himself a brandy.
Heather cautiously took a sip. It was delicious.
‘Home-made elderflower cordial and sparkling water,’ Cal said, taking his own seat opposite her. ‘Mrs Peterson makes it.’
‘It’s lovely.’ Heather took another sip.
‘Better with champagne,’ Cal replied. ‘But under the circumstances... Speaking of which—what happened by the river? You didn’t hurt yourself or the baby? I should have asked before... Do you want me to take you to the hospital to get checked? I’ll be honest, I don’t really know how these things work.’
Heather smiled at his concern. ‘Neither do I, really. But I didn’t fall hard or anything. Just slipped into the mud at the end of the bridge. More embarrassing than painful—which I imagine was just what the children intended.’
‘Probably,’ Cal admitted. ‘So you don’t need the hospital?’
Heather shook her head. ‘I’m fine.’ Then a thought occurred to her and she frowned. ‘But I do need to transfer my medical care up here if I’m staying. To keep up my midwife appointments and scans and what have you.’ She hadn’t even thought about that side of things when she’d agreed to Cal’s deal.
‘And are you?’ he asked, pausing with his glass halfway to his lips as he waited for her answer.
Heather frowned. ‘Am I what?’
‘Staying.’
* * *
Cal had no idea what he was going to do if she said no now. Of course she’d been happy to take his deal before she’d met the kids. But an afternoon with Daisy and Ryan—not to mention Mrs Peterson’s disapproving gaze—might well have changed her mind.
But if she could put up with a mud dunking from his niece and nephew, maybe she’d be strong enough to stick it out. To be honest, she already seemed to have more control over them after one afternoon than some of the previous nannies had had after a week or more.
Heather was the right person for this job—Cal could feel it. And not just because she was a scandalous time bomb waiting to explode.
She still hadn’t answered. That was a bad sign, right? Or maybe she was just making very sure of her answer. She didn’t seem like the impulsive type—her encounter with Ross notwithstanding.
Finally she nodded, and Cal let out the breath he’d been holding and took a celebratory sip of his brandy.
‘I’m staying,’ Heather confirmed. ‘Which means there’s a lot of things we need to sort out.’
‘I can give you the details of our family doctor. He’s been looking after the Bryces for decades.’ And keeping their secrets. ‘He’ll look after you. It’s only for six weeks, after all.’
How many appointments would she need in that time anyway?
‘I suppose... But my twelve-week scan is due soon. I’ll need to get that moved to the nearest hospital with a maternity unit. Which is...?’
‘Edinburgh, I imagine,’ Cal replied, thankful possibly for the first time for the remote location and lack of facilities at Lengroth. At least in Edinburgh he was unlikely to be recognised and asked a lot of awkward questions. ‘We’ll get Dr Harvey to book it for you, and I’ll take you down to the city for it.’
She looked surprised at his offer. ‘Thank you.’
Cal shifted uncomfortably under her grateful gaze. ‘Of course. It’s only right. Now, what else do you need now you’re staying?’
‘Clothes,’ Heather said, pulling a face. ‘Probably maternity ones before too long, I suppose. Um...teaching materials for the children? Do they have laptops? I didn’t bring mine, and it would be good to get them to do some online tests and figure out where they’re at with their learning.’
‘Can online quizzes test cunning and guile?’ Cal asked. ‘Because they’d probably ace those.’
