Page 169 of The Cottage at Brambleton Hall

He didn’t enquire; Valerie was rarely ill, and he trusted her doctor to judge how long she needed to recover.

Ordinarily the second message, from Mrs Hastings, would have been welcome, but this morning it sent a shiver down his spine.

Looking forward to coming home this weekend – we will be bringing a house party – ten guests.

A house party: shopping, flowers, guest bedrooms to prepare . . . menus . . . cooking; the list spiralled in his head. On top of which, there were his own responsibilities – silver, glassware. After three months away he couldn’t let their return be marred by a slip in standards. He needed reliable help. Fast.

The cottage looked as though someone had shaken it upside down. Boxes occupied every available surface. Sammy hadn’t realised how thoroughly she’d settled in until she started packing herself out again.

Kneeling on the rug, she shook free a sheet of newspaper, wrapping a mug inside it.

A knock at the door.

She pushed herself upright, still folding the paper with one hand, tucking it inside the mug, while she opened the door.

Magnus. In uniform; this was official. ‘Miss Jenkins.’

‘Mr Magnus.’

‘The Hall finds itself temporarily understaffed. The family are coming home, with a house party . . . and Valerie is indisposed.’

Sammy set the mug on the windowsill and waited. Surely there was more. Magnus appeared to think he had already explained himself. ‘I see,’ she said cautiously.

‘I knew you’d understand.’

‘I don’t really.’ She waited. Eventually he spoke. ‘I wondered whether you might be available for a few days.’

Sammy stared at him. There it was at last. ‘Actually, I’m rather busy.’ She gestured behind her at the boxes. ‘Packing.’

Magnus glanced past her shoulder. ‘Indeed.’ A familiar eyebrow rose. ‘You would, of course, be well paid.’

She folded her arms. ‘How well?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You said “well”. I’m merely trying to establish how well.’

The second eyebrow twitched.

‘Miss Jenkins . . . what about time and a half. That’s a very generous offer.’

‘It is not an offer.’

‘No?’

‘It is an enquiry.’ Sammy bit the inside of her cheek. ‘And I’ll have to consider my response.’

Before Magnus could reply, she picked up the mug and gently closed the door.

Sammy finished wrapping the mug before putting it in the box and reaching for her phone.

When Jean answered, Sammy explained what had happened.

‘Well,’ said Jean.

‘Well, what?’

‘Sounds to me as though they need you.’