Penny Jordan's Crighton Family Series

‘Work it out for yourself, Counsel,’ she taunted him, headily relieved that he had stopped cross-questioning her about her interest in the mausoleum.

It had given her a bad shock when she had heard his voice and realised that he was standing behind her, and an even worse one when he had informed her that he had seen her outside the offices, she acknowledged as she stepped back from him and started to walk away, so sure that he would make some attempt to either stop her or follow her that she had to turn around when she had reached the exit just to check where he was.

He was standing with his back to her in front of the family grave, and as she watched, he suddenly knelt down and with very great care, tenderness almost, started to remove the weeds that had rooted in the soft grass around the tomb, so engrossed in his task that she might not even have existed.

Shakily she turned away and started to walk quickly in the direction she had originally come.

She made it back to the Grosvenor with ten minutes to spare, and by the time she returned from her room where she had gone to tidy up and brush her hair, Olivia was waiting for her in the foyer.

‘Oh good,’ she exclaimed when she saw Bobbie heading towards her. ‘I was beginning to think that you weren’t going to come.’

‘I spent the morning exploring the cathedral,’ Bobbie explained, ‘and I got back a little later than I’d planned. Your note said that there was something you wanted to discuss with me.’

‘Yes,’ Olivia agreed as they headed for the Brasserie, obviously a popular place for lunch on a Sunday, Bobbie realised when she saw how full it was.

The maître d’ still welcomed them warmly, though, as he showed them to their table.

‘It’s not so much something I wanted to discuss as a proposition I wanted to put to you,’ Olivia confessed once they were sitting down and had been handed their menus. ‘I mentioned to you last night the problems that Caspar and I are having finding a nanny for Amelia and you said you had some experience with children.’

‘Yes,’ Bobbie replied cautiously, sensing what was coming. ‘You said that Caspar had taken on the role of househusband during the summer vacation.’

‘That’s right,’ Olivia agreed. ‘But now, with the new academic year looming, he really needs to get down to some preparatory work. Ruth is marvellous helping out when she can, but it really isn’t fair to expect her to do more than the occasional babysit for us.’

‘No, I suppose at her age...’ Bobbie began, but Olivia shook her head.

‘Oh, heavens no, it’s got nothing to do with her age. Ruth might have just hit her seventies but she looks more than ten years younger, and so far as her intellectual and energy levels go, she certainly puts me to shame. She’s wonderful with children, as well. It’s such a shame that she’s never had any of her own.’

‘Some women just aren’t particularly maternal,’ Bobbie offered quietly.

‘Some aren’t,’ Olivia concurred as the waiter took their orders and removed the menus, ‘but Ruth most certainly is. It’s a pity that she never married.’

‘Perhaps she never found anyone who could give her enough to compensate for losing her right to call herself a Crighton,’ Bobbie suggested.

She could see Olivia giving her a puzzled look.

‘It’s true that some male members of the family do see themselves as coming somewhere just a little below God and most definitely very much higher than anyone else, but Ruth has certainly never held that kind of view. No, I think the fact that she has never married has more to do with the fact that her fiancé—a fighter pilot—was killed during the last war than anything else, although according to Caspar...’ Olivia paused, frowned and then without completing her original statement continued, ‘Joss absolutely adores her and she thinks the world of him.’

‘Because he’s a boy...a male,’ Bobbie offered dryly.

‘No, because he’s Joss,’ Olivia told her firmly. ‘We seem to have given you a rather off-putting view of her. I don’t know how. She really is the most wonderful person... caring...understanding...and very wise somehow.’ She gave a tiny shake of her head.

‘I’m letting myself get rather sidetracked.’ She smiled at the waiter who had brought their food, then waited until he had gone before continuing quietly, ‘Caspar and I were wondering, since you said you’d planned to stay in the area for a while, if you would consider coming to work for us on a part-time basis to keep an eye on Amelia so that Caspar can get on with some work. You needn’t worry that you’d be left in full-time charge of her—Caspar will still be based at home.’

Bobbie put down her fork, the food on it uneaten. ‘I don’t know what to say... I haven’t really got the experience....’

‘You did say at Katie and Louise’s birthday party that you’d worked at a local creche in the holidays,’ Olivia reminded her.

Bobbie nodded her head. ‘Yes,’ she admitted slowly, ‘but that was a nursery for children with special needs, older children who needed special trained help,’ she emphasised. ‘I, we...I was just there to fetch and carry, really.’

The way Olivia was watching her made her feel slightly embarrassed and she wished now she hadn’t mentioned the voluntary work she had done as a teenager, following in a family tradition that made it natural and instinctive for her to want to help others less advantaged than she was herself.

‘There aren’t any small children in our close family,’ she felt she had to point out to Olivia, ‘and I’d be lying to you if I said anything other than I don’t really have the remotest idea of what it’s like to have sole responsibility of a very young child.’

‘You won’t be expected to—at least not on your own,’ Olivia assured her promptly. ‘As I said, Caspar will be there and I promise you that not only is he a dab hand at changing nappies and giving bottles, much better than I am myself if I’m honest,’ she admitted ruefully, ‘but he’s also the type of doting father who actually enjoys doing so.

‘No, it’s simply a matter of your being there so that Caspar can work in peace. I’m afraid a lot of the time it will probably be quite boring for you. She doesn’t do much at this stage apart from eating and sleeping, although Caspar is convinced that she’s already showing early signs of having inherited his intelligence.’

They both laughed.

‘I...how long would you need me for?’ Bobbie asked hesitantly. It wasn’t, after all, what she had planned and would certainly curtail her freedom, her ability to come and go as she chose, but there was no doubt that it would also put her in a very advantageous position when it came to...

‘Four weeks, possibly six,’ Olivia told her hopefully.

‘I’m really not sure that I’d be the right person....’ Bobbie hedged, her emotional misgivings surfacing.

‘Yes, you are,’ Olivia reassured her firmly. ‘I know it sounds a silly thing for me to say, especially with my legal training,’ she added ruefully, ‘but from the moment we met I felt...’ She paused and gave Bobbie a wry look. ‘I’m not normally given to bold pronouncements and vague utterances about instinct and the like, but all I can say is that I felt so instantly at home and comfortable with you almost in a way as though you were family that I know that Amelia will feel the same, and Caspar agrees with me.’

‘That’s some compliment,’ Bobbie admitted shakily as she felt her eyes blur slightly with emotional tears. ‘I’m not sure I can live up to it....’

‘Of course you can,’ Olivia countered robustly. ‘And look, if it makes you feel more comfortable, why don’t we agree on a week’s trial on either side, which would give us both the option to back out gracefully if we should feel the need? You did say that you needed to earn some money,’ Olivia reminded her.

Yes, she realised she had said that and there was no doubt that taking the job Olivia had so unexpectedly offered her had many advantages, not the least the fact that she would now have a completely legitimate reason for remaining in the area.

‘I ... look, can I think about it and tell you tomorrow?’ she asked Olivia.

‘Tonight,’ Olivia stressed determinedly.

‘Tonight,’ Bobbie agreed with a smile.

‘Good... now there’s just one more thing,’ Olivia said, pushing back her chair. ‘Would you excuse me for a moment?’

‘Of course,’ Bobbie replied. No doubt Olivia was going to telephone Caspar to tell him how their interview had gone, she decided, but five minutes later when Olivia returned, her face wreathed in smiles and carrying a small bundle wreathed in blankets, Bobbie knew that she had guessed wrong.

‘Meet your new charge-to-be,’ Olivia announced, unceremoniously placing the bundle in Bobbie’s arms.

Just for a second her first reaction was to reject it...her...thrust her away, but then the baby opened her eyes and Bobbie’s heart caught in a painful lunge of recognition as she looked down into the tiny baby features and instinct took over from caution and she was holding Amelia tightly in her arms, cooing inanities and breathing in the delicious baby smell and hopelessly, desperately, falling head over heels in love with her.

The difficulty was not going to be whether she could take to Olivia and Caspar’s baby, she acknowledged shakily, but whether she could bear to let Amelia go!

‘She’s beautiful,’ she told Olivia huskily.

Olivia gave her a pleased maternal smile. ‘We certainly think so,’ she said, ‘although it is quite unusual in this family to have a redhead, and as for those eyes...’

‘It’s something to do with the combination of dark and fair genes,’ Bobbie explained absently. ‘It sometimes produces this particular colouring apparently—dark red hair and sea green eyes.’

‘Yes, Aunt Ruth said much the same thing,’ Olivia agreed, exclaiming happily, ‘Oh look, Luke’s just come in,’ and standing up, she waved him over before Bobbie could say or do anything.

As they waited for him to weave his way towards them through the busy room, Olivia confided to Bobbie, ‘At least he seems to have shaken Fenella off at last, thank goodness. There was a moment when we began to think she was going to manage to manoeuvre him into taking her back. That woman is a positive leech and Luke is such a softy at heart. Mind you,’ she added coyly, ‘I rather suspect that the two of you are on much better terms than you want the rest of us to believe.’ She explained knowingly, ‘I saw that he’d left you a note when I left mine. I recognised his handwriting.’