She was halfway up, and he was watching her go, when she stopped and turned.
“Thanks for taking care of…well, everything so far, honey.”
“Dinnae think a second about it,” he replied then jerked his chin to the stairs. “Up. We’ll be on our way when you’re ready.”
She walked up the wide flight of thick pile, red-carpeted stairs like she was going to the gallows.
Once he lost sight of her, he made his way to the kitchen.
Christine was bustling out of her office. She didn’t look elderly, even though she obviously wasn’t young.
She looked competent.
And harried.
When he saw her, he remembered her, though he couldn’t remember the last time he was at Treverton. Maybe when he was fifteen? Perhaps sixteen.
So, indeed, she’d been around awhile.
She was there but unobtrusive and he’d had no direct dealings with her.
He was going to now.
“Christine?” he called, startling her.
She put her hand to her chest and breathed, “Oh my,” then went on to say, “Well, young Master Wallace. I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Yes, it’s been quite a while,” he agreed.
“Is Lady Blake here?”
“She is. Upstairs, freshening up.”
This made Christine scowl, probably because Jeff hadn’t informed her of their arrival. He’d been busy greeting them and seeing to their bags, but the bloke had to have a phone so he could text her.
“We have some…official business to see to which we shouldn’t delay,” Dair finished.
She understood him, and Dair couldn’t quite read her new expression. It wasn’t grief, per se. It wasn’t elation either.
Apparently, anyone Helena knew had conflicting emotions about her passing.
Nevertheless, he said quietly, “I’m sorry for the loss of Lady Norton.”
“Yes,” she replied vaguely.
“Just so ye understand, Blake and I are?—”
That brightened her up. “Yes. I saw the picture. Delighted for you both.”
“Thank you, Christine,” he said. “I assume ye ken Mr. Sharp, Alex and her husband, Rix, and very likely others will be arriving soon.”
She gave him a quick nod. “Mr. Sharp’s assistant has shared the details. I’ve everything in order. Just need you to tell me when you’d like your meal tonight. It’s my understanding Mr. Sharp will arrive around five.”
Blake had barely eaten anything all day, excusing this by saying she wasn’t hungry.
“If ye can manage something substantial,” he requested. “Blake hasn’t been eating properly today.”
“Poor little miss,” Christine murmured.
