“It’s the house,” Willie stated. “It doesn’t like strangers. It’ll get used to you though.”
Julia lost all composure and gaped at her nephew open-mouthed as Ruby giggled.
Lizzie had no response.
“What?” Julia asked.
Willie cut his eyes to Douglas and took a big bite of toast.
“Nothin’,” he muttered and Julia decided after her behaviour last night it was prudent to drop the subject.
Mrs. Kilpatrick swept in, deposited poached eggs, two crisp rashers of bacon and fresh toast in front of Douglas and swept out, not making a sound throughout the entire exercise.
Julia stared hungrily at his plate and wondered what she had to do to get eggs and bacon for breakfast (especially when she couldn’t even get in the kitchen to make it for herself) as she took another mouthful of oatmeal. At that point, she’d sell her soul for just one rasher of bacon.
“This weekend,” Douglas started as he poured himself some coffee out of the silver service, “we’ll all go to London. You four can go sightseeing during the day and Saturday night, Julia, I’d like you to attend an art opening with me.”
Julia had barely stopped gaping at Willie only to turn and gape at Douglas.
“I’m sorry?” she asked after she forced herself to stop gaping.
Her question was lost in loud whoops from Willie, the volume of which surprised even Julia considering the careful quiet the children and servants observed constantly.
“London! Wicked!” Willie declared, pumping his arm like he was a trucker repeatedly blowing his horn.
Ruby decided this was a good indication that she, too, could get excited and she let out childish screech of delight.
“Elizabeth, would you like to go to London?” Douglas quietly asked his niece.
Surprisingly, Lizzie answered.
“Kensington Palace, where Diana’s dresses are?” she inquired of her bowl of porridge, not lifting her head to look at her uncle.
“If that’s what you’d like,” Douglas told Lizzie and turned back to Julia. “Take Veronika as well, so you won’t be overburdened.”
And with that, the weekend plans were made with Julia only being able to utter two, unacknowledged words in the process. Julia wondered if Veronika might have plans of her own but she decided not to ask as clearly, to Douglas, it didn’t matter.
She wanted to say something about not wanting to go to London, but rather wanting to sleep in and get used to her new home and not traipse around an unfamiliar, bustling city. Or, she wanted to say something about wanting a pot of jam or a sugar bowl on the table, because at the very least she took sugar in her coffee, not to mention her oatmeal. Or she wanted to say something about how it might be a good idea for Douglas to speak to her about these ideas before he presented them to the children.
But then she noticed Ruby.
The little girl was staring over Julia’s shoulder and out the window.
Julia turned to see if it was Carter who had caught the child’s attention but when she looked, she saw nothing.
When she turned back to the child, Ruby was waving.
Julia, again, looked out the window and saw nothing.
“Ruby,” she called, “who are you waving at?”
“Ruby has an imaginary friend,” Willie replied, clearly the speaker for the group.
“He is not imaginary,” Ruby fired back. “He’s standing right there at the window, looking at Auntie Jewel.”
A chill slid down Julia’s spine as she turned again to peer out the window.
“I don’t see nothin’,” Willie declared.
“Anything,” Julia corrected distractedly, still seeing nothing.
“I don’t see anything,” Willie amended, overly sweet and teasing Ruby by bugging his eyes out to her.
“He’s right there and he’s my friend. He likes me. And he likes Auntie Jewel,” Ruby shot back.
“That’s enough, Ruby. Eat,” Douglas ordered and without a word, little Ruby obeyed, but then, at that tone of voice, a Marine Sergeant would have obeyed.
Mrs. K came back in and announced that Carter was ready to take the children to school.
They all, even Ruby, rushed from their seats, leaving their dirty dishes on the table and heading out the door.
“Hang on a second…” Julia called and they stopped. “The dishes…” she started to say but was interrupted.
“The staff see to the dishes, Julia,” Douglas reminded her.
Julia made another Herculean effort at control. She had not been raised to leave her dirty dishes on the table and she knew neither Tamsin nor Gavin had raised their children to leave their dishes. They’d had a nanny, to be certain, Gavin travelled a great deal. They also had a maid, who came in three days a week, and why not, Tamsin was rich. But the children were only half-aristocrat. The other half, both Gavin and Tamsin had assured, were polite, courteous, well-behaved Midwesterners.
Momentarily defeated, Julia changed tactics. “Well then, I want kisses. You aren’t walking out of here without giving me kisses.”
Willie rolled his eyes and slouched forward, making a show of hating every second and pecked her cheek so quickly he appeared to be going for a world record. Lizzie didn’t rush forward either but did as she was told. They both ran out of the room as Julia caught Ruby in a hug and lavished the child’s face with kisses as she squirmed and giggled.
“Off with you, Ruby-girl, say good-bye to your brother and sister for me,” Julia said.
With that, Ruby dashed out of the room.
Left alone with Douglas, Julia was at a loss, so she stared longingly at his breakfast.
“I thought…” he began and then stopped, regarded her for a moment then he continued politely. “Would you like for me to ask Mrs. Kilpatrick to make you some eggs?”
Flustered, she stopped staring and took another spoonful of porridge.
“No, no, I love oatmeal! Yum, yum,” she lied and was about to put the spoon in her mouth when a masculine hand came into her sight, its fingers clamped on her spoon and it was firmly pulled out of her grasp by Douglas.
Stunned, she watched as he dropped the spoon into her bowl and removed the bowl from her place setting. He then set his plate of food in front of her.
Julia could not believe what he’d just done and couldn’t think of a thing to say to him. It was his house and she was a guest there, but still, the arrogance! She tried to think of some way of responding to his outrageous behaviour and decided diplomacy was best.
“I can’t…” she started only to be interrupted again.
“You can and you will,” he commanded, dipping his head to her plate, his gaze firm on her face and she found herself too tired, too stunned and too hungry (and maybe a bit too chicken), to argue.
Therefore, she tucked into the food.
“Sunday evening, when we get back from the city, I’d like to have a talk about our arrangement,” Douglas announced.
She took a bite of bacon and watched him. He showed no signs of anything, no emotion, no sadness at his sister’s passing. Last night he got home late after a day of whatever it was that he did, and was up again, early, dressed and ready to go back to whatever it was and he looked like he just left a spa.
“Julia?” Now he no longer looked emotionless, he looked impatient.
“Yes, that’s fine. That’s a good idea. I look forward to that.” She was babbling.
“Good.” He took a last sip of his coffee and threw down his napkin. “I’ll see you Saturday evening.”
She nearly choked again.
Saturday evening!
“Saturday evening… but it’s Wednesday!” she cried.