Martha Fletcher has only ever had one job- Executive Assistant to Sam Courtenay.
She'll schedule his diary, pick up his dry cleaning, usher girls out of his apartment first thing in the morning... nothing was out of bounds until one night, that blur...
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Since Martha declined the invitation to come to Amesbury with me for Easter, I made her promise to join us the weekend after. It took a bit of persuading and I had to invite half her family along just so she'd say yes but after all that, Martha finally packed a weekend bag and jumped in the car. She whined for the entire drive and wouldn't stop asking me a million and one questions about my grandmother; her Spanish Inquisition put the real Spanish Inquisition to shame.
She asked about my grandmother, my grandfather, and even my father but knew better than to ask about my mother. She wanted to know where they had all been born, where did they grow up, when did they get married, when did they die or get divorced, what they liked, what they disliked, and everything else in between. I answered as best I could but just as I responded to one question, Martha would ask another.
Eventually, Martha stopped her interrogation just as I pulled up into the driveway of the main house on the estate. Seeing the property, Martha went quiet for the briefest moment, right before another round of questions came flying my way. How long had the estate been in my family? How many houses were on the estate? Was Stonehenge part of the estate, too?
Inevitably, Gran came out to greet us, Baxterley hot on her heels. They rush towards the first car in the convoy, the one that belongs to my brother, and my grandmother goes straight to the back door, opening it so she could be the first to hold Léa. Cradling her great-granddaughter, Gran approaches the next car and beckons Evie's two boys out, wrapping her arms around them and showering them with affection. Being the last car, I had enough time to grip Martha's hand before Gran came face to face with her. Shooting her a reassuring grin, I open my door, get out and round the back of the car so I could open the door for Martha.
"There you are, Samuel," Gran beamed as she neared me. Edging closer, instead of hugging me like she did with everyone else, she palmed the baby off to me and made a beeline for Martha. "Hello. You must be Samuel's girlfriend. I've heard a lot about you."
I groan. "Don't believe everything Daniel tells you." When Gran shakes her head, I roll my eyes and add, "And definitely don't believe what Evie tells you."
"Well, am I allowed to believe what Charlotte tells me?" My grandmother pointedly asks, her piercing eyes making me wither under her glare. She winks at Martha. "She tells me absolutely wonderful things. Now that Samuel is on babysitting duties, come and join the rest of the ladies and me. We're having afternoon tea on the patio. I'll let you change first. Baxterley will show you to your room. It's in the East Wing. Samuel's room is in the West Wing. Am I clear?"
Martha opened her mouth to protest but immediately decided against it. "Absolutely clear, ma'am."
"Dear, don't call me ma'am, that's reserved for the Queen and as much as I act like royalty around here, I am not Her Majesty," Gran laughs. Snapping her fingers at Baxterley, the butler nears us and bows his head in greeting. "Baxterley, take Miss Fletcher's bags up to Samuel's room. I was only joking about sleeping in the East Wing. I'm not joking, however, when Is ay that you have ten minutes to change."
