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“I suppose a bachelor would want his own entrance,” Cara said, remembering how her older brothers when still living at home would try to sneak in and out without their parents knowing. “Which bachelor lived here last?”
“Frederick.”
“Did he mind having his old rooms converted into a kitchen?” she asked, filling her cup with coffee.
“He had his own place then, an 18thcentury manor outside Turnditch, so he didn’t have strong feelings, but the architect was very careful with the design and realized that more bedrooms would be appreciated on the ground floor and created a suite from what was the former dressing room, study, and servants’ hall. My father was moved into the bedroom suite as his health began to decline, and after my father moved to a care facility, Frederick took to sleeping in there when he stayed over.” Alec nodded to the big refrigerator against the wall. “You’ll find milk in the door of the refrigerator. The left side is the freezer.”
Cara added the milk to her coffee and then seeing that Alec was back to reading was about to quietly slip out when Alec looked up. “You don’t have to leave,” he said.
“You’re reading,” she said. “I hate to interrupt.”
“It’s just theFinancial Times. I can read later.” He turned off the tablet and faced her. “Mrs. Johnson isn’t going to make it back. Most roads are closed. She called me earlier and was quite apologetic but I told her I was glad that she was staying put.”
She heard heaviness in his voice and understood what he wasn’t saying. He had guests but not staff. He had people here; he wasn’t prepared.
“It will be fine,” she said. “It’s just three people. Four, if you count me.”
“The snow is still falling. It looks like we’re all going to be together for Christmas, whether we like it or not.” He glowered at the dark tablet. “What will we feed everybody?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Food?”
“You’re very funny.”
Cara smiled. “I can’t imagine Mrs. Johnson doesn’t have a fully stocked refrigerator and pantry when she was planning on preparing your holiday dinner. There has to be plenty of food here.”
“I’m sure there is,” he agreed.
“Then we can get by. If your family isn’t fussy, I can cook basic things. Spaghetti, meat loaf, chicken.”
“Turkey?”
“Is that what was on the menu for tonight?”
He nodded.
Cara hesitated, as a turkey took some time and she didn’t yet know her way around this kitchen. “I know what to do with a turkey. We have a turkey every year at Thanksgiving—and usually do prime rib for Christmas—but what if we save the turkey for Christmas, and we have Mrs. Johnson’s shepherd’s pie for tonight? That way I can do some planning and figure out what’s where.”
Alec looked thoughtful. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“It buys us some time,” she added, “and allows me to maybe get the aunts involved. I’m sure they have favorite recipes.”
“I wouldn’t let them offer too many suggestions. Too many cooks in the kitchen and all that.”
“So what does a Sherbourne holiday dinner consist of?”
“Turkey. The sides. Appetizers. Dessert.” He thought for a moment. “Mrs. Johnson might have prepared some things already. She was planning on returning. Maybe I’ll give her a call later and see what she says.”
“Or, we don’t bother her, and just wing it. She doesn’t need to worry about us here, not when her mother is hurt.”
“She already feels guilty.”
“She shouldn’t. We will be fine, and dinner might not be your traditional Christmas meal, but it will still be Christmas, and you have your family here as well as an American making your food—” She broke off, flashed him a smile. “It’s rather thrilling, isn’t it?”
“It’s not how I’d describe the situation, but we’ll go with your eternal optimism, shall we?”
She grinned. “Just know that I have roasted turkeys before. I don’t remember if they were good or not, but they were eaten. Roasting a turkey can’t be all that different here. Rinse and remove the giblets, do some things, season it, truss the legs, put in the oven for four hours. Or whatever length of time you need to, depending on the size.
“So who is going to break it to the family that I’m your Mrs. Johnson this year?” Cara asked. “I do think the news would be better received if it came from you.”
