Page 56 of The Last Night in London
Colin parked the Land Rover in the drive as the front door flew open and a dog that looked a lot like George burst out down the front steps, rounding the SUV to my side of the vehicle. George went crazy, pawing at the door, and I immediately opened it so I wouldn’t get slobbered on to death.
“Sorry,” said Colin, his expression not reflecting the apology as he pulled my door open wider. “That’s Charlotte, George’s sister—yes, as in Princess Charlotte. You didn’t get to meet her last time you were here because she was with my dad. They’ll probably find a good mud puddle or cowpat to roll in, but as long as they’re happy...”
“Right,” I said, and climbed out, hoping there’d be a chance for a dog bath before the drive back to London on Sunday. I followed Colin to the passenger side, where his parents were helping Precious exit the vehicle. I watched Precious kiss Colin’s father on the cheek and for a brief moment cup his jaw with a veined hand, her rings catching the light. It was a touching exchange, reminding me of how Precious had adopted Sophia’s family as her own. I couldn’t help but consider that the adoption might have been mutual.
I greeted Penelope, who turned to the man beside her.
“Maddie, this is my husband, James. He’s been eager to meet you after hearing so much about you.”
I slid a glance toward Colin, who was patently looking away, and shook his father’s hand. “It’s a pleasure.”
Colin’s father was tall, fit, and lean, despite being in his seventies, with the rugged good looks of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors. His blond hair had threads of gray at the sideburns, but it was still thick and wavy and entirely unfair to the majority of the female population.
I stopped midshake, studying his face closely, unsure of what I thought I’d seen. He and Colin shared the same build and coloring, but James’s eyes were hazel, not blue, and no freckles decorated the bridge of his nose. His smile was all Colin’s, though. Full lips that still managed to be masculine in a smile that could have been mocking but for the tilt of the head and the dimpled chin that was both charming and devastating.
“Is something wrong?” James asked.
“No, not at all.” I slipped my hand from his but continued looking at his face. “I guess I’m trying to figure out who Colin favors.”
“After looking at the photo you discovered in Sophia’s things, Penelope and I think he’s a dead ringer for his great-uncle Graham.”
I nodded. “Yes, but there’s something in your face that’s so familiar, too. I’ll have to go back over Sophia’s photos from when she was younger. Maybe it’s there.”
“Certainly. And Penelope has pulled out the wedding album for you to look at in the library. Hunting for photos has been a nice distraction from the newly discovered roof leak in the west wing, so thank you for that.” He grinned. “And welcome back to Hovenden Park. We’re delighted you’re able to stay for the weekend, and we thank you for bringing Precious. I understand that you’ll be dazzling our palates with a few Southern dishes tonight. I know we will all enjoy them, but especially Precious.”
We turned to see her hanging on to Colin’s arm in front of the steps, staring up at the facade of the house, the light from the sky hiding the ashy tone of her skin and making her appear young again.
“This house always brings back memories,” she said.
“Good ones, I hope,” Colin said, leading her up the steps.
“Mostly.” She looked straight ahead as she walked into the foyer, almost as if she were walking back in time, expecting to see someone inside waiting for her.
While James and Colin brought in the luggage and the assorted bags of food, Penelope escorted Precious, Arabella, and me past the Henry VIII tent panels and through an arched doorway into the library. A blazing fire roared in the large fireplace. The smell of woodsmoke made me think of home again and cold winter mornings spent at my grandfather’s house.
“It’s been chilly at night, and the cold will permeate these walls and linger until we get a longer spell of warm days and nights,” Penelope said as she situated Precious in one of the two facing sofas near the fire.
I looked up at the vaulted, beamed ceiling and the large front-facing window. The small glass panes reached almost from floor to ceiling. The heavy velvet curtains were opened to let in the light, but I wondered if, even closed, they could really help stave off the chill hovering beyond the circle of warmth from the fireplace.
“This must be a bitch to heat,” I said. Then, realizing I’d spoken out loud, I looked in horror at Penelope. “I am so sorry—I didn’t mean to say... It’s just that my aunt Cassie used to say that about my grandfather’s house, before she decided she was going to stay and live in it, and the coziness of this room reminded me of it.”
Penelope looked amused. “Does she still say that?”
“I haven’t lived there for a while, but she probably does, if only to prove her point.”
“Well, she’s absolutely correct, and I wouldn’t be truthful if I told you I’d never thought those exact words. I could feed a third-world country for a year with what it costs to heat this house for a month in winter. It’s one of the reasons why we opened up the dairy to the public, for school group tours and the like. It keeps us warm, at least.”
Anna, the young woman who’d waited on us out in the garden when we’d come for lunch, appeared with a tea tray. Turning toPenelope, I said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get started battering the chicken. I just need you to point the way.”
“I’d be happy to take you,” Colin said, entering the room with his father. “Every once in a while, we find skeletons of visitors in random passageways. They lost their way and were never found.” I knew he was joking, but his face was so serious I had to look twice.
“And I can show you how to use the AGA,” Anna offered. “She’s a bit temperamental.”
We excused ourselves and headed toward the kitchen, passing through a door almost hidden in the paneling of the great hall, then down passages that were more maze than hallway. Eventually, we burst into a large, brightly lit room that was surprisingly modern despite the deep fireplace with centuries-old soot staining its bricks. Shiny white subway tiles adorned the walls behind the counters and AGA; all the appliances were stainless steel. It could have been cold and industrial, but a cozy bench with embroidered pillows and a scarred wooden table with six chairs in front of the fireplace warmed the room. A large bowl full of water sat on the floor by the back door, of which a doggy panel took up most of the bottom half.
Anna spent a good ten minutes showing me how to operate the AGA. Once she was satisfied I knew what to do, she said, “Can you find your way around the kitchen by yourself? I’ve got some tidying up to do, but I’ll be happy to stay until you get the lay of the land.”
“I haven’t got any plans, so I’ll stick around for a bit,” Colin offered.
