The Billionaire's Housekeeper (Betsy Jones Book 1) - Unedited

The Billionaire's Housekeeper - Chapter 26

The kitchen was noisy, chaotic, and full of far too many people. Betsy's hair, which had been tied back in a braid, was started to unravel. Steam frizzed curls stuck out around her head in a fuzzy halo. Blowing at a strand hanging in front of her eyes, Betsy lifted the saucepan off of the cooker. Her clammy hands struggled for grip on the pan and hot water made a mad dash over the rim.

"Ouch," she screeched, the saucepan clattering on to the side with a loud bang. More boiling water spilt over the rim of the pan and soaked into the front of her blouse. "Damn it."

Pulling the shirt away from her body, Betsy hastily grabbed the dishtowel off of the side and patted at the wet material.

"Umm, mummy swore." Delilah giggled, her eyes glued to the mixing bowl in front of her.

Tommy laughed beside her, using his hands to mix the ingredients for the cookie dough while his wooden spoon remained untouched on the table top beside them. Neither noticed as Betsy froze, dishtowel in hand. For a moment she forgot all about the other people in the room as her lips curved up into a smile, her damp shirt forgotten as she hugged the dishtowel to her chest.

It wasn't the first time Delilah had slipped. It wasn't the first time the 'm' word had escaped her lips but Betsy had never made a big deal out of it. She didn't want to make her uncomfortable by drawing attention to the little slip. And, though Betsy hated herself for it, she would be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy it deep within her heart.

After the loss of Peter, and with the doctor's diagnosis that she would not have any further children of her own, she had never thought she would get to have that title. But with Nick, Delilah, and Tommy, she felt that she had a chance for a real family. They already felt like her own. Yet despite how well things were going, she dared not hope it could become a reality. Her heart couldn't cope with disappointment. It made these moments, when Delilah called her 'mummy' without a thought, simultaneously warm her heart and send a bolt of terror through her at the same time.

Her own thoughts on the little slip up did not matter in that moment. Carol's opinion matter a lot more. It was the first time the word has escaped the young girl's mouth when her grandmother was around. Even though it was completely beyond her control, Betsy still felt her stomach roll as guilt welled up within her.

Biting her lip, the blond turned her head.

She expected animosity but, as she set her gaze upon the older woman, her breath caught in her throat. Suddenly the woman, who always looked so severe in her tweed armour, looked fragile. Carol's pink painted lips pulled up into a smile yet her eyes were pained, the crow's feet at the corner of her eyes deepening with the strain.

Betsy took a step in her direction. The older woman waved her away, her emotions rapidly stuffed one by one behind the mask of aristocracy she wore so well. "Don't mind me. Age is just catching up with me."

Mrs Reed, with her white hair wrapped in curlers, chose that moment to shuffle into the kitchen. "Age? You're a spring chicken. Talk to me about age when you reach eighty."

The women laughed.

"Now, what's going on in here? You can cut the tension with a butter knife." Ms Reed asked, her sharp eyes moving back and forth between the pair of them. "And don't say 'it's nothing'. I'm old not dumb."

Betsy squirmed under the woman's stare, her own gaze flitting between Carol and the completely clueless children who were still elbow deep in dough. "It's best if it's not discussed in front of the children." She finally stated.

Carol held up her hand in protest. "There's nothing to discuss. Honestly, you're making this into a larger issue than it is." Her eyes, drawn without her control towards the children, shimmered with unshed tears. She drew in a deep breath and then, like the words had been forced from her, she murmured, "I just wish my daughter was alive to be a part of all these special moments. She never got to see Tommy reach his first birthday. She's never going to bake cakes with her children. She's never going to see any of the milestones."