Then he heard, “Lady Ashton got home not two hours ago.”
Mrs. Kilpatrick addressing him caused him to stop in surprise. He turned back to her, saw her eyes on him were hesitant and inclined his head as a gesture of gratitude at her unnecessary bit of news.
“Miss Julia…” she said loudly when he started to walk away.
He stopped walking and turned towards her again.
“Is at the supermarket,” she finished hurriedly.
He regarded her inquisitively.
Mrs. Kilpatrick had been in his life for as long as he could remember. She excelled at her job, never complained, was immensely loyal to his house and her work and, for all of that, he respected her.
Even so, except for when she reported the household finances to him on a quarterly basis, he wasn’t certain she’d ever spoken more than a few words to him of her own free will.
“Is that so?” he replied in an effort to be polite and he swore he saw her gulp. He couldn’t imagine what was wrong with her though he didn’t give this much thought as he had other thoughts on his mind and he started back towards his study.
Then he stopped and saw Carter outside surveying the fountain as if something was wrong with it.
If Carter was outside, how was Julia at the market?
“Tell me, Mrs. Kilpatrick, did Miss Fairfax get her driver’s license while I was away?” he asked courteously, glancing in her direction again.
She nodded. “She certainly did, sir. Pleased as pie, ‘Freedom!’ She said. ‘Relief!’”
Misinterpreting what the woman wanted him to understand, and amused at her description of Julia’s reaction, he thought she wished to report that Julia had taken a car.
“So, she’s out in one of my cars, is she?” he prompted.
She surprised him by shaking her head. “No sir. She walked.”
“Walked?” He’d never been to a grocery store but he’d driven by them and he knew the closest one was in town and that was at least three miles away. Furthermore, why didn’t she simply ask Carter to get her what she wanted from the market? “Why would she walk?”
“She’s begun to like the excursions, sir. She takes Ruby. They both come in with cheeks pink and healthy,” Mrs. Kilpatrick answered.
Douglas crossed his arms on his chest.
“Mrs. Kilpatrick. I have things to do,” he explained impatiently, his tone telling her in no uncertain terms she was wasting his time and she should get to the point.
And Douglas was impatient because he was annoyed. This was obviously Julia’s way of telling him she was not going to use his staff and that she was going to do her bit to contribute to the household by purchasing groceries since he wasn’t going to allow her to pay her way.
“Sorry sir,” Mrs. Kilpatrick bent to her task and he couldn’t help but think she looked scared to death. This annoyed him all the more.
He expected his staff to respect him, to be quiet and go about their duties but he never expected, or to this point received, fear. He knew the staff were anxious around his mother but they’d never appeared that way with him.
“It’s just,” she went on, interrupting his thoughts, her voice so quiet he could barely hear her and it held both a tremor of fear and, if his hearing didn’t deceive him, a note of anger, “those children need something decent in their bellies, something they like to eat. And Lady Ashton won’t allow me to add anything to the grocery list or Carter to buy anything more. It’s a long way for Miss Julia and little Ruby to go, carrying back bags and all, especially when it’s raining. And since Lady Ashton forbid them to use Carter unless she gave her express permission, then they had to walk all last week. I thought that they’d get to use a car, seeing as Miss Julia has a license now and she was so excited about it. But today, Lady Ashton said now she couldn’t use a car unless she gave her express –”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kilpatrick,” Douglas cut her off, turned away and walked toward his study, his jaw set, his gait determined. The annoyance was escalating to an extraordinary feeling the like of which he had not felt for a very long time.
Then he turned back and called down the hall. “Mrs. Kilpatrick,” her head shot up and her hand flew to her throat in fear, “tell Carter to go fetch them. When he gets back, tell him I want to see him.”
“Yes sir!” she replied and walked swiftly towards the front door. As she passed him, he could tell she was holding back a smile.
For his part, Douglas found nothing to smile about.
His phone was ringing when he walked into the study. He strode to his desk, jerked it angrily out of the cradle and answered curtly, “Yes?”
“Oh no, sounds like you’re having a bad day,” Oliver Forsythe returned.
“I’m hoping it’ll get better,” Douglas ground out as he sat, turned in his chair and stared out the window, thinking of Julia and little Ruby tramping out there in the cold and mud, heaving carrier bags of groceries home all because of his bloody mother.
“I’m afraid I’m calling to tell you it’s going to get worse. Charlie had a conversation with Julia this morning and now she’s…” the other line buzzed and Douglas swivelled in his chair to look down at the phone while Oliver finished, “on the warpath. She told me she was going to call you.”
“I don’t think she’s wasted any time. The other line is going.”
“Good luck, mate,” Oliver replied, his tone amused, and rang off.
Douglas hit the button to connect to the other line and before he could speak, Charlotte exploded, “Douglas, have you lost your mind?”
“Hello Charlotte,” he responded evenly to her irate voice.
“Don’t you, ‘Hello Charlotte’ me. Do you know where Jewel is right now?”
He wondered vaguely when Julia had become “Jewel” to Charlotte and he felt a bizarre twist of jealousy slice through his gut.
“The supermarket?” Douglas ventured.
“Do you know how she got there?” she yelled.
“She walked. Listen Charlotte, I just got home last night –” for some reason, far beyond him, he felt compelled to explain. Even though his feeling the need to explain was a rather spectacular event, Charlotte ignored him and broke in angrily.
“And that’s another thing, you’re gone too much. Not only have you left Jewel like a lamb at the slaughter that is Monique, you’re never home. I called this morning to tell her I have some friends who are trustees at a faltering charity and they need some quick, and cheap, as in free, consultation. With a little work bringing her up to speed, and Sam could do the research for her, Jewel could have helped them. It would have been a great way for her to get some experience, start to network, learn the ways in a different country. But, no…” she drew out the last word sarcastically, “she doesn’t trust Monique with the children and doesn’t want to ask more of your staff, so she refuses to leave the children behind and won’t do it.”