I threw back my shoulders and stared down my nose imperiously. It would have been far more impressive if I'd had my father's rather remarkable Roman nose. Instead I had a small, perfectly straight one. However I'd been told I could look scary fierce when I needed to. So, scary fierce was what I did.
The boys tumbled to the floor in front of me, drawing themselves straight up and looking half terrified. Their green eyes were wide as they stared up at me. Gosh, they were cute. They'd have been a lot cuter if it hadn't been five in the freaking morning.
"This room is my domain," I snapped out. "It is off limits. Repeat after me: off limits."
"Off limits," the boys chanted in their adorable little accents. There was a moment's pause, and then the one on the left blurted, "What's 'off limits' mean?"
"It means, uh"—I scrambled for a phrase that might make sense to them—"out of bounds. Do you understand that?"
They both nodded eagerly.
"Excellent. From this day forward, if you require my assistance and I am within this room, you will knock and you will wait to enter until you have received my approval. What will you do from this day forward?"
"Knock and wait for you to say okay," they chimed.
"Excellent. Now, do you know what time it is?"
They stared at each other and then back at me, their eyes growing wider and their mouths making little O's. "Twelve o'clock," one of them suggested. I had no idea which twin it was. They were identical right down to the red footy pajamas.
"Not even close. It is five o'clock in the morning. This is Saturday. There is no school. Therefore there is no reason to be awake at this hour of the morning. Understood?"
They nodded. "But…"
"No buts. From this day forward, when it is the weekend, you will remain quietly in your rooms until the clock says seven. You do know how to read time, don't you?"
They both shook their heads. I didn't imagine they would ever be this cooperative again. I had to take advantage of it.
"Very well. That is the first thing we will learn this morning. Do you have a clock in your room?"
They shook their heads again. Well, that was another thing on the to-do list.
"Come here." I sat on the bed and patted the mattress. They both climbed aboard, and I spent the next few minutes instructing them on the telling of time using an old-fashioned clock face. Which, believe me, is no mean feat before coffee.
By the time we were done with our lesson, and the three of us were dressed with beds made, it was a reasonable hour for breakfast. I heard Viola banging around in the kitchen as we approached, and the rich scent of coffee filled the air.
"I didn't know you worked on the weekends," I said as I settled the boys at the kitchen island.
"I don't usually. But with the boys here, Ms. Bella needed extra help. And since this is your first day, I didn't want to leave you twisting in the wind."
I grinned. "I appreciate it."
"Here." She thrust a steaming mug of coffee in my direction. "Looks like you could use this."
"Oh, thank you. You've no idea." I took my first sip. Nirvana.
"Personally, there's nothing like good, strong, English tea, but I keep some Italian coffee around for Evander. He prefers it."
"I'll be sure and buy some of my own."
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said waving her hand. "I'll just double up next time I'm at the shop. Until then, Evan won't mind sharing." She gave me a pointed look, which I ignored. Apparently Viola thought Evander would be happy to share much more than coffee with me. The very idea thrilled me to my toes, but I couldn't dwell on that. I was here for a job, not a boyfriend. And as Bella had clearly stated last night, he was out of my league.
"Well, thanks again."
Viola slapped three bowls down on the island. "Porridge for breakfast. Eat up. You need your strength."
"Porridge" turned out to be oatmeal. The boys groaned and moaned and poked at the gray mush with their spoons.
"Oh, yum," I said with glee. "I love porridge."
The twins gave me doubtful looks.
"No, seriously. It's yummy. Viola, have you any brown sugar and raisins?"
Viola gave me a strange look. "Will sultanas do?"
I had no idea what sultanas were. "Um…"
Viola pulled out a box and handed it to me. Apparently sultanas were big raisins. "These will work."
She rummaged around in the cupboards and pulled out brown sugar. I proceeded to properly doctor my oatmeal before adding milk. The twins watched with interest as I took a bite, moaning in delight like it was the most exquisite dessert. Quickly they grabbed the bags, fighting over who would get to put brown sugar in their cereal first. Once they had fixed their own bowls, they chowed down like they hadn't been fed in a week.
"Well, I never," Viola said with a shake of her head. "Those boys never eat their porridge without a fight."
I grinned. "It's all in the approach."
# # #
By the time we finished breakfast, it was what the British refer to as "pissing down rain," or what we Americans call "raining cats and dogs." An hour later, the torrential downpour gave no sign of letting up, and the twins were getting restless.
Well, restless might be an understatement. The two of them started fighting over a crayon, and the next thing I knew, Reece had bashed Riley over the head with the first toy he could grab, which fortunately happened to be a stuffed rhinoceros. When they were little, one of my brothers had bashed the other over the
