Their Virgin Nanny by SC Daiko

Author:SC Daiko [Daiko, SC]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

THE HOUSE, built in the form of a half-H, is at the end of a long driveway with manicured lawns and a park full of trees, very Downton Abbey. There ain’t any servants like in the TV series, though; it’s too fucking expensive. The earl just employs a butler, a cook and a housekeeper… plus a team of gardeners to look after the grounds.

Gabe parks up at the front, in a kind of courtyard, opposite an oak door surrounded by four Corinthian pillars. “I’ll take the Audi round to the garages in the old stable block later,” he says.

We pile out of the car. I hold Matty’s hand and Gabe carries Jack, who’s just woken from a nap and is rubbing his eyes grumpily. Eleri trails behind, eyes wide in evident awe at her surroundings.

Mr Simmonds, the butler, comes down the short flight of steps at the entrance, and the earl is right behind him. Gabe’s father is in his mid-seventies, a tall man with silver hair and a florid complexion. Gabe says his dad enjoys wine to excess, but I’ve never seen him drink more than a couple of glasses the few times he’s visited us in London. “How was the drive?” Earl Grafton asks, referring to our journey.

“No hold-ups,” Gabe says, shaking his father’s hand. “For once they weren’t doing bloody road-works over a holiday weekend.”

The earl stares at Eleri, looking her up and down. “And who is this young lady?”

“Eleri, the boys’ nanny.” Gabe smiles. “We thought she could have the room next to the nursery so she’ll hear them if they call out during the night,” he gives the excuse we thought of as to why she’s with us. We’ve brought the child monitor, but Aldridge House doesn’t have WiFi so it might not work if the signal on our phones isn’t strong enough. Eleri’s assistance could, in fact, be vital.

Earl Grafton nods and, fuck me, Eleri bobs in a little curtsey, blushing prettily.

“Charming,” the earl says. “Now show me my grandsons.”

Gabe holds out the baby. “This is Jack, Father.”

Jack immediately lets out a wail of protest, squirming in Gabe’s arms.

“He’s hungry,” Eleri says as we step into the entrance hall. “It’s past the boys’ lunchtime.”

“Spoken like a true nanny,” the earl laughs. “Where’s Mrs Smith?” He glances around. “Ah, there she is,” he says, spotting his housekeeper. “Would you feed the boys and their nanny in the kitchen? I’ll take luncheon in the dining room with my son and his partner.”

I almost say, spoken like a true knob, but I bite my tongue.

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