by Bay, Louise
I got no response, so I left the helicopter and headed toward the entrance to my building. Darcy might be distracting, beautiful and refreshingly open, but she was also infuriating as hell. She had my attention completely diverted from what I should be thinking about and instead wondering what “game on” meant, and whether she really did regret kissing me.
What was the matter with me? I needed to get a grip. Kick arse on my call and maybe reward myself this evening by blowing off steam with an uncomplicated fuck.
Chapter Eleven
Darcy
“It’s official, we’re at war,” I said as I opened the door to Aurora. I’d asked her to come over early before the Parish Council members arrived. I was on a charm offensive that would outdo Logan’s.
“With the Parish Council?”
“No, of course not. With Logan Steele.”
“War? I’m not sure we should be at war with any of the villagers.”
I sighed as I spun around. “He’s not a villager,” I replied. “Not really. He’s been here five minutes and it shows.” I led her into the glass-roofed sunroom which was all set out, ready for tea.
“This looks nice,” she said.
“Yes. W.I. jam, of course. We’ve tried to use things from the farm shop. I hope it’s part of the subliminal message.” We took our seats on two of the upholstered cream chairs that faced the door, therefore giving the Parish Council members the view of the gardens.
“And you’re sure we should be doing this?” Aurora asked. “You don’t think we’re meddling?”
How could she have any doubt? As soon as I’d returned from my kidnapping, I’d called around the members of the Parish Council and invited them over for tea. Although I was reasonably confident that they would reject Logan’s plans, I wanted to be sure. So at tea, I’d ensure they were all planning to vote against the plans and then give them the Westbury’s full support of their decision. The Westbury name still meant something around here, but Logan Steele was wealthy and influential in his field and I didn’t want the Parish Council intimidated.
“Of course, I’m sure. We want the Council to know they have our support. And I want to ensure they’ve thought of every way Logan’s plans could be disastrous.”
“I’m surprised you want to go against Logan.”
“This isn’t me against him, it’s us trying to maintain our beautiful village.”
“I just thought that, you know, since you kissed him and everything. Going to war with him doesn’t seem the natural first step in a relationship.”
“Please don’t remind me.” I guffawed. “And a relationship? That was never going to happen.” I’d considered having sex with him, but dating? He wasn’t at all husband material as far as I was concerned. “Anyway, he was probably just trying to get me on side so when he announced the plans I wouldn’t object.”
“You think he deliberately engineered bumping into you at the restaurant?”
“Don’t you start. He denied it vehemently, of course.”
“Well, to be fair, I don’t think he tricked you into kissing him.”
Aurora was right. I didn’t really think Logan engineered our run-in. I was just disappointed with the way things had turned out. I’d enjoyed his company at dinner and his kiss even more. I was annoyed at myself for thinking that maybe there might be something more. Something after the kiss. How could I have let myself like him?
“Probably not,” I conceded.
The butler, Lane, interrupted us. “Miss Darcy, Mr. Dawson and Mrs. Beadle,” he announced and I bounced to my feet to greet my guests with a double kiss. I’d known both of them since I was a child and they’d always been kind to me. Despite my ulterior motive in inviting them over—which they were bound to have guessed—it was genuinely good to see them.
“We were just saying that we haven’t been to Woolton Hall since the Duke died. Are you finding it terribly lonely?” Mrs. Beadle asked.
It was as if an icy breeze curled around my heart at the mention of my grandfather. I still missed him terribly. “I still feel his loss every day. But this year, the summer party will be back. The last couple of years were just too much, and I know he would have scolded me for letting the tradition lapse, so I’ll have to make it up to him this year and hold the best party that Woolton has ever seen.” The Woolton Hall Summer Ball had been the party where he’d met my grandmother, the place where I’d first seen my brother in love. And I knew he’d have been disappointed that we’d skipped it to tend to our grief. I wanted to make it up to him.
“I’m so pleased to hear that,” Mr. Dawson said. “You know how much everyone enjoys it.”
“As do I. And it’s so important to keep these traditions alive. It’s what we all try and do, after all. What kind of tea would everyone like?” I asked as Mrs. MacBee entered the room, bringing with her the other three council members, Mr. Newton, Miss Price and Mr. Adams.
With tea ordered and everyone in their seats, I decided to take the bull by the horns. “Speaking of keeping up traditions, I was surprised to see the plans that the new owner of Badsley House had submitted,” I said.
“They’re certainly ambitious,” Mr. Adams said.
I held his gaze, willing him to add to what he’d said. I wanted to know whether or not he thought ambitious was good or bad, but before he could say anything more, Miss Price interrupted. “I can’t think of anything worse,” she said. “All those awful city types stamping through our little slice of heaven.”
My heart swelled. I knew Susan would understand. We were on the fundraising committee for the local mobile library and we both cared passionately about the community.
“I think it would be a real shame to turn Woolton into a huge tourist town,” I said, leaning forward to move the vase of peonies, ready for the tea that Mrs. MacBee would bring through, and trying to seem relaxed, as if the plans for Manor House Club had just come up in casual conversation.
“But at the same time.” Mr. Newton tapped his finger against his leg. “Logan makes a good point about providing local employment for the village.”
I turned to Susan to see if she’d fight our corner, but Mrs. Beadle spoke up. “Yes, there will be construction jobs, but they’re not likely to be local. So, long-term, he means a few bar and restaurant staff. I’d prefer to see another restaurant opened in the village than some exclusive club that won’t be open to villagers unless we pay thousands of pounds of membership fees.”
“That’s an excellent point,” I replied and glanced at Aurora, wondering why she hadn’t joined in yet.
“I don’t like the exclusive nature of it either,” Mr. Dawson said. “It will be a huge part of the village, but exclude local people. That doesn’t sit right with me.”
I shook my head. “City people.” I sighed.
“Well, maybe we can talk to him, get him to give free membership to residents of the village,” Mr. Newton said.
“Do you think he’d do that? I’m not sure how exclusive it would be if he started handing out memberships to us villagers.” I shrugged.
Mrs. MacBee brought in the tea and set it down. I set about pouring drinks for everyone while I listened to everyone’s opinion. I wanted to know how hard I was going to have to work to get Logan’s plans defeated.
“You know the thing I’m worried about?” I said in a lull in the conversation. “The drinking and what that does to people. Remember the Foleys?”
“I don’t think it would be like that. That was a specific issue with that couple. And remember, Mrs. Steele grew up in this village. She doesn’t want it ruined any more than we do.” Mr. Adams smiled as I handed him his tea.
They had to understand that Mrs. Steele probably didn’t have any control over Logan’s plans. Surely she would have already persuaded him to change his mind if she could have.
“That’s a good point,” Miss Price murmured. “My mother knew her when she lived here after her husband died. She seems like a very nice woman. One of us.”
I nodded.
I couldn’t disagree with her. Partly because it was true, and also because as much as I might want to win this battle with Logan, I didn’t want to do it by trying to tarnish his grandmother in any way.
“And I suppose I’m a little concerned that Woolton will suffer the same fate as Kingsley. Once the floodgates are open, there’s no going back.”
“That’s exactly what I said.” Susan took a sip of her tea. “It’s the beginning of a slippery slope.”
Over the course of the conversation, the pile of sandwiches in front of us was replenished three times. It was pretty clear the Parish Council was split. Mr. Newton and Barry Adams were the most open to it. And Susan and Mrs. Beadle were set against it. Mr. Dawson seemed to change his mind, depending on the last thing that was said. At least now I knew where I stood and who I had to persuade.
Logan Steele might have a brilliant business brain, but he shouldn’t have underestimated me. He should have taken more time to understand the importance of tradition and connections in a village like Woolton.
Chapter Twelve
Logan
I hadn’t expected to crave the countryside. I was looking forward to seeing my grandmother this weekend, but more than that, I wanted to be surrounded by trees, grass and blue skies rather than brick, glass and tarmac. The air was cleaner, the pace slower—colors seemed brighter, the smiles more genuine.
The week in London had taken its toll, and by Friday afternoon I couldn’t wait to get back to Badsley House. The helicopter landed in the gardens and the stress of the day began to slip away. It was also nice to get distance from my business. I left Badsley more focused, and found I looked at problems with a fresh perspective when I returned to work.
I waved at my grandmother, who was sitting out on the terrace. It was good to see her so happy here. After Darcy’s visit, she’d had a number of visitors drop by and she seemed to be enjoying being back home.
Dipping my head, I headed over to the terrace from the helicopter, I saw my grandmother had a visitor. But it wasn’t Darcy Westbury this time.
“Hello, darling, come and join Patricia and me for some tea,” my grandmother said as I approached, kissed her on the cheek, then shook hands with our visitor, a slight woman who I’d estimate was in her early sixties.
“Delighted to meet you, Patricia,” I said.
“And you. I’ve heard so much about you, so it’s nice to be able to put a face to a name.”
“Patricia’s come to ask us a favor,” my grandmother said.
“Really?” I asked. “What can we do?” I asked, pulling up a chair.
“Well, I’m chair of the local fundraising committee for our mobile library, and I was hoping for your support.”
“Of course, how can I help?” I crossed one leg over the other, letting the sun soak into my face, the week’s strain chased away by the warmth.
“We have a fundraising target of fifteen thousand pounds this year. Those funds go toward maintenance of the truck that transports the books and payment of the driver.”
“I’m happy to donate. I can let you have a check. But what can I do that’s more practical? I have a contact at one of the big publishers. I can see if they have any books that might add to your stock.”
Patricia set her teacup down. “Well, that would be simply wonderful. Our readers tend to enjoy fiction, especially cozy mysteries, but anything would be a bonus. Thank you. Of course, we’d love to have you on our committee if you can spare the time.”
The cogs in my brain started whirring. Since I’d last seen Darcy, her words “game on” had echoed in my brain. There was little doubt that she didn’t like the plans I had for Manor House Club, and although I’d already decided to try to talk her through what I hoped to achieve, I wasn’t convinced I’d have her on side by the end of it. I expected opposition and knowing who my opponents were and why they took the position they did helped me form an offense and defense. I needed to get to know some of the Woolton villagers better. But I didn’t have the time and I didn’t make commitments that I wasn’t sure I could fulfill.
“That’s very kind of you, but I’m not sure I can commit to a position on the committee. I have a number of members of my team who I know would jump at the opportunity and are even better than me at coming up with creative solutions to problems.”
Her cup at her lips, Patricia froze, her eyes wide. “That’s a lovely thought, but we only have local people on the committee.”
She probably thought I was an arsehole for trying to delegate a place on the committee, but realistically, there was no way I could be a regular attendee at meetings. And I didn’t half do things or say I was going to do something and then let people down. That was my father. Not me. “Well, perhaps I could come along as your guest, Patricia. Not a member, but just someone who might be able to help. Every six months or so.”
“Wonderful,” she said. “We need fresh ideas on the committee, and we’re thrilled you want to be part of our village. There’s a meeting tomorrow morning at ten if you’re free.”
“I’ll make sure I am.” Darcy wouldn’t expect me to get to know the villagers. She’d count on having more influence with them, but if I made an effort to get to know them, I could at least communicate my point of view. Maybe even gain a few supporters. I’d had the best lawyers draw up the application to the Parish Council so I’d have the best possible chance of fulfilling any technical requirements, but I also understood that the first step in any planning process was easily influenced by the non-technical.
“I’ll take you down to the farm shop before the meeting, Granny. Then drop you back.”
“Oh, that’s so nice that you support our village farm shop,” Patricia said.
“Of course. We’re a big supporter of local producers. We want to be a real part of the village.”
Patricia beamed. “Well, I’m excited for you to get involved.”
“As am I. Now, if you’ll excuse me while I change into my comfortable clothes? I never feel quite like me in a suit.” Perhaps I was laying it on a little thick, but I wanted to be sure there was an alternate argument in circulation when Darcy began to paint me as a corporate monster.
“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
I slipped into the house, ready for a hot shower. I always felt dirty when arriving back at Badsley from London, so I hadn’t really lied about being uncomfortable in my suit. I’d never found myself feeling that way before spending my weekends in the country. But I found myself wearing ties less and less often, even when I was back in London. Here in Woolton, I was more comfortable in jeans and a shirt. And I was genuinely pleased to help out the fundraising committee. And if it made the likelihood of the village accepting Manor House Club, then all the better.
Chapter Thirteen
Darcy
There was nothing like an explosion of fresh color to brighten people’s moods. The farm shop was no exception. “There,” I said, placing a jug of hand-picked lilacs onto the counter by the till. “I knew that would cheer the place up.” I came down to the farm shop a few times a week. Rory was an excellent manager, so I didn’t need to supervise him. But still, I wanted to show my support, so I always bought a couple of things and caught up with a few neighbors.
“Darcy,” someone called from behind me. I turned and found Mrs. Steele using her walking stick as she ambled through the door.
“Mrs. Steele,” I said, racing forward to help her before I realized Logan was behind her. “So nice to see you down here. Can I help you with anything?” I avoided looking at Logan. He hadn’t so much as apologized for kidnapping me and I wasn’t a Stockholm Syndrome sufferer. He’d been completely out of line. That man was far too used to everyone in his orbit being at his beck and call.
“We’re just here to browse, although we’re nearly out of that lavender honey I like so much,” she said, heading toward the jams, marmalades and chutneys section. “You are looking very pretty today, Darc
y,” she said. “Isn’t she, Logan?”
“Please, Mrs. Steele. I don’t have a scrap of makeup on, and these jeans have a hole in them.”
“She always looks beautiful, grandmother,” Logan said, and I did my best not to roll my eyes.
“You must drop by while Logan is home for the weekend.” Mrs. Steele tapped me on my arm. “Perhaps you’ll join us for dinner one evening?”
Mrs. Steele was clearly still trying to play matchmaker. Little did she know there was little prospect of Logan and I being friends, let alone anything more.
“That is so kind of you, but I have a packed schedule this weekend. Perhaps next week? You’d be welcome to come up to Woolton for supper. I can collect you,” I said.
She turned to Logan. “Are you free for supper with Darcy or are you in London all week?”
My stomach churned. Why did she have to assume that the invitation extended to her grandson?
Out of the corner of my eye, Logan’s gaze flickered to me. “I’m sure I could make a mid-week trip for dinner with you and Darcy.”
My heart sank. The last thing I wanted to do was be polite to someone who didn’t think twice about turning the lives of an entire village upside down. Someone who didn’t give it a second thought before hoisting me over their shoulder and dragging me to London against my will. Someone I’d kissed.
“Perfect,” Mrs. Steele said. “Then you just tell us when, Darcy, and we’ll be there. I’d love to see the house, and from what I hear, your gardens are simply fantastic.”
“Excellent,” I said through gritted teeth. “Wednesday works for me, if that’s convenient,” I said, hoping the middle of the week wouldn’t work for Logan.
“Sounds perfect,” Logan said.
“Well, I must be going,” I said, still refusing to look at him. “I have a meeting to get to.” The mobile library fundraising committee meeting didn’t start for twenty minutes, and it was only a ten-minute walk, but I needed to leave before I got into any more trouble. Inadvertently, I’d managed to ensure that I was going to have to entertain Logan in my own home this week. I dreaded to think what I’d do next if I didn’t get out of there.