a general looking over new recruits and finding them wanting. One thing was clear. Ina Borsch expected everyone to acknowledge her position and authority as housekeeper and behave accordingly.
It wasn’t Ashley’s nature to knuckle under anyone, but the whole situation had put her off-balance. At the moment, she had little choice but to play the role that Jill had forced on her.
Mrs. Borsch glanced around the nursery. “I think you’ll find all the supplies you need. Even though it’s been some time since we had a baby in the house, I made sure that all the necessities are here.”
“Yes, I found the diapers and bottle warmer.” Ashley told her, hoping she sounded more motherly than she felt. “I’ll be needing to sterilize some bottles for Davie and make some more formula for his next feeding.”
“Lily will see to those needs,” the housekeeper said with a dismissing wave of her large hand.
“Lily?”
“One of the housemaids. Mr. Vandenburg has left instructions that Lily is to be assigned to the nursery while you are here.”
Once again, Ashley could tell from the woman’s tone that this decision wasn’t hers. Obviously the welcome mat wasn’t out for Jill Gordon as far as Ina Borsch was concerned. Was it a personal prejudice, or was there something deeper at the root of her simmering hostility? Ashley decided to play the innocent and see what she could find out about the household from this martinet housekeeper.
“Mr. Vandenburg is such a nice man,” Ashley said in her sister’s bubbly tone. “He’s always been so good to Budge and me. I just know I’m going to love being here. Benny and Pamela are such darlings. And that nice Mr. Stone, meeting me the way he did and all. Is he related to Hugo, too?” Her chatter sounded so false in her own ears that Ashley was secretly embarrassed by it.
“No, Kyle Stone is an employee like the rest of us. Mr. Vandenburg leaves him in charge when he’s away on business.” Then her heavy chin lifted. “The house and staff are my responsibility, and I handle them as I see fit.”
“It can’t be easy,” Ashley said, sinking so low as to try and soften her up by the use of flattery. “You must have an awfully big staff to run this house.”
“Only when Mr. Vandenburg is in residence, then the staff is doubled. When he’s away, there are two maids, a cook, my husband, Joseph, and Mr. Stone…and now you,” she added. Once again, her disapproval was obvious. “This is the first time the grandchildren have required a nanny. Usually they travel in the summer with their parents.”
Ashley remembered Pamela’s remark that it was their grandfather’s fault that they were spending the summer here. “Then the children are not used to a nanny?”
“Not at their grandfather’s house. You’re the first.” And her tone inferred that she hoped she would be the last.
“Have you been here a long time, Mrs. Borsch?” Ashley prodded. She wanted to relay all the information she could to Jill, so her twin wouldn’t have to start from square one learning about the staff.
Surprisingly enough, Ina Borsch seemed willing to talk about herself. “Up until five years ago we were in Mr. Vandenburg’s Atlanta household. When his wife died, he bought this place. My husband enjoys the island more than I do,” she said flatly. “Joseph is the groundskeeper and helps me in the house when there are extra duties. He’ll be bringing up your luggage. And as soon as Lily finishes her chores in the kitchen, she can tend to your needs.” Her tone made it clear that a nanny’s presence in the house caused everyone more work. “You will be responsible for making your own bed daily and for keeping your room and the nursery in presentable order. Once a week, one of the maids will clean.”
Ashley nodded. Keeping the nursery, bedroom and bath in presentable condition wouldn’t be any hardship. She wasn’t used to hired help, but she didn’t know about Jill. Housekeeping wasn’t one of her twin’s strong suits.
Apparently, Mrs. Borsch had decided that she’d wasted enough time in chitchat. She took a sheet of folded paper from her pocket and placed it on a small table near the rocking chair where Ashley was rocking the baby. “Mr. Vandenburg left this for you. It’s a daily schedule for the children. You are to spend from nine until twelve every morning in the library with them, supervising organized activities such as reading, art and music. They have all the materials they need, and he assumed that you would be able to manage such educational supervision.”
“I believe I can handle it,” Ashley said, smothering a smile. She was quite practiced in lecturing a theater of college students on those subjects. She was certain she could manage the studies of an eight- and a ten-year-old.
“Mr. Vandenburg has requested that you spend two to three hours in the afternoon on outside activities. These could include swimming, hiking, outdoor games, beach walking and any other activities that seem appropriate.”
Ashley nodded. The schedule seemed deceptively easy, and mingled with a sense of relief was a suspicion that the formidable housekeeper was holding something back.
“During your morning and afternoon activities, Lily will tend the baby and also, during the lunch and dinner hours. You will eat in the small dining room with Mr. Stone when he’s present, and alone when he’s away from the house.”
“And the evenings?”
“The children will amuse themselves with television, games or other chosen activities. Lily will make certain that lights are out by eight-thirty. Are there any questions?”
Mrs. Borsch’s authoritative manner did not invite any discussion, and Ashley wondered how soon it would be before the two children rebelled against such a regimented routine. If Pamela and Benny had never stayed here without their parents, she doubted that this rigid daily structure was one they were used to.
“The schedule seems workable,” Ashley lied.
Mrs. Borsch surveyed the contented baby in Ashley’s arms, and for a moment Ashley thought she might say something soft and gentle, but instead she frowned. “I hope you can keep him quiet during the night. None of us want to lose our sleep listening to a crying baby.”
“I’ll do my best, but he’s had a touch of colic that makes him fretful at night.”
Without commenting, the housekeeper turned toward the door, and Ashley watched her broad straight back disappear into the hall. No welcome mat, for sure, on Mrs. Borsch’s part. Maybe Jill would be able to thaw the housekeeper out, Ashley thought, feeling as if she’d just flunked some kind of test.
Ashley had the baby over her shoulder, burping him when a tall, angular, gray-haired man appeared in the doorway of the nursery.
“Where do you want the bags?” His weathered face, shadowed eyes and lean cheeks lacked any hint of a smile. If anything, Joseph Borsch was more reticent than his wife.
“In the bedroom, please.” She could sort out the baby’s things later and put them away in the chest of drawers under the diapering table. “Thank you.”
He just nodded, left the luggage and then disappeared without any indication that she was any more than a chore to be finished with as soon as possible.
Carefully getting to her feet, Ashley put the sleeping baby down in the crib that had been made up with pretty bedding. Davie looked perfectly happy and contented in his new surroundings, which was more than she could say for herself. She’d never felt more out of place in her life.
When she went into the adjoining bedroom to unpack, Jill’s leather luggage looked totally unfamiliar sitting in the middle of a beautiful Asian rug. Just as the purse she’d been carrying with all of Jill’s identification felt foreign to her, Ashley had trouble identifying with the matching suitcases and cosmetic bag bearing her sister’s name.
As she hung up Jill’s wardrobe, the charade she was playing suddenly hit home. The whole idea of trying to live her sister’s life for her, even for a few days, demanded a kind of deceit that