She bustled away, hearing Julia’s chic pumps hit the floor one-by-one as she took them off and, in a teasing voice, she addressed Ruby. Listening to Julia, Mrs. K. nearly ran into Veronika who was hiding in the shadows by the dining room
“She arrive safe?” Veronika asked in broken English.
The Russian girl had been at Sommersgate for six months, the longest Mrs. Kirkpatrick had been able to keep a daily for several years, and, for that alone, she cherished the girl. It took an extraordinary amount of time hiring staff, training them in the very specific tasks they had to perform, then losing them and having to hire more.
Veronika not only stayed, but she did a job at which many people would turn up their noses and she did it with pride and unending amounts of energy. Especially these last months when so much more was required of them with the arrival of the children.
“She’s safe, you’ll need to unpack her cases,” Mrs. K informed the girl. “But first, I want you to meet her.” Her orders were voiced kindly but Veronika shrunk into herself and Mrs. K’s heart went out to the girl.
Veronika had not shared much but Mrs. K knew something was not right. She was timid and scared of her own shadow. Monique Ashton unnerved her and Sommersgate House petrified her, both of which weren’t unusual and often why the other girls never stayed very long. But Veronika needed the job, or she would likely be shipped back to wherever she came from, something, Mrs. K thought, terrified her most of all.
Where Douglas Ashton had found the petite, young, pretty, dark-haired girl was something that Mrs. Kilpatrick did not want to know. He’d simply told Mrs. K one day that a girl was coming to fill the daily job that had gone vacant for several weeks.
“If she’s suitable, keep her. She’ll have no references but that’s not your concern, just put her to work,” he’d said.
The comings and goings of Douglas Ashton, titled Baron Blackbourne and sixth master of Sommersgate House, were none of Margaret Kilpatrick’s business and, even if she could know, Mrs. Kilpatrick didn’t want to know. Further, she’d never question Lord Ashton, not in a million years. She’d be sacked, without references, even if she had been in his life since he could remember. He’d do it, she had no doubt, and he’d not entertain another thought in his handsome head about it.
Mrs. Kilpatrick had come to Sommersgate when Douglas Ashton was an infant. Even knowing him since he was a wee lad, as a man, she admired him greatly, she feared him and she worried about him, in that order.
Given his privileged birth, he could have chosen an entirely different path. However Douglas Ashton was driven to something else and this drive, to attain whatever it was he desired, was what Mrs. K admired. Although a cold man, Mrs. Kilpatrick felt (with some pride, even though it had naught to do with her) that Douglas Ashton was not a bad man (not like his father). One couldn’t say exactly that he was a good man but he certainly wasn’t cruel and, considering his upbringing, to avoid that end was a feat in itself.
His determination was what she feared, along with his rumoured ruthless tactics. No man should work that hard, that long, sacrificing whatever morals and ethics (and, if gossip could be believed, were all of them) to get what he wanted. Lord Ashton was not a man to be denied, if he wanted something, it was his. If he wanted Mrs. K to employ a pretty, young Russian girl with no references, no experience and nothing but a passport, then he’d have it. And he did. And Mrs. K was just one in a small army of people who did his bidding, or faced the consequences.
She worried about him because he seemed so unapproachable, so cold and so very alone. He had no one and needed no one and Mrs. K couldn’t believe anyone, truly, lived like that, at least not happily. Even though Douglas Ashton never gave any indication he cared one whit about Mrs. Kilpatrick, she was the kind of woman who cared about just about everyone. She had a special place in her heart for the two children she watched grow up at Sommersgate, both of them, even Lord Douglas Ashton. It wasn’t his fault he was the way he was, indeed, he could have turned out very, very different. That was why Mrs. K loved him, was devoted to him and his house, even though he would never know how she felt.
Margaret Kilpatrick’s attention returned to Veronika. “Help me with the coffee, then you can meet Miss Julia and then you can see to the unpacking.”
As ever, Veronika did as she was told and they brought a tray to Julia with an exquisite silver coffeepot, a delicate china serving set and a plate of biscuits all sitting on a crisp, lily-white linen serviette.
Julia stood, a smile on her lips, when she saw Veronika.
“Veronika,” she started, again putting out her hand to shake the girl’s. The girl hesitantly allowed this but gave a small cry of surprise when Julia pulled her in for a swift kiss on the cheek. Julia thoughtfully ignored Veronika’s startled cry when she continued. “I hear you’ve been taking care of my nieces and nephew. Thank you.”
Veronika nodded and stepped back, this warm reception was not something she’d encountered before from anyone, not even Mrs. Kilpatrick. Veronika Raykin and Julia Fairfax had met only once and the circumstances at the time were most dire.
Julia smiled at her and Veronika looked at a loss of what to do next. “I unpack your case,” she announced finally and then fled the room.
“She’s a little shy,” Mrs. Kilpatrick explained.
Julia nodded, her face thoughtful as she watched Veronika go.
“Her timing wasn’t great, just coming to this gothic monstrosity when…” Julia stopped and looked at Ruby then she started again. “Tell me, how are things?”
Mrs. Kilpatrick knew exactly what Julia was asking.
For the past five months, Julia was at home in Indiana preparing to move to England and care for her brother’s children under the strict terms of he and his wife’s will. These terms were rigid and, to everyone’s surprise, included that the children be brought up in England, live at Sommersgate and be reared under the guardianship of Lord Douglas Ashton and Ms. Julia Fairfax. Unless Julia was willing to give up custody, which she obviously was not, this meant she had to quit her high-paid job, sell her home, disburse her belongings, say good-bye to her friends and family and move to a foreign country to live at Sommersgate for at least the next thirteen years.
Julia had done all of this without murmur, leaving the country four and a half months ago after the funerals and after the will was read, shattered from grief and jetlag, and spent the ensuing time readying herself for this change in life.