they traipsed along a paneled corridor. Harwood was coming through a door, looking as if he were about to collapse. He gave Claire a deferential nod in passing.
Claire hesitated, her eyes flitting from cousin to cousin. âOh! That bag wasâ¦?â Renie waggled a hand. Claire looked relieved. âThen this is your room⦠Renie .â The nickname tumbled off her tongue as if she were tasting it to make sure it wasnât too spicy. Claire indicated the door across the wide corridor. âThis is yours, Judith. Ordinarily, we have five extra rooms, but with Alexei and Natasha spending the weekend, we have only three. I hope theyâll do. Unfortunately, there are just two baths on this floor. Iâve already spoken with Alex and Nats about sharing.â
The cousins agreed that sharing was fine. Each of their appointed bedrooms was large, airy, and full of furniture that looked as if it should be housed in a museum. Renie had a nineteenth-century sleigh bed; Judithâs curtained and canopied four-poster probably had come with the house.
Trying to contain their elation at such luxury, the cousins bounded back and forth between the elegant bedrooms. Claire, however, was apologetic.
âThings are not what they once were,â she lamented. âAuntie has had to cut staff. Or, I should say, not replace them. Harwood and Auntieâs maid, Dora, are all thatâs left of the old servants. Doraâs very frail, and Harwoodâs never been the same since his knee was shattered at Messina during the Second World War. But of course the family was elated to get him back after he was invalided out of the service. The war took a terrible toll on the servant class. They wanted to do other things after demobilization. Itâsbeen very hard on people like Aunt Pet. Nowadays, we have to make do with Mrs. Tichborne, the housekeeper, and dailies from Great Pauncefoot. The same is true with the gardeners. The Beaker brothers come only once a week. Luckily, there are four of them.â
Judith was still smiling. âNo problem, Claire. The only help I have at Hillside Manor is a cleaning woman, Phyliss Rackley. Sheâs a daily, too. I guess.â Phyliss, with her fundamentalist credo and rampant hypochondria, was sometimes a daily pain in the neck. But she worked hard, and Judith couldnât run the B&B without her.
Harwood had reappeared, staggering down the corridor with Judithâs brown suitcase. Figuring him for over seventy, Judith at first wanted to offer to carry the luggage for him. But she realized the man had pride; a simple thankyou tumbled from her lips as he wheezed into the bedroom.
âBy the way,â Judith said, going to her suitcase, âwe brought you a couple of small hostess gifts from home.â She rummaged through her belongings, finally hauling out an assortment of Moonbeamâs exotic coffee beans and three boxes of Fandangos, Donner & Blitzen Department Storeâs prized chocolate truffles. The presents had been intended for Margaret, but it was only fitting to hand them over to Claire.
âOh! Thank you!â Looking somewhat bewildered, Claire juggled the bags and boxes. âThatâs ever so kind! Charles will be delighted.â Still appearing ill-at-ease, she suggested that the cousins rest a bit before luncheon.
Renie demurred. âRest? From what? Sitting on our dead duffs? We can eat any time as far as Iâm concerned.â
âWellâ¦â Claire seemed flustered. âIâm not sure when Charles will get back from his appointment. And I donât know where Nats is.â
âNats?â Judith recalled the earlier reference. âThatâsâ¦who? Another cousin?â
Claire nodded. âNatasha Karamzin, Alexeiâs sister. I had no idea they were coming down for the weekend until they arrived this morning in Alexâs car. I hope you donât mind. Theyâre rather engaging. Once you get used
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley