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“Why don’t you go rest? I can put the shepherd’s pie in the oven.”
“I know, but I was also going to make a salad.”
“Which shouldn’t take long. The lettuce has already been washed.”
But Cara didn’t move. She was thinking about a much younger Emma and her horse Charlie. She was thinking about how Alec had helped move a kitchen upstairs so that staff wouldn’t have to go up and down the stairs so much. And then, there was Alec’s mother’s death and his lonely childhood.
“I learned things about you today,” Cara said. “Not sure if you’re comfortable talking about any of it.”
“I overheard a little when I entered the kitchen. What all did they say?”
“The aunts adore you.” She saw his mouth open and she hurriedly added, “I know Dorothy isn’t actually your aunt. But she’s so fond of you.”
“I’ve accepted that she’s an aunt. You can’t separate Emma and Dorothy, and that’s probably a good thing as they were both widowed rather young.”
“But neither have children anymore?”
“Emma never did have children, she couldn’t, and Dorothy had a son, Michael. We were playmates when we were young. But once I went to Eton, I’d only see him at Christmas for dinner.” Alec hesitated. “Michael died a number of years ago. He served Britain as a peacekeeper overseas. Tragically, he never came home.”
Caught off guard, tears started at Cara’s eyes. “Oh, I had no idea.”
“We were all excessively proud of him. But it’s been a terrible loss, as you can imagine.”
Her throat ached and her heart went out to Dorothy. To lose your only child! It wasn’t fair. “So glad you’ve adopted her then. Family is so important.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything and then he slowly nodded. “I think I’d forgotten how much they need to be needed. Forgotten it’s not just about me.” He looked at Cara, brow furrowed, his dark blue gaze intent. “You’re an interesting person, Cara Roberts. Not at all like the women I meet.”
“Maybe you’re hanging out in the wrong places?”
His laugh was low. “I’m usually at the office, but you make a good point. If something isn’t working, try something else.”
“I’m sure you do that already with your business. You wouldn’t continue to make the same investments if they weren’t yielding the return you wanted.”
His gaze warmed. “A very effective metaphor.”
“Thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”
He gave her that glimmer of a smile. “I can, on occasion, be a very nice man.”
Chapter Ten
Cara decided thatjust because they were having Mrs. Johnson’s shepherd’s pie for dinner, they shouldn’t skip sitting at a pretty and festive table. Cara’s mom liked a table with nice linens, and even at breakfast they had matching place mats. The table linens were selected carefully, chosen to set off the dishes and glassware. Dinner always meant that good dishes were used, and the sterling and crystal were pulled out for every Sunday dinner, without fail.
Cara went downstairs to inspect the tall linen closets in the basement off the laundry room. There were two floor-to-ceiling closets filled with hundreds of tablecloths and napkins, and in the huge butler’s pantry next door, there was an entire glass fronted wall with all the Sherbourne’s china and crystal. She flipped a switch and lights came on, illuminating the rows of china and crystal. It was like being in a museum; the collection was superb.
She wasn’t going to use the expensive china for tonight, but it was good to see what was available for Christmas. Back at the linen closet, she selected a rich hunter-green tablecloth for dinner, added five green and red paisley napkins and carried them upstairs and arranged over the smaller dining room table. She added cutlery and attractive goblets and then took one of the wreaths from the music room and turned it into a centerpiece with a stout red candle in the center.
When Alec’s family gathered for dinner, they looked at the table and then at her.
Dorothy was the first to speak. “Why, this is delightful. Did you do this, Cara?”
Cara nodded. “My mother says everything tastes better when the table is set properly.”
“I agree,” Emma said. “And I like the centerpiece. Very festive.”
Cara had made a quick green salad to go with the casserole and during dinner, while everyone was eating and talking, Cara felt grateful she’d picked up a few things from her mother. Cara might never be the cook or hostess her mother was, but at least she hadn’t embarrassed herself yet. At least she loved Christmas. She loved the colors and smells of Christmas, so warm and spicy with ginger and cinnamon. She loved the decorations and the music, whether it was a pop tune or an old-fashioned carol.
She came from a family that celebrated Christmas together and she’d find a way to bring everyone together, and help the Sherbournes also have a Christmas to remember.
