AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He frowned. “Are we having goose this year? I thought it was turkey.”
She sighed. “Did I say goose? What am I thinking? Of course it is a turkey. Your aunt Emma is not fond of goose. My mother is fond of goose.” She shook her head. “But the question is the same. Are you familiar with cooking a turkey?”
They both knew he couldn’t cook, and certainly wasn’t able to prepare a simple roast never mind a huge Christmas dinner, but he wasn’t going to have her worrying about them, not when Mrs. Johnson’s family needed her. “No, but if it came down to it, I could order some pizzas, or drive everyone to the pub—”
“Lord Sherbourne! If your father could hear you now.”
“But he can’t,” Alec said bluntly, lips twitching. “And let’s be honest, there are worse things than pizza or a pub dinner.”
“Perhaps, but this is still my kitchen and I will be back in time for you to have your holiday dinner. It is tradition and I’m not going to be the reason your family’s annual dinner is ruined.” She marched out, spine straight, indignation in the very stern set of her shoulders.
Mrs. Johnson returned just ten minutes later, even more indignant. “That Miss Fletcher is back, sir, and she’s determined to see you. Apparently you were supposed to call her yesterday and didn’t.”
Alec suppressed a groan. “I did forget, yes.”
“She said it’s urgent. It has to something to do with the Christmas candlelight tour tonight. She must go over the format and program with you.”
“There’s no program, and the format is the same as every year,” he said, his exasperation matching the housekeeper’s.
“I reminded her of that, but she’s adamant that she sees you, and she’s not budging. I suppose it’s not really our problem, and we could just leave her outside on the doorstep.”
Alec didn’t think he’d ever admired Cook as much as he did in that moment. “As much as I’d like to do that, I can’t. Send her in then.”
“To the dining room?”
“Yes, here, to the dining room. I’m not going to leave my coffee, or let it get cold.”
Mrs. Johnson sighed. “Very good, sir.”
Miss Miranda Fletcher was every bit as intense as he remembered from their tea together last year. She entered the room briskly, her winter boots thudding on the floor, her cheeks and tip of her nose ruddy from the cold.
“Thank you for making time for me,” she said as Alec stood to greet her. “I was worried when I didn’t hear from you as tonight is the premium tour, and we’re completely sold out.”
“My assistant in London confirmed last week.”
“Yes, but she’s not here on property, is she?” Miranda didn’t wait for an answer. “And I needed to hear from you, as you are the host of this special tour.”
Alec just looked at her, an eyebrow slightly lifted.
“We’ve sold out,” she added rather majestically.
“We sell out every year.”
“But you see, we’ve doubled the size of the tour, and I wasn’t sure if that message had reached you. It would be unfortunate if you didn’t have an adequate amount of champagne.”
“What number are we now expecting?” he asked.
“Fifty-eight, and at one hundred pounds each, tonight will bring in a sizable amount to the guild. Everyone’s very grateful for the Sherbourne family’s ongoing support.”
“We’ve had an excellent relationship with the Bakewell Women’s Guild, and are glad to be able to support your charities.”
“I’m so pleased. So can we count on you again next year, for the six weekends where you open the house, as well as the premium tour just before Christmas?”
“Of course.”
“And as I understand that this year you are a little short-staffed, with both Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Booth being gone, I’d like to arrive a little early and oversee the setup for the champagne party. That way you don’t have to worry about details, and you’ll have a hostess handle things that a hostesswould naturally do, if you weren’t having to manage all of this”—she tipped her head, acknowledging the room—“on your own.”
Thankfully, Cara entered the dining room precisely at that moment. “Alec, I had an idea,” she said bursting into the dining room before she realized he wasn’t alone. “Oh, I’m sorry. Please excuse me—”
