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‘You’re not selling this, you know.’
‘I know.’ Cal sighed. ‘I’m not going to lie to you. The kids are hard work. I don’t understand them, and I don’t think they even want to be understood. Plus, the castle might actually be haunted—but you’ll be long gone by Halloween, so hopefully that won’t be an issue.’
‘I don’t believe in ghosts.’ There were enough things in the real world to be terrified of, Heather had found, without adding a whole new fictional layer of fear.
‘Even better.’ Cal gave her a small smile—maybe the first she’d seen from him. It made him look younger, lighter. And even more handsome. ‘The bottom line is, if you stay you can get to know your baby’s family. And we can get to know you. You might decide you want nothing to do with us afterwards, but at least you’ll have the information to make that decision with. And I’ll get to help you financially without it being underhand or dodgy.’
‘No one else will know why I’m really here?’ Heather asked. That was important. ‘I haven’t... You’re the only person who knows about the baby.’
He looked a little surprised at that. ‘No one else will hear about it from me,’ he promised.
And against her better judgement Heather believed him.
Six weeks. Six weeks to figure out what she wanted to do next and earn the money to pay for it. Six weeks to figure out how to admit to her father how badly she’d screwed up. To steel herself against his disappointment and upset.
Nannies were practically servants, right? And servants were prized for being invisible. Heather liked being invisible. If people didn’t see you they were less likely to talk about you, taunt you or humiliate you.
She’d spent her childhood being part of the most talked about family in her small village. Here she could be completely anonymous—despite the scandal she carried inside her.
Six weeks.
How hard could that be?
She nodded. ‘Okay.’
CHAPTER THREE
CAL HARDLY LET her get the word out before he pressed a button on the phone on his desk and called Mrs Peterson.
‘Is she staying?’ his housekeeper asked bluntly through the speakerphone. ‘Or do I need to call another taxi? Only you know how much Harris hates driving all the way up here every time you lose another nanny. He’ll be on his lunch break now, anyway.’
She made it sound as if he was misplacing them somewhere, in the nooks and crannies of the cavernous castle. As if they weren’t actually running out through the front door without looking back.
The last one hadn’t even waited for Harris—the driver of Lengroth village’s only taxi—to show up. She’d walked the three miles to the station instead.
‘Miss Reid is staying with us,’ Cal said smugly.
‘Reid?’ He could almost hear Mrs Peterson’s eyebrows rising. ‘I thought the agency said her name was Thomas?’
Damn. He wasn’t good at subterfuge. But he’d have to get better quickly if he was going to disguise his brother’s pregnant mistress as a nanny for the next month and a half.
‘A mix-up at the agency, it seems. Our new nanny is Miss Heather Reid.’
‘I’ve stopped bothering to learn their names,’ Mrs Peterson replied. ‘Did the agency get the time of the interview wrong, too?’
‘Yes. Yes, they did.’ Mrs Peterson valued promptness highly, and what was one more little white lie if it smoothed the relationship between the nanny and the housekeeper of Lengroth Castle? ‘In fact, Miss Reid was technically fifteen minutes early.’
‘Hmph.’
Across the desk, Heather was looking most amused by his attempts to pacify his housekeeper. He resisted the urge to toss the rubber duck at her to stop her silent laughter.
‘So if you could please come up to the office and take Miss Reid for a tour of the castle, and to meet the children...?’
There was a loud sigh on the speakerphone. ‘I suppose,’ she said, and then the line went dead.
‘Mrs Peterson is not a big fan of nannies?’ Heather asked.
‘To be honest, the last few we’ve had haven’t really tried to endear themselves to her.’ Cal tried to smile reassuringly. ‘Mrs Peterson is a sweetheart when you get to know her, I promise.’
