Page 39 of Duke It Out
I shake my head. There was definitely nothing about balls in the contract, unless – well, I have to admit I sort of skimmed some bits. Most of them, to be honest. Who reads the small print?
“Every year there’s a ball for the village and the workers here on the estate. We all wondered if it was going to go ahead after – well, with everything.” Janey’s brow wrinkles.
“She means since his nibs popped his clogs.” Gregor, in true Glaswegian manner, doesn’t beat about the bush.
“I’m getting the impression that the late duke wasn’t universally loved.” I look at them both and they exchange a glance.
Gregor chuckles. “Let’s just say we’re glad to have Rory at the helm.”
Talking of which, there’s no sign of him. He’s probably off doing something very busy and important. I’m not going to ask, of course.
“There aren’t that many people here, though?” I’m having visions of a ball with a handful of workers lurking in fancy dress at one side of a room while a band plays in the other.
Janey surveys me with a smile. “Ah, you’ve only seen us. Believe me, this place is like an ant hill.”
“That’s no’ the best analogy.” Gregor shakes his head. “More like a finely oiled machine.”
“I’ll take you for the rest of that tour later,” Janey says, “show you the staff cottages, introduce you to some of the others.”
“I’d like that.” It might help make some sense of the duke’s memoirs if I know how the place works. “Meanwhile I’d better get back to work.”
Janey pushes her chair away from the table. “Yep, me too. I’ve got some admin to get done. Do you want a coffee to take with you?”
I shake my head. “If I have any more caffeine, I’ll be awake until tomorrow morning.”
There’s no sign of Rory in the library. I get down to work and the hours disappear as I make notes and put things in order, stacking the books into years then decades, trying to get a handle on his spidery handwriting on the countless loose sheets of paper. I pop into the kitchen to get a drink at five and Gregor’s in there with a lanky boy with flaming red hair so bright it makes mine look subdued, going over some papers.
“Ah, Edie, you were asking about the others. This is Callum. He’s my sous chef.”
The boy looks up and raises a brow in greeting. “Alright?”
“When we’re quiet, like just now, he works out in the kitchen garden. Jake, the head gardener, can’t keep on top of the place without about fifteen minions.” Gregor winks.
“Don’t let him catch you saying that,” Callum says, shaking his head and grinning.
“Och, he can take a joke.”
“You’d think,” Callum snorts. “Anyway, I’m away now. Martin and I are off to the pub later if you want to come,” he adds, looking at Gregor. “Minnie’s girlfriend’s band is playing after the quiz.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve got a hot date with Reacher on Netflix.”
Callum looks at me for a moment. “Would you like to come?”
“Oh no thanks,” I say automatically.
“You watching Reacher as well?”
I shake my head and laugh. “No, I’ve got some writing to do.”
“You canny work all day and all night,” Gregor chides. “Unless you’re hoping to get this job out of the way so you can get back to London?”
“Oh no, not that.” I feel shy about admitting that something in my brain has come untangled and I’ve got an idea for the second novel. “Just want to finish off a few bits.”
“I’ve made a lasagne for you for later.” Gregor waves an arm in the direction of the Aga. “It’s just you eating, so let me know where you want it. I’m guessing you don’t want to be sitting all on your lonesome in the dining room.”
“Here’s fine. But I can heat it up if you want to get off.” I think I can manage to shove something in the oven.
Gregor visibly brightens, his bright blue eyes twinkling. “Och, I told Janey you were a keeper and now I’m convinced. See what I mean?”
