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‘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.
