anything you need at the village stores, I’ve an account there. Oh, and will you ask Mary to send on some undies and another dress? The grey cotton jersey will do—I’ve almost nothing with me.’
Deborah hung up and handed the message on, reflecting that it must be nice to have people to do things for you; she suspected that Mrs Burns had always had that from the moment she was born and kindly fate had handed her a doting husband who carried on the good work. Probably the horrible brother was her slave too, although, upon reflection, she couldn’t imagine him being anyone’s slave.
She had no time to reflect for long, however, Mary’s headache had gone but she was still lethargic so that Deborah found it prudent to do as much around the house as she could. At least dinner was almost ready by the time the twins were brought back, both in furious tears and looking as though their clothes hadn’t been changed for a couple of weeks. ‘They had a little upset,’ explained Aunty Doris with false sweetness, ‘they’re such lively little people.’
There was nothing for it but to be patient and put them into the bath, wheedle them into clean clothes and lastly load the washing machine once more, before sitting them down to a delayed dinner which they stubbornly refused to eat.
But after a long walk in the afternoon they cheered up, ate a splendid tea and went to their beds, looking too good to be true.
By the end of the next two days they had accepted Deborah as a great friend, a firm friend who didn’t allow them to have their own way, but who nevertheless was good fun. The days had settled into a routine, a rather dull one for Deborah but busy with washing and ironing and feeding and keeping the twins happy and amused. It was at the end of the first week when the twins, bored with being indoors all the morning because of the rain, started playing up. Providentially, the rain stopped after their dinner and, although it was still damp underfoot, Deborah stuffed small feet into wellies, tucked Dee snugly into her pram and went into the garden. There was a good sized lawn behind the house. She put the pram in a patch of watery sunshine, made sure that the baby was asleep and fetched a ball. But half an hour of kicking that around wasn’t enough for the twins, they demanded something else for a change. Deborah caught them in either hand and began to prance up and down the grass singing ‘Here we come gathering nuts in May’ and had them singing too, dancing to and fro with her.
Deborah didn’t know what made her turn her head. Gideon Beaufort was leaning on the patio rail, watching them, and even at that distance she took instant exception to the smile on his face.
CHAPTER TWO
DEBORAH STOPPED her singing and prancing so abruptly that the twins almost fell over. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Beaufort,’ she said in a cold way which was almost wholly swamped by the twins’ ecstatic shrieks, although half-way across the grass Simon turned to shout: ‘He’s not a mister, he’s a professor,’ before flinging himself at his uncle.
‘Very clearly put,’ observed the professor, disentangling himself slowly. ‘Now you can do the same for me and introduce Nanny.’
His nephew eyed him with impatience. ‘Well, she’s just Nanny…’
‘No name?’
He looked at Deborah and she said unwillingly: ‘Farley—Deborah Farley.’
‘Charming—a popular name with the Puritans, I believe.’ His voice was so bland that she decided to let that pass.
‘What’s a puritan?’ asked Suzy.
‘A sober person who thought it wrong to sing and dance and be happy.’
‘Nanny’s not one,’ declared his niece. ‘We’ve been singing and dancing,’ she explained earnestly.
The professor nodded. ‘Yes, and very nicely too.’ He smiled at Deborah who gave him a cool look; the gorgon’s rat trap still rankled.
‘Is Mummy coming?’ demanded Simon.
‘Not today old fellow—Granny’s better but not quite well yet. I thought I’d drop in and see how things are.’ He strolled over to the pram and peered inside. ‘Dee’s asleep— I’ve never seen such a child for dozing off.’ He glanced, at Deborah. ‘She must be very easy to look after.’
‘No trouble at all,’ agreed Deborah airily.
‘In that case perhaps I might stay for tea without straining your work load too much?’ He smiled again with such charm that she only just stopped in time from smiling back in return.
‘Certainly, Professor, the children will be delighted, won’t you, my dears? Mary did some baking this morning, so there’ll be a cake.’
Mary’s welcome was warm and seemed even warmer by reason of Deborah’s brisk efficiency. She wheeled the pram under the nursery window so that she might hear if Dee wakened; removed the twins to be tidied and washed for tea, sat them down at the table, one on each side of their uncle, and went to help carry in the tea tray, the plate of bread and butter and the cake Mary had so providentially baked.
The tea tray was taken from her as she entered the nursery by a disarmingly polite professor. What was more he remained so throughout the meal, talking nothings to her when not engaged in answering the twins’ ceaseless questions. Deborah felt a certain reluctance when it was time to feed Deirdre, but she got up from the table, excused herself politely, cautioned the twins to behave and made to leave the room. At the door she hesitated: ‘I get Dee ready for bed once she’s been fed,’ she explained, ‘so I’ll wish you goodbye, Professor, please tell Mrs Burns that everything is just as it should be.’
‘Oh, I’m staying the night. Did I not tell you? I’m so sorry.’ He sounded all concern, but all the same she knew that he was laughing silently. ‘Mary said that she would get a room ready for me.’ He added silkily: ‘You don’t mind?’
‘I, mind? Certainly not. It is none of my business, Professor Beaufort. I daresay you’ve also asked Mary to cook extra…’
‘No,’ he told her gently, ‘she suggested it. Should I have asked you?’
Deborah went pink; on the whole she was a good tempered girl but today her good nature was being tried severely; besides she had been rude.
‘I’m only in charge of the children,’ she told him, ‘Mary runs the house. Besides I’m only temporary.’
As she dealt with the small Dee’s needs, she could hear the twins giggling and shouting and the occasional rumble of their uncle’s voice. ‘They’ll be quite out of hand—I’ll never get them to bed,’ she observed to the placid infant on her knee. ‘He’ll get them all worked up…’
But surprisingly, when she went to fetch the twins for their baths and bed, they went with her like lambs. Not so much as a peep out of them and so unnaturally good that Deborah wondered if they were sickening for something. She put a small capable hand on their foreheads and found them reassuringly cool and finally demanded to know what was the matter with them.
They exchanged glances and looked at her with round blue eyes, ‘Uncle Gideon made us promise so we won’t tell. Are we being good?’
‘Yes—and I can’t think why.’ She gave them a close look. ‘You’re not up to mischief, are you?’
Meekly they assured her that they weren’t.
