Page 2 of Snowfall Over Halesmere House
‘Lily, you have naturally beautiful hair, do not rush to change it.’
‘Ella, would you like to see our chickens? We have to make sure they’re all in bed when we come home from school, so the foxes don’t get them. We had foxes at home in London too.’
Ella was caught off guard when Arlo’s small, warm hand found hers. She swallowed down the emotion rushing into her chest as his fingers tucked trustingly inside hers. She couldn’t remember when she had last held hands with anyone and was astonished to be so unbalanced by such a simple gesture. He was already tugging Ella, half-laughing, towards the garden as Lily grabbed her other hand. Ella was caught and there was nothing to do but follow, shrug off the sentiment she was so practised at hiding.
‘What’s going on?’
The words were fired at them like bullets and the children froze at her side. She glanced across her shoulder to see a man striding through the arch. After an incredulous stare at Ella, he turned his attention to Noelle.
‘Maman? Who is this with my children?’
‘Maxence! I wasn’t expecting you back quite so soon.’ Noelle clutched her hands together and a flash of guilt crossed her face. ‘This is Ella,chéri. You remember we spoke about her position with us?’
‘Is that supposed to be a question? I remember a discussion, but I made no decision.’
‘You are quite right, we did have a discussion, and you didn’t make a decision, I did.’ Noelle had caught Ella up, the children still clutching her hands. ‘I must apologise for my son’s rudeness, Ella.’
‘There’s no need to apologise for me, Maman. I’m perfectly capable of doing it for myself when the need arises. And I’m still waiting for an explanation about what’s going on.’
‘Oh, Maxence, do you really have to be so difficult?’ Noelle’s voice was more placating as she lifted her chin.
Ella didn’t appreciate his look, which had seemed to measure her and find her wanting, and his smile for the children was taut. His hair was an unruly, swept-back strawberry blond and she couldn’t miss the square jaw, and generous mouth possibly not given much to humour. His was a strong, handsome face and one that she would have found more attractive had he not been so sharp. He wore a practical navy waxed jacket above black jeans, his scarf a blue and heather check that suited his colouring. He dropped down to hold out his arms to the children and they let Ella go to run to him. He gathered them up, rising with one held on each side.
She was used to being underestimated, her heart-shaped face suggesting a fragility she’d never possessed, and she recognised it again in this man’s cool expression. Her toughness had been honed over many years and sharpened by her competitive instinct and choice of career. No one rose to the positions she’d achieved in professional kitchens without being able to hold their own when necessary. She drew her shoulders back and walked towards him, making her smile dazzling on purpose. Her mum always told her it was one of her best features and that Ella didn’t bestow it nearly often enough.
‘Hi, I’m Ella Grant. Lovely to meet you. What a beautiful place you have here.’
For a second she thought he was going to be rude enough to refuse her hand, but he finally took it, shifting Arlo to offer a single bone-crunching shake that was over before she could be the first to relinquish her grip.
‘Max Bentley.’
It was the very least he could offer, and she was certain he was doing it on purpose. His cool smile seemed sardonic, as though he’d recognised what she had been trying to do with her own. She offered a more natural one to the children still in his arms, gratified when they smiled shyly back.
‘Maman?’ Max’s glare had softened a fraction, but his voice retained its edge. ‘I’m still none the wiser as to who Ms Grant is or why my children were strolling across the courtyard hand in hand with a stranger. You were meant to be collecting them from school and giving them tea. We discussed this.’
‘Papa, Ella’s living here now and helping to look after us. Isn’t that right, Mamie?’ Lily glanced at her grandmother for confirmation and Noelle nodded firmly, ignoring Max’s look of horror.
‘I’d like you to tell me right now what you have done.’ His voice had quietened, and Ella heard the ice in it.
‘What have I done?’ Noelle waved a fist in his face, her French accent becoming more pronounced as she shrieked. ‘I will tell you what I have done, Max, and I would have explained earlier if you were not always so preoccupied with your work. I have done the sensible thing for this family and employed Ella to help us. You have enough demands on your time and you can’t do everything yourself. Not with the children and your practice as well.’
Noelle’s fist opened out into a palm she touched to his cheek, her temper subsiding as quickly as it had flared. ‘I did this for all of us. You know we need someone but time and again you refused to make the decision. And Ella will help with the children, take care of them when we are both working.’
‘She will not.’ Max flicked a disdainful glance at Ella. ‘You may have unusual methods of parenting, Maman, but mine are more conventional. And they include not employing a nanny without a thorough interview and careful assessment.’
‘I’m not a nanny.’ Ella was getting fed up with her new employers debating her position and seemed to be losing the feeling in her limbs as the temperature dropped. But she didn’t want to stamp her feet, for fear of seeming petulant.
‘Then what are you, if not a nanny?’
‘I’m a chef.’ Three little words that didn’t come close to summing up her career or list of achievements.
‘A chef?’ Max laughed without warmth. ‘I need a chef even less than I need a nanny.’
‘Papa, are you angry with Mamie and Ella?’ Lily was anxious now and Max was quick to reassure his daughter.
‘A little frustrated with Mamie, Lily, that’s all. She needs to understand you don’t offer people jobs, especially when it’s not your decision to make, without going through a particular process and being sure you know who they really are.’
‘Mamie said Ella would be good for us, Daddy. Do you think she’s wrong?’
