They both exclaimed in unison, exchanging startled glances before rushing down the stairs and through the hallway to find Nancy and Belinda standing side by side in the middle of the kitchen, the former soaking wet and the latter covered from head to toe in white powder.
‘Oh!’ Henrietta slapped a hand over her mouth in surprise. ‘Oh, dear.’
‘I dropped the flour,’ Belinda explained, unnecessarily, putting her hands to her cheeks and making them look even worse. ‘I didn’t notice Nancy come in and I turned around and we bumped into one another and...’ Flour-covered hands moved to her forehead. ‘I’ll clear it up, I promise, every last speck.’
‘Don’t worry. There’s no point in crying over spilt...you know.’ Henrietta gave a reassuring smile, though unfortunately Sebastian was less charitable, his laughter clearly audible behind her.
‘You.’ Nancy pointed a finger accusingly. ‘This is all your fault.’
‘Me? How?’ He sounded faintly aggrieved.
‘Because I was rushing to get a bucket of water to hurl over you! You had no right to run past me!’
‘Then this serves you right, doesn’t it?’ He chuckled again. ‘I’d call that poetic justice.’
‘Do you know what else you can call it?’ Nancy started forward, arms pumping as if she w
ere about to throw more than a bucket.
‘Wait! You’d better go and change.’ Henrietta stepped swiftly between them. ‘And Belinda should go outside and brush herself down. I’ll start to clean up.’
‘While I watch the shop,’ Sebastian volunteered.
‘No!’ Nancy stopped and folded her soggy arms. ‘This is the last straw. We can’t go on like this, what with looking after the boys and teaching Belinda to bake and him visiting every five minutes.’ She threw another belligerent look at Sebastian. ‘The shop isn’t big enough for all of us.’
‘I know.’ Henrietta sighed. ‘But what’s the alternative?’
‘You can come north with me.’
‘What?’ She spun towards Sebastian, uncertain about which of them had just gasped the loudest, her or Belinda or even Nancy, as they all stared at him in amazement. It would have been a surprising enough offer even before what had just happened upstairs, but now...
‘Come with me,’ he repeated, more firmly this time. ‘Anna might be away, but my mother’s in Yorkshire. You can bring the boys, too. It’ll be a holiday for them.’
‘What about David? What if he comes back?’
‘Then he’ll come here and Miss MacQueen will tell him where you are.’
‘But I can’t just go to Yorkshire with you!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because...’ She gaped at him. There were almost too many reasons to name! The first and most obvious being, ‘It wouldn’t be seemly!’
‘We’ll be staying with my mother, grandmother and uncle. It won’t exactly be sordid.’
‘But your grandmother was a duchess!’
‘And?’
‘I can’t stay in the same house as a duchess!’
‘A dowager duchess.’
‘That’s not the point. What will she think if you turn up with a shop girl and three children in tow? It could ruin your chances of a reconciliation.’
‘If it does, then I don’t believe she’s someone I want to reconcile with.’
‘I won’t fit in!’