by Sara Rosett
“Um…no, not french braid. I can do a regular braid though.”
“That’s okay,” Grace said, but I had a feeling that it wasn’t okay at all.
We tossed the last of the crumbs to the ducks, then packed up the blanket and made our way back through Nether Woodsmoor to the steep street that branched off one of the main roads. We traipsed up the street, and I was glad it was Alex pulling Grace’s large suitcase up the incline, not me. When we reached Cottage Lane, I looked over my shoulder at Grace, who was lagging several paces behind us, trailing her hand along the stacked stone wall that formed the front of each cottage garden. The heady fragrances of flowers from the front gardens wafted over us as we walked. I exchanged a glance with Alex. He shrugged and mouthed the word sorry.
“It’s fine,” I said softly as we reached the gate that opened into the garden in front of my cottage. “Well, this is me.” I stepped through and noticed a bit of the tension in Grace’s shoulders ease. “I’ll give you time to settle in. Why don’t you two go on to the ruins this afternoon without me,” I said to Alex.
“You don’t have to—”
“No, Grace needs to unpack, and Elise called a little while ago. I should call her back.” After a rocky start, my boss and I had reached an uneasy truce. I didn’t want a resumption of the hostilities. I’d already sent her call to voicemail. The sooner I called her back, the better. “And I still have to track down Beatrice. I need to take care of those things,” I said quickly because I could see that Alex was about to protest again. I squeezed his hand. “Really, it’s okay. I think you two should go on.”
Grace moved around Alex, her steps quickening. “Bye, Kate.”
“If you’re sure…” Alex said.
“Yes. Positive.”
“Okay, but you’re not skipping out of pizza tonight.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Alex planted a quick kiss on my mouth. “See you soon,” he said quietly.
Grace reached the end of the lane. She gave me a long solemn look as she turned into the gate at Alex’s cottage.
I closed the door and leaned on it, blowing out a long breath. “Well, that didn’t go as planned.” I looked around my little cottage with its hardwood floors and the strange modern furniture left by a prior tenant that didn’t go with the cozy atmosphere of wooden beams and bookcases on either side of the fireplace. During the rather cool and rainy spring, I’d often sat on the uncomfortable angular couch beside the fireplace, reading and preparing my location scouting reports, but now in the heat of summer, the room was stifling.
I opened the window that looked out over the front garden, heaving up the casement with its wavy glass, then I moved down the little hallway that ran from the front door to the kitchen at the back of the cottage. In the kitchen I propped open the back door.
I returned to the front room and stood still, testing the air. Yes, the air shifted slightly, feathering along my skin. I made a mental note to buy a fan. The last few days had been incredibly hot—boiling, as my friend Louise described it—compared to the mild summer weather we’d been having. While the day felt pleasant when you were outside, indoors was a different story. The bright sun beat down on the cottage, and with its poor circulation, the temperature only went up as the day went on. Coming from Southern California, where air conditioning was practically a basic human right, the fact that the cottage didn’t have at least a window cooler was a shock.
I dialed Elise’s number as I walked out to the back garden. Elise answered on the first ring. “Kate. I called you over thirty minutes ago.”
I gritted my teeth. “Hello, Elise,” I said deliberately. Most of the Brits I met were extremely polite, but Elise didn’t believe in chit-chat—or greetings. “This is the first opportunity I’ve had to call you back. We’re not working this weekend, you know.”
“And look at this weather. Gorgeous. So annoying that we’re not in a position to get any of it on film. I can’t believe I let Paul talk me into a break in filming. Next time, we’re going straight through.”
I dropped into one of two plastic chairs positioned in the shade of an oak tree.
“But wasn’t there a conflict with the talent?” It wouldn’t do us any good to film if we didn’t have our actors in place to portray the scenes we needed to film.
“Actors can be replaced,” Elise said airily. “We could film from a distance and get the closeups later. Kate, you’re in Nether Woodsmoor?” she said abruptly.
“Yes,” I said slowly with a sense of unease. Elise’s conversational shifts often left me disoriented, but I knew I didn’t want Elise tracking my movements. She wasn’t the sort of person you wanted to know your whereabouts.
“Good. Marion is on bedrest. I need you to go to Parkview Hall.”
“I can run by there today,” I said, feeling relieved. A short errand was easy. “What do you need? And is Marion okay?” Marion was the production’s researcher. She was five months pregnant with her first child.
“She’s fine, except she has to stay off her feet so the weekend house party is out of the question. That’s why I need you to go. Notes, background, the whole bit. We don’t need photos. We’re familiar enough with the Hall.”
Elise had a tendency to move at the speed of light. “Weekend house party?” I asked to slow her down.
“Regency-themed. Tea on the lawn. Dressing for dinner. Shooting and riding, too, I suppose, if you go in for that sort of thing. All without hoards of tourists breathing down your neck.”
“Okay, yes, Beatrice mentioned it.” I’d seen the brochure for it during one of our shoots at Parkview Hall.
“With Marion out of commission, I need someone there to assess it for inclusion in the production.” Elise spaced her words out as if she was speaking to a simpleton.
“And you want me to do that? I’m not a researcher. I don’t know what Marion does.”
“It’s similar to location scouting.” Impatience tinged Elise’s words. “Take notes on the events. Write up a summary report with potential uses of the event. Can we use it for B-roll? Or would there be enough there for a Jane in the Modern World feature?”
The documentary series was an in-depth look at Austen’s life. So far, episodes had featured reenactments of scenes from some of Austen’s novels as well as reenactments of Austen’s life. Short features were interspersed with commentary from experts. The features had explored Jane Austen and pop culture as well as life in Regency times.
“Beatrice informs me that they will hold at least two more house party weekends this summer. I need to know right away so we can book one of the remaining two, if it will be a feasible use of our time. Lady Stone has comped one guest for the weekend, so we can’t let it go to waste. You’re the closest. You can be there tonight.”
I clamped my lips together to keep from uttering the protests that were welling up. Of course, a house party at Parkview Hall would normally be at the top of my list of things I’d love to do. In fact, I’d seen the brochure and thought wistfully that I would like to go, but the hefty price tag put it far—extremely far—out of my budget. Exclusive country home weekends didn’t come cheap, and there was no way I could afford one on my location scout salary. And I bet Parkview Hall with its stone exterior, huge corridors, and vaulted ceilings would be delightfully cool, much cooler than my stuffy bedroom under the cottage eaves. I’d spent a restless night last night tossing and turning and wishing I’d saved enough money to buy a window air conditioning unit.
But despite loving the idea of attending a real English country house party, the fact remained that I had plans with Alex this weekend. Just because I lived close to Parkview Hall didn’t mean that Elise could draft me with only a few hours notice to step into a job that I didn’t know. But that was Elise in a nutshell. I suspected that she thought of everyone who worked for her as interchangeable cogs and that each of us only existed to further her goals.
My extended silence must have clued her in that I wasn’t
jumping up and down at the opportunity. “Kate, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“True, but I already have plans for this weekend.”
After a few moments of silence on her end of the line, she cleared her throat. “Really. I hadn’t thought it would be a problem. You can’t rearrange things? It is Parkview Hall, and I know how interested you are in all things Regency. Surely you don’t want to pass up a chance to live like a Regency miss for a weekend?”
“Well…it does sound intriguing.”
“You don’t have to stay at Parkview continuously,” Elise said, sensing a weak point. “You’d be free to come and go as you like. All I need is an overview. Once you have the gist what is going on, you could enjoy the party or leave. As long as you get the high points for me, that is.” Sounding as if it physically pained her, she added, “And it would be overtime, of course.”
“I might be able to shift a few things around,” I said, thinking that my first interactions with Grace hadn’t been that promising. It might be better to back off and give her and Alex most of the weekend together. I could drop in a couple of times to see them…and possibly get that window air conditioning unit, too.
“Excellent,” Elise said briskly.
“Wait,” I said quickly, a thought striking me. “What is my position?”
“Position?”
“At the house party? I’m not a chambermaid or poor relation or something like that?” I remembered from the brochure that guests would have definite roles over the weekend. We were a budget production, and I wouldn’t put it beyond Elise to send someone to the house party in the lowest social position possible.
“No, of course not. You couldn’t ask someone to pay for the weekend then expect them to polish the furniture and lay the fires,” Elise said, but I heard a rustling of papers. “Yes, here it is. Guest level: gentry. Historically appropriate clothing provided. All meals and entertainment included.”
I felt a flutter of excitement. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I thought Alex would understand. It involved one of Elise’s commands, which were frequent. He knew how imperious she could be, and both our jobs depended on staying in her good graces. With the flexibility to come and go as I liked, it should be a fun weekend. “I think I could do that.”
“Excellent. Arrival before five.”
Chapter 2
AFTER I ENDED THE CALL with Elise, I called Parkview Hall and reached Beatrice. “Kate, Thank you for ringing back. You’re coming in Marion’s place, I understand.”
“Yes, I just got off the phone with Elise.”
“Excellent. This will work out better than I’d planned. I’d hoped to slip you onto the guest list surreptitiously, but this will be so much better. You’ll be here soon?”
“Yes, as soon as I speak to Alex. I have to juggle some plans for the weekend.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Would Alex like to attend as well?”
While the idea of Alex turned out in a Regency coat and breeches appealed to me, I doubted that it was his idea of a good time. Since he avoided wearing even a sport coat, he’d probably run as fast as he could from starched cravats. “No, his sister is in town. I think they need some time on their own. This will work out fine.”
“They’re welcome to drop in for tea. Just let Waverly know.”
“Waverly?”
“Our butler.”
“I didn’t realize you had a butler.” I knew Beatrice employed a housekeeper and a skeleton staff to cook and clean for her and Sir Harold as well as several people who helped her run the stately home when it was open to the public. The only other staff I’d seen when I visited Parkview Hall were tour guides shepherding tourists.
“Only for events like the house party or weddings and such. He comes with the caterer, you know,” Beatrice said with a laugh. “Frightfully correct and dull. My goal this weekend is to make him crack a smile. Now. Where were we? When you arrive, tell Waverly who you are, and he’ll bring you to me directly.” Her voice sobered. “I have certain…issues… I’d like to discuss with you in private.”
I ended the call, more worried than ever. Beatrice had again sounded apprehensive, even a bit fearful. In short, not like herself at all.
“It’s just going to take a little time,” Alex said quietly as he swept up playing pieces from the board game Cluedo, which I recognized as the British version of Clue, a game I’d loved as a kid—another of those similar, yet different things between the U.S. and the U.K.
“I know,” I replied in the same soft undertone. “That’s why I agreed to go to Parkview Hall. It will give you and Grace time together. She needs that. I think it was a little too much, too fast for her this afternoon.”
There was no need for us to speak so quietly. We stood in Alex’s kitchen near a fan that swiveled back and forth, but only stirred up the warm air inside his cottage. The sound of pop music pulsed down the hall from behind Grace’s closed bedroom door, doing an effective job of drowning out our words.
“She used to love this game.” Alex dropped the playing pieces into the slot in the box. “Last time she was home, we played it so many times I was sick of Professor Plum and Colonel Mustard. She barely glanced at it when she came in today. She said she wanted to polish her nails. She’s not even excited about going to the ruins later today. She’s always liked climbing over the walls.”
“It all sounds completely normal to me. She’s growing up. She probably thinks board games are for kids and that she’s too old to climb walls now. She’s almost a teenager. “
Alex groaned. “Let’s not even talk about that.” He ran his hand along the back of his neck then said, “A minute ago, you said something about things going too fast. What did you mean?”
I put the playing board in the box and took a step toward him, thinking of the huge task he’d taken on—essentially parenting a pre-teen. Most guys in their twenties wouldn’t even consider doing it, but Alex had. It was odd in a way. I already thought Alex was attractive, but seeing the way he interacted with Grace and how much he cared for her, just made my heart warm to him even more. Strange that when you get to know someone their inner qualities can become even more attractive than their exterior looks. “You and me…the togetherness of it.”
Alex slid the box’s lid into place. “The togetherness?”
“You know, holding hands, kissing. Those things.”
Alex moved the game to the back of the kitchen counter, then wrapped his arms around me. With his face inches from mine, he said, “Well, she’s just going to have to get used to those things. I’m not giving up hand-holding and kissing.” He proceeded to demonstrate just how important kissing was.
“Completely agree. Vital thing—kissing,” I said a little later. “Very important.” I rested my forehead against his. “But you’re all Grace has. With your dad in…where is he again? Which embassy?”
“Chile.”
“With him in Chile, and your mom…” I trailed off because Alex never said much about his mom.
“In the sunshine somewhere, I’m sure. She left Monte Carlo—I know that—but she hasn’t called me since then.”
“So, you’re it, big brother. Grace needs you. No wonder she is a little…ambivalent toward me. She doesn’t want me to take you away as well.”
“Hmm…depends on where you want to go, of course. Anywhere with air conditioning sounds good about now.”
“From the way the corner of your mouth turned up, I know you’re joking, but,” I looked over my shoulder to check that the hallway was empty, “Grace might worry. I have no intention of taking you away from her, but she doesn’t know that. It will only come with time.”
“But things will change. They have to.”
“Do they?” I asked. This was as far as we’d drifted into talking about our future. I had a tendency to over-think every aspect of a relationship, but I’d managed to refrain from that bad habit so far with Alex. Mostly. I’d been living in the moment, trying not to look too fa
r down the road—that was when I tended to have my freak-out moments, either clinging so tightly to someone that they freaked out, or dropping them when I realized there was a slim chance that the relationship might progress.
I hadn’t had the best role models for a loving relationship so with only television and movies as my guide, I was feeling my way in the dark. Usually I “made a hash of it,” as Louise would phrase it, but with Alex it had been different. He was easy to be with, and we’d been so busy working that there hadn’t been a spare moment to contemplate that big issue: where was this relationship going?
Grace’s door opened. Alex and I stepped apart like guilty lovers surprised by a chaperone in a Regency novel.
“Alex—” Grace stepped into the hall. “Oh. Hi, Kate. I didn’t know you were here.”
Her lackluster tone reassured me I’d made the right decision. I needed to bow out of their immediate area for a bit. “I was just leaving.” I gave Alex a quick, chaste kiss then waved to Grace. “Have fun at the ruins.” I looked at her bored face and added, “If you go, that is.”
I suppose most house party guests didn’t arrive on foot at Parkview Hall. The blond-haired young man inside the ticket kiosk started guiltily when I leaned in the little window and said hello.
He quickly pocketed his phone and grabbed a clipboard. “You’re here for the house party?”
“Yes, Kate Sharp.”
A sign posted near the kiosk listed the days and times the estate was open for public tours. A wooden placard had been placed on two hooks at the top of the sign and proclaimed, “Closed for a private event.”
He checked my name off his list, then leaned forward to peer out the window. Noting my hastily packed suitcase and the absence of a car, he said, “Would you like for me to call for a ride for you? I’d run you up to the Hall, but I’m not supposed to leave.”