Winter's End Part 5

CHAPTER 6.

Nancy fired up the hearth in the parlour. The twigs spat in the fiery tongues of the fire,1 immersing the small room with the warmth from its flames. She sped down to the kitchen to prepare tea for her mistress and her young guest.

It was not always that people came calling to the old house, and it was not always that Mrs. Kinnaird welcomed them as she did Mrs. Winston.

A sudden thought occurred to her and she stood still wondering if she could make any sense of it. Could it possibly be that her elderly mistress...?

She shook her head from the ludicrosity of such an idea and carried on with the task of making some delicious black tea. She reached for some delicate china tea cups and placed them onto a silver tray.

A rustle at the door caught her attention. It was Theodore stumbling through the doorway.

"You might want to add an extra cup to that tray, Nancy," he said.

"You're having tea with Mrs. Kinnaird?" she asked.

"No," he replied, opening the kitchen cupboards. "I'd rather have a swig of brandy." He put the bottle to his mouth and gulped down a mouthful of the burnt wine.

"That's quite early for the morning, don't you think?"

"Yeah. And so is Mrs. Deanna Boyd." He sat heavily into a chair.

"Oh," said Nancy speechless. "She's staying for breakfast?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "And a whole lot more."

She arranged the tea and sweet nibbles onto her tray and then studied the small ensemble of what would have been a beautiful, delicious breakfast.

"Do you want to take it up?" she asked hopefully.

Theodore rose to his feet and straightened his tie. He then picked up the tray, giving Nancy a woeful look. "Well, she's here now," he said and walked out of the kitchen with it.

The earlier light drizzle of snow had stopped and the rays of sunlight was now peeking over the low c.u.mulus clouds. Emma would have found it pretty, had Ethel's scowl not kept her from enjoying it.

It was strange thinking of Mrs. Kinnaird as Ethel. It made her young all over again. Emma could see past the crows feet at the ends of her eyes and the wrinkles that spread randomly over her face. The Ethel she now saw was young and beautiful and the scowl she carried was beginning to charm her.

It didn't take much for Emma to discern that Ethel's sudden foul disposition was due to the other woman's presence in the room.

"Oh, cousin Ethel," the woman said. "We're still not over the winter yet. It is far too dangerous for you to go walking out in all that snow. You've just recovered from that cold earlier on in the season."

"Well," Ethel harrumphed. "You for one have impeccable timing. You know exactly when to call in during those days. One must think you must be praying for it."

"Oh Ethel," Mrs. Boyd groaned as she daintily placed her tea cup on the coffee table. "You are such a tease. I do of course pray for you. In fact I made a special visit to church last week to ask for the reverend's blessings for you."

"Why?" said Ethel, rolling up her eyes. "Has he made some sort of dealing with you?"

"Ethel," Mrs. Boyd said, her voice slightly startled. "Well, in fact, I prayed for your long life and good health."

"What is the name of the reverend?"

"Why?" Mrs. Boyd asked nervously.

"I have a complain to lodge. His prayers aren't working well enough. My health seemed to have declined since."

"Oh, Ethel," Mrs. Boyd groaned. "It isn't the poor reverend's fault. You are walking about in the early hours of the morning when you should have been warm in bed."

"Just give me the name of the reverend, Deanna. I have a special request to make," Ethel said, silently wis.h.i.+ng that her husband's second cousin would be slapped with a bite of amnesia and forget her way to the Kinnaird mansion ever again. "I also want to have a word with him about why your prayers are failing to reach the ears of G.o.d. He's not Reverend Clive, is he? Because the man can't pray a darned worth. And I refuse to comply to his blessings."

Mrs. Boyd shocked beyond belief, waved her hands dismissively. "No, of course it wasn't Reverend Clive. He is a much younger reverend," and she added quickly. "Whom you've never met. But really, Ethel, do you have to be so blasphemous. The reverend is a man of G.o.d. At least give him the deserved respect."

"Deanna," Ethel said firmly, leaning forward. "The man is a close-minded, opinionated piece of human twaddle. An entire sack worth of baloney."

Mrs. Boyd gasped. Ethel smiled. She loved that she could evoke that in the meddlesome, imposing Mrs. Boyd.

Emma s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in her chair. She tried to keep her attention on the icicles frozen onto the branches of the fir tree, glimmering outside the parlour window.

"Mrs. Winston, you've just moved next door to the Kinnaird Mansion, have you?" Mrs. Boyd said, turning her attention to Emma.

"Yes, yes I have," Emma stammered.

"I'm so sorry about your husband. I heard. It must be such a tremendous task bringing up young children all on your own," Mrs. Boyd shook her head sorrowfully.

Emma flushed.

Ethel lifted an eyebrow curiously. "Tell me, how did you hear, Deanna? As far as I know, you crossed The Minch not a couple of hours ago."

"I have friends Ethel, that are happy to keep an eye on you," Mrs. Boyd said firmly.

"And that includes my neighbours as well?"

"You could at least be grateful that I care for you, Ethel," Mrs. Boyd exclaimed.

"I don't need people prying in my business, Deanna," Ethel growled. "And if I do find who they are, you can very well convey it to them that they will be very sorry they ever did."

"If that is your wish, I shall certainly not ask of you again," Mrs. Boyd said. Her voice quivered from holding back the tears in her eyes.

Emma pulled out a tissue from the little wicker tissue box on the table and handed it to her.

Mrs. Boyd thanked her and dabbed her eyes gently with it.

Ethel huffed angrily.

"So Mrs. Winston," Mrs. Boyd said between sniffles. "Have you met Chris?"

"Um, no, I haven't," Emma answered.

"Chris is in LA," said Ethel, heaving out a tired sigh. "He has been all winter. Is that why you're here, Deanna?"

Emma hurriedly put her cup onto the coffee table.

"Ethel, I really do need to get on my way home," she said standing up. "The children have been left far too long alone."

"Of course you must," Ethel said, nodding her head. "Theodore will make sure you get home safely."

Emma paid her leave to Mrs. Boyd and rushed out of the cosy parlour and into the cold hallway.

"Miss," she heard Theodore call out to her as she reached the bottom landing of the staircase.

"Mrs. Winston," said Theodore catching up to her. "Please let me drop you off in the car."

"That's okay, Theodore. The snow has eased and the sun will do me the world of good."

"The lady would want it, Miss."

"Um, okay," she replied hesitantly.

The loud argumentative voices above them caught their attention.

"I had better check up on them one more time," said Theodore, his right eyebrow arched up. "Give me a minute."

She watched him skip up the staircase and towards the parlour. She now stood alone in the expansive sitting room. Her eyes wandered up the white walls and tall arched windows.

A large painting took prominence on the wall across her. She recognised it to be a Baroque painting of Odysseus and Calypso in a cave. As she stepped forward to take a closer look, she heard the clutter of dishes coming from the door closest to where the painting hung.

She pushed forward the double action doors that opened into a narrow corridor. She followed the sounds, walking soon into a large kitchen.

A woman was fis.h.i.+ng for something in her cupboards, her back towards Emma, unaware at all that she was there. As she turned, she almost let out a startled gasp.

"Mrs. Winston," she said. "What are you doing here?!" and then corrected the tone in her voice. "Sorry, maam. You got me startled a bit there. Is there something you need Mrs. Winston?"

"I'm ...sorry," Emma stammered embarra.s.singly.

"Was there something I can help you with, Miss?"

"No, I'm fine," Emma said. "I was simply waiting for Theodore in the living room when I heard you back here. I thought I might stop by and give you my thanks for the delightful tea."

Nancy chuckled. "You're welcome, Miss. I'm only doing my job, following the mistress's orders and all. Was the company as delightful, though?"

Emma blushed.

Nancy chuckled again. "No, you needn't answer that. I can imagine."

"Will Ethel be alright?"

"Ethel? You mean Mrs. Kinnaird? Golly, she must like you a lot to let her call her by her first name," she frowned. "Yes, yes, she will be fine. But after the showdown with Mrs. Boyd, she will certainly carry a tantrum for the next couple of days after Mrs. Boyd's gone. Takes her a while to ease off on the anger. But other than that, there is really no cause to be worried about her. She's fit as a fiddle, Mrs. Kinnaird is. Although her age will never reveal it so."

Emma gave a small smile. She was glad to see Ethel was being served by good and loyal staff.

"There you are," Theodore said from behind her. "I didn't see you and thought you had left without me."

"I kind of wandered in here," Emma said with a shrug.

"Yes, but these are staff quarters, Mrs. Winston," he said. "I just don't want any trouble from the mistress."

"Don't take it personally, Miss," said Nancy. "But no one comes down here. No one. Not even Mr. Cameron or his guests."

"You make it sound mysterious and forbidding, Nancy," Theodore grumbled. "It's just we need to clear it out with the mistress, should you ever decide to visit Nancy again. She can be quite the chatterbox. I understand why you would want to return here. I do also for the same reasons."

"I understand," Emma chuckled. "Of course."

Emma didn't see or hear from Ethel Kinnaird for a while. So when she opened the door one early afternoon, she was surprised to find her at her doorstep.

"h.e.l.lo there," she said in a rather cheery tone. "I thought I might drop by and introduce myself to the children."

Ethel made herself quite comfortable as she got chatting with the children. She noticed that both Jai and Hannah quickly developed a strong affinity for the older woman. She saw a small dimple form in the woman's cheeks whenever she let out a hearty, croaky chuckle. She never noticed it before.

Jai spent the afternoon bragging about his new high-powered electric planes and even let Ethel take a spin at it in the backyard. After which, Hannah triggered an unending set of riddles and jokes between themselves.

"So how have you been spending your winter days when you're not in school?" Ethel asked after another bout of laughter.

"What can we do but play indoor games and watch telly," Jai complained. "There isn't really much to do in Skye, is there?"

"Really?" said Ethel. "Is that all you've been doing? Well, we certainly must do something about that, Theodore."

Jai and Hannah stared at her with unbelief.

"What...are you...thinking of doing?" Jai asked slowly with curiosity.

"Well, we haven't taken out Lady Loch out in a long time. Maybe we should fire her up for spring."

"Who is Lady Loch?" asked Hannah "My boat," said Ethel. "I think this would be a good time to take her out. It hasn't seen the water in a long time."

"But what about winter? And the snow?" asked Hannah, clearly worried. "It was terrible a few days ago."

Ethel let out a giggle. "Oh no, honey. Those were rare days in Skye. You see, Skye lies in the path of the Gulf Stream. And because it is only a small island, the weather conditions are completely determined by the sea that surrounds it, which also keeps the snow at bay."

"Just like London?"