Kenny reappeared, wiping his hands. 'Boxes are all sorted, hen. Cal and Danny’ll load them into the truck for you.'
'Thank you, that’s very kind of you.’
'Ach, kindness costs nothing,' Kenny said. 'Now finish your drink before you’ve got to go back out in the cold.'
Amanda looked around, her shoulders relaxing despite herself.
'It’s cosy in here,' she said.
'That’s one word for it.’
She shook her head. 'You really love it here, don’t you?'
'What can I say, the place gets under your skin.'
Her gaze lingered on the window, where the frost blurred the edges of the fairy lights outside.
'I’ll take your word for it,' she murmured.
We sat in companionable quiet, me trying to find something to say while remaining tongue-tied. I’d always been plenty confident enough around women, so why did Amanda have me knotted like an old pair of laces?
I finally had her sat in one place instead of rushing from task to task, and found myself with nothing but thoughts that made my cheeks heat.
A minute later, Kenny gave us a wave. 'You’re all set, love. Safe drive back.'
She stood, smoothing her coat. 'Thank you. You’ve been very welcoming.'
'Of course we have, we’re nothing if not friendly in Otterleigh Bay,' Kenny said. That earned him a rare smile, which made jealousy flare in the pit of my stomach. I wanted all of her smiles.
I checked that the load was steady before closing the back door of the 4x4. Amanda stood by, coat wrapped tight and breath fogging in the cold air.
'All okay, boss?' I teased.
She glanced at me, features sharp. 'Just thinking it’s not so bad here, maybe.'
On the drive back up the hill, she was quiet again as the village lights faded behind us.
I only had nine days left with her in command of the manor. I’d be damned if I wouldn’t find a way to see her have some fun.
seven
AMANDA
Somewhere between thethird spilt drink and the fifth time I’d had to request the kids stop trying to slide down the bannisters, knocking garlands off as they did, my professional veneer started wavering. Despite the morning of clay shooting for the adults, and the puppeteer for the children, it’s like the clients were going stir crazy in the manor.
By lunchtime, I’d mediated two arguments between the chef and Pru, the housekeeper, and narrowly prevented a seven-year-old from dismantling a taxidermy badger to see whether it still contained itsinsides.I’d relocated the badger to my office for safekeeping, and having his glassy-eyed stare dogging me meant hiding in there was no fun either.
Was the twitching in my left eyelid my imagination?
Honestly, I should be gifted an award for the fact that I hadn’t snapped at anyone. Or torn some ancient, fancy curtains to shreds. Or threw a wellie boot through a window.
Yet.There was still time.
By three o’clock, the family had rejected my idea of a long walk together guided by Henry. Had sent away the watercolour artist who had been instructing them, and they seemed to be wandering the halls, giving me more things to stress about. Never had I had clients so utterly dissatisfied with the schedule we’d agreed on.
‘Amanda, is there any vegan shortbread?’ Despite no one being vegan, but Flora and Raif, the eldest set of the matriarch’s heirs, had been feelingbubbly.
‘Amanda, have you seen my daughter?’ Which one? The one trying to bowl with a melon or the one terrorising Pru with twenty questions a minute?
