Page 52 of The Cottage at Brambleton Hall

The timer in her apron ticked sharply. Louder now that she was listening for it. Tom’s eyes moved past her, before drifting back, slowing as if registering the lack of movement. ‘Master bedroom?’ he prompted.

From her pocket . . . Beep. Beep. Sammy flinched.

‘I can find my own way, if you like,’ he added, already reaching for his toolbox.

Sammy stepped back at last. ‘Yes . . . sorry. Yes. Come in.’

‘Cheers.’ He slipped past, tipping his head in a brief, courteous acknowledgment as he did.

Sammy jogged back to the precious soufflés. She lunged for the oven, opening it carefully, like an unexpected gift. Inside, the soufflés – her soufflés – golden with toasty brown tops. Risen. Sammy let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. ‘Oh,’ she said softly. ‘Look at you.’

The kitchen door opened, and a brief gust of wind moved through the room, cooler air pressing against the Aga’s steady heat. Temporary reprieve, thought Sammy, fanning herself with a magazine.

Magnus entered with a brown paper bag, his gaze settling on the soufflés. He drew closer. Sammy shifted aside, hiding a smile. Please, please if there is a God let him make Valerie walk in right now.

‘They look . . . adequate,’ he said.

She picked up the oven gloves, hanging them over the Aga rail. ‘Tom’s upstairs,’ she said. ‘The electrician.’

Magnus’s head snapped upright. ‘The electrician,’ he repeated. The bag landed on the table. The pocket watch was already in his hand. ‘Upstairs?’ he queried, sharper now. ‘Unaccompanied?’

Behind her, Stop It sat upright, a low, uncertain whine threading through the room.

Before she could reply, Magnus left. Sammy followed, charging past Valerie who was vacuuming the entrance hall. The other woman’s eyes tracked her. Whatever was in them was gone before Sammy could name it.

Sammy caught up with the butler on the stairs. Behind her the drone of the vacuum cleaner cut out. ‘I let Tom go up on his own,’ she said. ‘That won’t happen again.’

Valerie appeared at Magnus’s elbow. ‘I would have gone up with Tom myself,’ said Valerie. ‘Had I realised.’

‘Realised what?’ asked Magnus.

‘That Miss Jenkins was too busy to accompany him.’

‘Thank you, Valerie,’ Magnus said. ‘Miss Jenkins and I can manage now.’

Magnus turned to face Sammy. ‘No one . . . absolutely no one, but you and I go into the master bedroom unescorted,’ he said. ‘Understood?’

‘Yes, Mr Magnus.’

Footsteps above them. Then Tom’s voice, carrying down the stairwell, ‘All sorted. Picture light’s gone. I’ve switched that circuit off for now. Want me to order a new one?’ Tom clattered down a few more stairs meeting them at the landing. Magnus walked the electrician downstairs, Sammy trailing a few steps behind the men.

When they reached the hall, Valerie was standing by a silent vacuum cleaner. ‘Everything sorted?’

‘Yes,’ said Magnus.

‘Good.’

Magnus walked Tom to the back door. ‘Thank you for coming promptly.’

‘No problem’ Tom said. ‘I’ll get that picture light ordered.’

‘Very good.’

The door shut. Magnus didn’t move.

Heat crept up Sammy’s neck. Letting someone upstairs alone – what had she been thinking?

Finally, he turned to face her. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘let us try those soufflés.’