AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It took them a few minutes to reach the “house,” an enormous mansion of red bricks, flanked by red brick wings of different heights and styles. Cara counted at least eight or nine chimneys across the expansive roof.
“Wow,” she said under her breath. “That’s a house?”
“Impressive, isn’t it? Wait until you see the inside. You are doing the tour, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t purchase tickets.”
“That’s a shame. The oldest part of the manor is Elizabethan, but it’s now hidden by the Georgian façade, 1740s, I believe.”
Almost three hundred years ago. The United States was just another British colony then.
He pulled behind the huge house, a house far bigger than many hotels, parking in a gravel lot, in front of a small cottage adjacent to a long brick building with a similar façade to the manor.
“How gorgeous everything is,” Cara murmured, climbing from the car.
“That was the old coach house and stables,” he said, “and now the Sherbournes’ garage. The cottage used to be where thestable master lived, but it’s been converted into a small office and afternoon teahouse for the Christmas house tours.” He removed her suitcase from the trunk and set it on the gravel close to the front door of the cottage. “Not sure who is in the office right now, but I’m confident they can steer you in the right direction. We’ve always dealt with the real estate agents, Harry or Susan, but they’re not here at Langley at the moment.”
“That’s alright. I’ll get it sorted out. Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it,” she said.
He lifted his hand in a farewell and was back in his car, doing a U-turn, heading back the way they’d just come. She watched him a moment before trying the door of the office. It opened and a rather serious-looking woman appeared from a back room. “Can I help you?” she said.
“I was booked into Holiday Cottage Two, the Gamekeeper’s Cottage, but when I arrived it was already occupied. I’m not sure where I’m supposed to be now. My name is Cara Roberts. I’m here through December twenty-seventh.”
The woman’s expression never changed. “I’m not involved in any of the cottage bookings. I’m with the Bakewell Heritage Council, and the Bakewell Women’s Guild. I oversee the holiday tours at the Park. We’re closed today, but will open on Thursday.”
The woman’s tone was very stiff, and rather unfriendly, but she was close to Cara’s age and Cara could be equally tenacious. “I’m not here for the tours. I’m supposed to be staying in a cottage, for Christmas.” Cara’s fatigue made her voice a little sharp. It had been a planes-trains-automobile day and she was ready to relax. “Is there someone else who could help me? Someone at the house?”
“It’s a private house.”
“I understand, but they own the cottages, yes?”
“Do you have paperwork? Booking information?”
Cara pulled out the creased paper from her purse yet again and handed it to the woman who read it slowly, and very thoroughly. Cara tried not to shift from foot to foot but her legs ached and her head throbbed, and Christmas in Bakewell no longer sounded quite as charming as it had sitting in her comfortable apartment in Bellingham where her father was a dean in the engineering school at the university and Cara worked in student affairs.
The woman looked at Cara. “There must be more information.”
“I have details on the package but nothing more on the cottage.”
“What package?”
“The Holiday in the Peak District auction package. From my nephew’s school. The cottage was donated. My brother and his wife bought it—” Cara broke off, exhaled, wondering why she was explaining to someone who didn’t care and wouldn’t be able to help her. She held her hand out for her paper. “Can I speak to someone who manages the rentals?”
“They’re on holiday.”
Cara smiled grimly. “So am I.”
The woman gave her another long, unhappy look before going to the phone and dialing a number. “Mrs. Booth, it’s Miranda Fletcher from the ticket office. We have a young lady, an American, I believe, who is here in need of assistance. It seems she was booked into one of the estate cottages but—” Miss Fletcher broke off, expression clearing. “Ah, wonderful. You’re familiar with the situation. Excellent. I’ll leave her to you then.”
Miss Fletcher hung up the phone. “Mrs. Booth is on her way down. She’ll meet you outside.”
Cara murmured thanks, stepped outside, closing the door carefully behind her, and hoped that Mrs. Booth would have answers.
Mrs. Booth did indeed have answers, and yes, the Gamekeeper’s Cottage had been inadvertently overbooked, while the Gardener’s Cottage stood empty due to some renovations. But then, since it was just Cara traveling, perhaps she’d meant to be in the Gatekeeper’s Cottage which had only just been let for the holidays two days earlier.
Cara’s head throbbed. She didn’t particularly care which cottage she was given, provided she could go somewhere warm, take a hot bath, and never mind food anymore. She’d climb into bed and sleep. That was all she wanted now. To get clean and go to bed.
“Let’s take you to the house while we sort it out,” Mrs. Booth said, reaching for Cara’s suitcase.
