The Wedding Agreement (The Green Family Series Book 1)

by Annie Dyer

  He shut me up with another kiss, this one to my mouth, and before I had time to realise it, the same effect had been had as last time and I melted into him, his hands in slightly more publicly acceptable places, but on me all the same.

  He controlled it and I reacted, letting myself be led, and when it ended, I felt like something was missing.

  “Just enjoy the moment, Imogen. I’ll see you Friday.”

  He left me at my door holding the roses and my heart in my hands, almost offering it to him.

  Chapter Nine

  Noah

  I hadn’t brought many girls home. Probably four in total, including Carla and now Imogen. I had a girlfriend stay for a few days during a holiday from university; she’d been from Australia and hadn’t wanted to return home, so we’d spent a long summer touring the UK, visit the Giant’s Causeway and Dublin, and driving along the north Scottish coast. Lady S had agreed we could stay for a few days, and we spent them wandering the Norfolk coast, checking out the geographical sights, as that was her subject. I learned more about my country that year than any geography lesson could ever have taught me, and I also learned how exactly to make a woman come by going down on them. The other girl was someone I was involved with for a few months when I was twenty-six. She was the daughter of a viscount, and Lady S had been very thrilled with the whole thing. Unfortunately, my estate wasn’t large enough for Alicia’s liking – no euphemism intended, as that was plenty big enough – and she married a lord who was twice her age. He died a few years after, leaving her his widower and sole heir. She then went on to marry her PT.

  It was Imogen I was most nervous about taking home though. Not because I was worried about how Lady S would present. My mother would display her manners and be interested, of course, because that was how she’d been taught to be. I was more worried that Immy would see what my family was like, turn tail and leg it as fast as she could back to the city.

  There was also the hall, which could be considered imposing, unless you saw it early in the morning when it was usually drenched in mist from the fens, or at night when it was dark and you couldn’t see anything. Wastham Hall was where I’d grown up, when I hadn’t been away at school, so for me it was normal. I’d been about seven when I was watching a soap opera on TV and I remember asking how someone lived in such a small house. My father had taken me on a tour the following day around streets with semi-detached and terraced houses and I started to realise that I was maybe a bit different. Not everyone lived in a place with thirty-two bedrooms and twenty-five thousand acres of land.

  Fortunately, it was night time when we arrived and Imogen was fast asleep in the passenger seat. It was almost a three-hour drive to Wastham, and half past six when we left London. I knew from the texts Imogen had been sending me that she was shattered, after pulling pretty much an all-nighter the night before so she didn’t have to work at the weekend, so I wasn’t surprised that she’d fallen asleep before we left London.

  We were met by Andrew, one of the estate’s butlers, and Craig, who looked after the fleet. For a minute, I left them waiting, reluctant to wake Imogen as she looked too bloody peaceful.

  “Are we here?” She mumbled the words as she woke slowly, stretching, then opening her eyes to look straight at me. “That was quick. I thought it was about three hours.”

  “It was just under.” I smiled, amused.

  She sat up and looked shocked. “I’ve slept all the way? You should’ve woke me.”

  I laughed softly. “You needed to sleep. And you’re in luck – Lady S likes an early night on a Friday, so you can avoid her until the morning.” I opened my car door, passing the keys to Craig who was waiting patiently.

  “I need my luggage…” Imogen looked at me. “I just don’t think I’ve got the energy.”

  “You don’t need to take it. Andrew will sort getting it to your room.” I got out of the car, leaving the door for Craig and headed to her side.

  Andrew had already opened the car door for her, greeting her with a deep ‘Miss Green’ that made me chuckle and her look slightly freaked out.

  “I trust you’ve had a smooth journey, Sir?” Andrew said when I was next to Imogen. “There’s a light supper set out for you in the lounge adjoining the Parrot Room where Miss Green is staying. If you need anything more then Lady Soames has requested Adele stayed on to prepare something.”

  Imogen looked at me as if she’d just stepped out into an alternate universe, which I suppose she had.

  “Do you want anything more than soup and fruit?” I put my hand on the small of her back, wanting equally to touch her and reassure her.

  She shook her head. “That sounds just right. Parrot Room?”

  I chuckled. “There’s no parrot in it.” Then I groaned. “Let’s get to the lounge and you can ask everything you want.”

  I led her indoors, taking the east entrance which wasn’t as gaudy as the main one. We could save that shock for after she’d slept.

  The corridors were pretty much the same as they’d been when that part of the hall was built three centuries ago, the stone walls decorated with tapestries and radiators, because in winter, the place could be colder than a fridge. There was a certain section that my family lived in, another that was used for larger events, and a third that was open to the public at certain times of year, particularly Christmas when it was decorated differently each time.

  “Okay, I got you wrong.” Imogen still had hold of my hand, lagging slightly behind my pace as she stared at pretty much every feature we walked past. “You aren’t just rich, you’re obscenely wealthy and this place…” She glanced up to the ceiling where the cornices were ornate and well-preserved. “How do you afford to keep this place up?”

  I inhaled, thinking about how we indeed managed that. “Good investments, charitable status, events – we held a concert this summer that attracted over a hundred thousand people – and, well, letting the public into the building for tours. It’s a big undertaking.”

  “You must do it well.”

  “We have to. Here, go up these stairs.” I guided her to a small entrance way that led up a narrow staircase. It was what the servants would’ve used if we’d really stood on ceremony, narrow and winding, but it led us to the corridor where Lady S had decided to put Imogen.

  “Tomorrow, will you show me round or do I need to buy a ticket?” She laughed as she said it. “I feel such an imposter being here.” She stopped at the top of the stairs which ended on a wide corridor, doors off both sides.

  “Please don’t.” I almost choked the words. “I just happened to be born to the family that lived here. It doesn’t make me any better than anyone else.”

  She was quiet, letting her handbag drop to the thickly carpeted floor. “I know. I met you about a week ago for the first time in over a decade and now we’re about to tell the world we’re engaged and – this. You sure you don’t want to wait a few weeks and see if someone more suitable comes along?”

  I picked her bag up and took her hand again. “Eat, sleep, and then you can tell me why you just came out with that shit. For now, I’ll put it down to tiredness.” I walked her to the Parrot Room suite, so called because one of my mother’s ancestors had a parrot whose plumage she’d chosen to immortalise by decorating a room in its honour.

  “Wow.”

  It was the only syllable needed really. The room was maximalist to say the least, and would be both adored and hated by interior designers depending on their taste.

  “Lady S must like what she’s found out about you so far if you have these rooms. She’s particular about who stays in here.” It was true, but I figured Immy needed to hear it as well.

  We sat down on the sofa that was new to the room, replacing a monstrosity that had been far less comfortable. Imogen looked like she was trying to not be too comfy, keeping a posture that looked forced.

  “Put your feet up or lie down. You can relax. Supper will be here in a few minutes and then we’ll be on our own. There’s
a bathroom through the bedroom, which is there.” I pointed to the door, all of a sudden imagining her in bed tonight. I wondered what she slept in, and tried to bat the images away that flooded my head. Now wasn’t the time.

  “Where’s your room?”

  “Across the corridor from here. When we were kids, we were in the wing opposite our parents, which is a lot less formal. After we all moved out, Lady S issued suites to us all. They are ours and I keep things here, but they’re not really personal. I’ll give you a full tour tomorrow – no ticket needed.”

  “Will you live here full time some day?”

  I shook my head. “No. Gus will inherit the title- our dad’s anyway. But he won’t take up residence here. He’s already made that clear.”

  “So what happens to this place?”

  “It will be shared between the three of us to use as we wish. We’ve agreed to maintain its history, and I’ll stay in charge of the finances and having the final say on the running of it, although most of its managed by a team.” The door opened after a brief knock and Adele brought in a trolley laden with supper.

  There was soup, fruit and sandwiches, plus a tray with a pot of tea. She pulled it up to the table that was already set and laid everything out, Imogen watching, spellbound.

  “Let’s eat. Then you can get to bed.” I was conscious of how tired she still looked.

  She asked questions about the hall as we ate, the subjects ranging from the date Wastham Hall was built to what I got up to in here as a kid. I answered them all when I could. The one about the thread count of the sheets was beyond me.

  “You want to check out your room?” I asked when we’d both finished eating. Adele, as usual, had provided far too much food.

  She gave me a smile that was almost dirty and made me feel a hell of a lot better. “You want to tuck me in?”

  My pants felt a little tighter. “Only if I’m tucking myself in with you.”

  I swore she blushed a little.

  We went through the door to the bedroom, a space that was only a little more toned down than the lounge and still with a tropical theme. The bed was huge, and someone had already been in to turn down the sheets. Fresh water was on the table beside the bed too, but Imogen didn’t seem to have noticed that or the décor.

  No sooner were we in the room than she launched herself onto the mattress with enough force to almost bounce back off it.

  “This is just amazing. How do you not live here full time?”

  I sat on the edge of the bed and laughed. “Because I’d be bored and it’s the same county as my mother. It’s good to be at least two counties away from her most of the time.”

  Imogen laughed. “Do you actually mean that?” She sat herself up at the top of the bed, the size of it making her look tiny.

  I loved my mother, we all did, but I liked her better when I saw her infrequently. “Yes. I do.”

  “I kind of understand. My parents live mainly in New York now, so I don’t get to see them much.” Her smile was a tired one and I was pretty sure she’d just tried to stop a yawn.

  But I wasn’t ready to leave her just yet. “What will they say about you getting engaged?” I hadn’t given the thought of her family too much thought yet, mainly because she hadn’t mentioned her parents much at all.

  She laughed quietly. “As long as I’m happy, they’ll be delighted. I’ve mentioned I’ve been seeing you. They remembered you from school too, which made things a bit easier.”

  “Good.” I stood up. “I should let you sleep. Get your rest for meeting Lady S tomorrow.”

  “You know, if she turns out to be this sweet lady, I’ll be really disappointed.”

  “You won’t be disappointed. She’s unique. I think she’ll like you though. You’ve got spirit.”

  I was almost at the door when she spoke again.

  “Do you like me?” Her voice was quiet, as if she were whispering the words.

  I turned back around, seeing how she’d tucked her feet under her, her hair now down around her shoulders.

  I fought the urge to go back over there, to kiss her until she was rendered completely senseless and then show her exactly why all of this was a good idea.

  Better sense held me back.

  “Yes. Very much. And I like you more each hour we spend together. Even if you snore while you’re asleep.” She didn’t, but she wouldn’t know that.

  A cushion was launched my way. I caught it and put it down on a nearby chair.

  “Everything you need should be here. The bathroom will be loaded with decent toiletries. If you need anything in the night, just say.” I’d rather she said it to me though. I’d rather be the one to help her.

  “Thank you. I’ll take a shower and then probably be asleep before I’m dry. Goodnight.”

  I wished her goodnight and left her room, the image of her in that shower definitely not one that was going to be evaporating any time soon. In fact, it was one that stayed in my head until I fell asleep, and even then, still hung around in my dreams.

  My father had a routine that he followed strictly. He took breakfast with my mother every morning in the Rose Room, so called because it had a view over the rose garden. This was when they’d discuss any business, which was limited now to country gossip, or discussions about certain gardens that they took an active interest in. Both of my parents were keen gardeners, which was a bonus as it kept them active and made sure they weren’t spending too much time together. In August, a show was held in the grounds of the hall, one that included sheepdog trials, traditional country fair events, and best in class competitions. They would both submit separate entries, and there had been one year when my father had won in a class they’d both entered, and Lady S didn’t speak to him for a good week after.

  I think that had been the best prize he could’ve had.

  Before breakfast, he could be found in his greenhouse, a vast glass outbuilding that had been erected while Queen Victoria was on the throne and maintained by the Soames family since. My father had once told me that if he hadn’t been needed to take on the merging of the estates and assets of both families when he’d married Lady S, he’d have pursued a career in horticulture, and even now, at the age of seventy-five, he was doing his best in that field.

  Plus, unlike my mother and his three sons, plants didn’t answer back.

  “Noah.” He said my name before he’d even turned round. “We’re repotting today.” He gestured to where a line of tall seedlings were growing. “If you’ve any time, you can help.”

  “If I’ve time, I will.” I meant it. I’d always enjoyed following him round the greenhouse as a child, and it hadn’t really stopped as I’d gotten older. “How’ve you been?”

  He nodded, hands full of soil. “Fine. Hip’s giving me a bit of gip, but that’s what happens when you’re old.”

  “Replacement time?” It had been on the cards for a while, only the old fella had been putting it off.

  “Possibly. I’ll wait until October when there’s not as much to do in here. Can’t have your mother taking over and claiming any success as hers.”

  I shook my head. This competitive element between them was not going to go quietly.

  “Believe you’ve acquired a new fiancée?” He was still placing all his attention on his repotting, studying the new leaves to check the quality. “Is she an improvement on the last one?”

  I cursed myself once again for being a fool about Carla. “Imogen’s great. You’ll really like her.”

  He nodded, finally looking at me. “I know her uncle, Grant Callaghan. He’s a good chap. Just promise me you’re not rushing into marrying someone just because of your grandfather.”

  I froze, more stone than the statues of Queen Victoria and Albert in the public gardens to the back of the house. I wasn’t a fan of lying, especially if it was a direct question, and I did have an issue with lying outright to my dad.

  “Imogen’s a great girl. You’ll see when you meet her. We’ve known each ot
her a long time…”

  “You knew each other a long time ago. You haven’t kept in touch, which is probably a shame.” He stood up straight and bent his back slightly. “I knew what you were doing with Carla, son. You got swept away with an idea, and the fact you were in lust – at first. This engagement is a bit too quick for my liking.”

  “I know it’s quick. But Imogen’s like no one I’ve met before. She’s intelligent and interesting and she calls me out on my bullshit.” I was definitely not lying now. “And yes, it is quick, and that is because I want Grandfa there, but this isn’t the mistake Carla would’ve been.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not going to argue with you, Noah. You’re a grown man, and it’s not my job to tell you what to do anymore. But I’m also not your mother, and I don’t have her expectations as to how you should live your life either.”

  I turned my attention to the bird of paradise plant he was cultivating to an enormous size. “Thank you. I know you’ve also encouraged her to let us go our own ways.”

  He nodded. “Sometimes it doesn’t take much, and other times it takes half a bottle of gin, the loan of my plant bible and a bunch of my finest lilies, but other times she’s more amenable.”

  “We’re having lunch together today so she can meet Imogen.” I needed to move him off the topic of me rushing a wedding. “Is she in a good mood?”

  “Who knows?” My father rubbed his hands together, soil flicking over the counter. “But I need to get washed up else she most definitely won’t be.”

  Breakfast had been arranged to be taken in the Parrot Room lounge, where supper had been last night. Suzette, one of the estate’s staff, had told me Imogen was awake and up, which I was surprised at – I figured she’d want more of a lie-in.

  I headed up to the lounge using the back stairs. Waking up somewhere like Wastham Hall was either a dream come true or something reminiscent of being trapped in a bygone era, depending on who you were and what mood you were in.