Sommersgate House (Ghosts and Reincarnation #2)(17)

“You dress like a rock star’s wife,” Gavin used to tease her.

“She does not!” Tamsin would defend.

“Okay, you dress like a rock star’s somewhat-classy wife,” Gavin allowed.

Pushing the once happy, now devastating memory and the porridge, aside, she reached for her coffee and took a sip just as Douglas strolled into the dining room.

At his arrival, Julia nearly choked. He was supposed to be out running, she never imagined he’d join them for breakfast. In fact, she had hoped to avoid him completely this morning after her behaviour last night.

Her eyes surreptitiously slid over him and she noted he wore a superbly-cut navy suit with wide-set pinstripes, a crisp, wrinkle-free white shirt and a subtly-patterned, obviously-expensive, navy tie. His thick, dark brown hair was still slightly wet from a shower and curling, overlong, at his collar. His jaw was smoothly shaven and the scar on his upper lip stood out making him look both menacing and sexy.

He sauntered into the room the way only a man who owned such a room could saunter into it, with sheer arrogance.

“Morning Unka Douglas!” Ruby called loudly, her mouth full.

“Good morning, Ruby,” Douglas replied evenly, walking behind Lizzie’s chair as she sat beside Julia, touching the girl lightly on the shoulder as he did so. Julia watched as Lizzie lifted her shoulder, as if seeking to deepen the gesture, but it was soon gone and, just as quickly, both the girl’s shoulders drooped.

“Will… Elizabeth,” Douglas said as he sat down at the head of the table to Julia’s right and put his napkin in his lap.

“Mornin’,” Willie said, also with mouth full.

Lizzie just made an indistinct noise.

Douglas turned his indigo eyes to Julia, she noticed (again, as she had many times over the years) that they were thickly lashed, somehow making the vivid blue seem darker.

“Are you recovered this morning?” he asked.

Of course he wouldn’t just let it go. He had to bring it up.

“Absolutely,” Julia lied with a bright, false smile making a show of pulling her porridge back towards her as if it was a delicious bowl of ice cream which she couldn’t wait a moment longer to devour. “Fit as a fiddle,” she added for good measure.

There was the briefest hesitation and then he drawled (actually drawled), eyes still on her, “I can see that.”

There was something in that drawl and in his eyes that made Julia’s stomach lurch in a not altogether unpleasant way.

“Recovered from what?” Willie butted in, thankfully interrupting the moment and reaching for a piece of toast that carried the barest hint of butter.

“Nothing, I didn’t get settled in last night, but I’m okay now,” Julia fibbed again, eating a mouthful and then making the Herculean effort to stop herself from gagging. Douglas was still regarding her rather closely and she really wished he wouldn’t.

“It’s the house,” Willie stated. “It doesn’t like strangers. It’ll get used to you though.”

Julia lost all composure and gaped at her nephew open-mouthed as Ruby giggled.

Lizzie had no response.

“What?” Julia asked.

Willie cut his eyes to Douglas and took a big bite of toast.

“Nothin’,” he muttered and Julia decided after her behaviour last night it was prudent to drop the subject.

Mrs. Kilpatrick swept in, deposited poached eggs, two crisp rashers of bacon and fresh toast in front of Douglas and swept out, not making a sound throughout the entire exercise.

Julia stared hungrily at his plate and wondered what she had to do to get eggs and bacon for breakfast (especially when she couldn’t even get in the kitchen to make it for herself) as she took another mouthful of oatmeal. At that point, she’d sell her soul for just one rasher of bacon.

“This weekend,” Douglas started as he poured himself some coffee out of the silver service, “we’ll all go to London. You four can go sightseeing during the day and Saturday night, Julia, I’d like you to attend an art opening with me.”

Julia had barely stopped gaping at Willie only to turn and gape at Douglas.

“I’m sorry?” she asked after she forced herself to stop gaping.

Her question was lost in loud whoops from Willie, the volume of which surprised even Julia considering the careful quiet the children and servants observed constantly.

“London! Wicked!” Willie declared, pumping his arm like he was a trucker repeatedly blowing his horn.

Ruby decided this was a good indication that she, too, could get excited and she let out childish screech of delight.

“Elizabeth, would you like to go to London?” Douglas quietly asked his niece.

Surprisingly, Lizzie answered.

“Kensington Palace, where Diana’s dresses are?” she inquired of her bowl of porridge, not lifting her head to look at her uncle.

“If that’s what you’d like,” Douglas told Lizzie and turned back to Julia. “Take Veronika as well, so you won’t be overburdened.”

And with that, the weekend plans were made with Julia only being able to utter two, unacknowledged words in the process. Julia wondered if Veronika might have plans of her own but she decided not to ask as clearly, to Douglas, it didn’t matter.

She wanted to say something about not wanting to go to London, but rather wanting to sleep in and get used to her new home and not traipse around an unfamiliar, bustling city. Or, she wanted to say something about wanting a pot of jam or a sugar bowl on the table, because at the very least she took sugar in her coffee, not to mention her oatmeal. Or she wanted to say something about how it might be a good idea for Douglas to speak to her about these ideas before he presented them to the children.