Sommersgate House (Ghosts and Reincarnation #2)(2)
* * * * *
Mrs. Margaret Kilpatrick had known Julia Elizabeth Fairfax for fifteen years. She’d watched her grow from a young, naive, headstrong girl of twenty-one to a beautiful, sophisticated, even more headstrong woman (so headstrong as to be described as stubborn).
Julia stood in the drive by the gleaming Bentley, which sat next to a glamorous circular fountain. She was swinging her niece, smiling and laughing, looking like she’d been born to stand in the drive of a palatial estate, even though she most definitely had not.
She was very tall, slim but rounded in all the right places. Julia wore an elegant suit of chocolate brown with a fitted pencil skirt and a feminine jacket nipped in at the waist. Her blonde hair was swept up in a chic twist. She was wearing a pair of leopard print, spike heeled pumps and a tawny pashmina dripped casually from her elbows. She didn’t look like she’d spent the last fourteen hours travelling through crowded airports, stuffy airplanes and close cars. She looked fresh and rested, as if she was just headed out to lunch.
“I’m not a baby,” Ruby exclaimed through her giggling struggles.
“You’re my baby, always were, always will be,” Julia stated and kissed the child loudly on her cheek.
Julia bent to let Ruby down and noticed Mrs. Kilpatrick.
Walking forward hand extended, she murmured, “Mrs. K.”
The muscles worked in Mrs. Kilpatrick’s throat as she tried not to cry and she steeled herself for what was to come. Julia Fairfax, and her mother Patricia, were American and didn’t stand on ceremony and had no sense of, or more likely didn’t care much for, the firmly hierarchical way things were at Sommersgate. The lady of the house, Baroness Monique Ashton, hated it when her daughter’s American in-laws would come to visit. They were far too familiar with the servants, amongst other things, many other things.
Julia put her hand on Mrs. Kilpatrick’s arm, squeezed gently and kissed the older woman’s cheek with familiarity and kindness.
“How’s it going, Mrs. K?” she asked, trying to read Mrs. Kilpatrick’s face. At that distance, Mrs. Kilpatrick saw that Julia was not nearly as fresh and relaxed as she’d looked from afar. Her skin was pale and drawn and her green eyes, normally alight with mischief, good humour, or stubborn resolve, looked immensely tired, as if she’d not only been travelling for fourteen hours but as if she hadn’t slept in weeks.
“I’m well, Miss Julia, how was your flight?”
Mrs. K referred to both Julia and Patricia in a less formal way at each woman’s demand. Lady Ashton would never allow Mrs. K any kind of familiarity which would include using their Christian name. Mrs. K firmly refused to call them Jewel and Patty, as she’d been asked to do many a time. In return, Julia and Patricia had firmly refused to answer to Miss Fairfax or Mrs. Fairfax. In the end, they had an unspoken compromise and “Miss Julia” and “Miss Patricia” were born.
Mrs. K disengaged her arm with her own friendly but fleeting squeeze of Julia’s hand and walked the woman into the house as Ruby danced ahead of them. Julia hesitated and looked back at the Bentley. Neither Julia nor Patricia had ever been comfortable with being waited upon, having their bags carried for them, unpacked for them, their laundry done or doors opened for them.
“Don’t worry, Carter will see to your bags,” Mrs. K assured her. “Your flight?”
Julia smiled wearily, giving in gracefully to the gentle reminder of how things were at Sommersgate.
Even though Mrs. Kilpatrick had pulled away from Julia’s grasp, the younger woman linked her arm through Mrs. K’s elbow and walked forward. “I’m glad it’s over, I hate flying.” She looked around her and trembled dramatically. “How’s this dusty old pile of rocks keeping? I see it hasn’t fallen down around your heads… unfortunately.”
Mrs. Kilpatrick shuddered a bit at Sommersgate being talked of like that. On a day as tense as today, a body needed to be careful.
Julia had been a guest on dozens of occasions, dating from before Julia’s brother Gavin had married young Lady Tamsin Ashton and through to last Christmas. Julia had brought her (rather despicable, Mrs. K always thought) husband there before they were married and came back after they were divorced. Mrs. K believed fully in the sanctity of marriage but she’d said a little prayer on the day she found out Julia had become legally untied to that horrible man.
Julia, like many, both loved and hated Sommersgate, but, like few, didn’t have any problem sharing how she felt.
“It’s taken good care of those children,” Mrs. K responded, nodding her head toward Ruby as they exited the long hallway and entered the enormous stairwell with its cavernous gallery, curving staircase ornately carved from granite that four people standing abreast could ascend and its enormous ceiling made entirely of domed glass and embellished wrought iron. Its walls were decorated with dozens of portraits of serious faced ancestors wearing the fashions of the day replete with dripping medals or jewels, depending on the gender.
Julia stopped and looked around, staring at the huge marble fireplace that once heated this space.
“I expect it’s you who have taken good care of those children,” Julia remarked and Mrs. K knew this had more than one meaning. “I just can’t imagine what was in Tammy and Gav’s heads when they demanded the children be brought up here.”
“Miss Tamsin loved this house, as does Ruby,” Mrs. K replied.