Page 15 of Duke It Out
I follow obediently as she leads me through a door at the end of the room which leads into another corridor. This one is lined with stuffed animal heads which peer down at us with doleful expressions and glazed eyes.
“You’ll get used to them,” says Janey, seeing me look up. “I’ll spare you the potted history lesson, because you’re the expert, and I’ll just give you a quick tour of the ground floor so you know where you’re going.” She hands me the folder. “This will help. It’s a floorplan of the castle and a map of the grounds.”
“Oh yes,” I say, deadpan. “I have one for my flat in London.”
She grins at me. “It’s insane, I know. When I first startedhere, it took me ages to figure out where anything was – I’ve got no sense of direction – so I thought it’d be smart to put together a little welcome pack for new staff. Not that you’re staff, of course. We’reveryhonoured to have a writer here.”
She sayswriterwith the kind of reverence usually reserved for unicorns. Something tells me my glittering career as a copywriter for Super Pets Insurance hasn’t quite made it into the annals of Loch Morven estate history.
Then we pass through another wood-panelled hallway and down a long, gloomy passageway. I can hear rap music and splashing. There’s a chorus of women’s laughter, followed by a squeal of mock-horror.
“And down there is the swimming pool, but we’ll come back to that when the party’s over.”
“Party?”
“Don’t ask.”
For the next half hour, we trek through a series of rooms, all lined with luxurious silk wallpaper and hung with massive paintings. It doesn’t look like the cost-of-living crisis has hit the Loch Morven Estate particularly hard. Places like this don’t run on magic. Someone’s footing the bill, and it looks like the late duke had expensive tastes.
“This is the dining room,” Janey says, opening the door to a massive room with a high ceiling and yet another set of chandeliers. The table is long enough that you could do sprint races on it. Huge oak sideboards line the walls, and the window looks out over the courtyard where we first arrived. I watch as Hamish climbs into the Land Rover and drives away, chased by a tiny white scrap of a terrier.
“Muffin,” Janey says, laughing. “He’s under the impression that he owns the place. He was the late duke’s dog. Definitely has his temperament.”
I’m still looking around, trying to imagine what it’ll feel like to eat dinner here. Am I going to be sitting by myself looking at my phone while a butler appears with my meal on a silver platter?
“Come on, I’ll take you through to the morning kitchen.”
We’ve had the sitting room, the drawing room, the day room, the duke’s billiard room and the informal sitting room, which didn’t exactly look like the sort of place you’d flop on the sofa watching Netflix. At this point I wouldn’t be remotely surprised if there was an afternoon and an evening kitchen as well.
We come back out of a different door and we’re back in the hallway where we started, somehow. I feel like Alice going through the looking glass.
“Confusing, isn’t it? You can see why the map helps.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of it.”
“You’ll be surprised. It starts to make sense, eventually.” Janey waves me ahead of her as we walk past the sweeping stairs and down another passage, this one lined with framed photographs of people in old-fashioned clothes, sitting on horses or playing croquet on the lawn I recognise from outside the house. I make a mental note to come back here and look at them properly, if I can ever find my way back. I’m still quietly panicking that I’ll never find my way to my bedroom.
“Here we are.” Janey holds the door for me, and I gasp. Where every other room seems to have stayed the same for centuries, this one has a completely different feel. Huge windows look out over a long sweep of grass that stretches down towards the loch and the sun fills the room. Greenery tumbles from open wooden shelving, and a huge island stands in the middle of the room, surrounded by the sort ofcool metal chairs that wouldn’t be out of place in a New York loft apartment. On the far side of the room there’s an enormous kitchen in a pale grey, topped with thick wooden worktops which surround the biggest Aga stove I’ve ever seen, and alongside that there’s a huge old butler’s sink which has a bucket of roses sitting in it. Where the rest of the place felt like some sort of museum, this is the first part of the castle I’ve seen that actually feels like a home – albeit posher than anything I’ve ever seen. It’s like stepping into the pages of an interior design magazine.
“This is lovely,” I say, realising I’ve been standing with my mouth hanging open like an idiot for ages. “And this is the morning kitchen?”
“So called because it’s where everyone gathers. Generally speaking, this is where you’ll find whatever you’re looking for.” Janey opens the door of a huge refrigerator which is fully stocked with shelves full of brightly coloured fruit and vegetables as well as glass bottles of milk and juices. “There’s coffee and tea. Anything else you might want, just leave a note on the board or ask Gregor. He’s the cook and he’ll sort it for you.”
I look at the big wooden table and imagine sitting there with my laptop working on the book and suddenly it all feels a little bit less terrifying. I can do this if I’ve got unlimited tea and coffee on tap.
“Okay, we’re almost done. I’ll take you to the library and then to the duke’s study, and we’ll leave the turrets and the rest of the west wing for another day once you’ve got your bearings a little bit.”
Another door, another trek down a hallway, and we step into the library of my dreams. The walls are lined with thousands upon thousands of beautiful old books, and despite thewarmth of the autumn sunshine outside there’s a fire burning in the grate and two elegantly battered old leather sofas sitting on either side of it. By the window, which has the same view down to the loch, there’s another huge leather armchair where a grey and white cat is snoozing in a patch of sunlight.
“That’s Norris. He’s supposed to be keeping the mouse population under control.”
I reach down and smooth a hand over his soft fur. Norris lifts his chin, narrowing his eyes in greeting, and accepts the attention as if he’s born to it, which I guess he is.
“You’ll find pretty much everything under the sun here. The late duchess was a voracious reader, so there’s a whole section of more modern books, too, if you’re looking for something to read. I often sneak in and help myself to something.”
“Are you a big reader?”
“Oh yes.” Janey’s eyes light up. “Annabel told me you were amazing.”
