‘You’re just angry,’ I soothed, reaching my arms round his neck. ‘Don’t make any hasty decisions.’
‘Sshh.’ He traced a fingertip along my top lip. ‘I’m not letting her have the last word. Don’t worry. It doesn’t change anything between us. And I’ll make sure you get your job back.’
He pressed a kiss to my lips, flung the door open and strode after Lady Fortescue.
I sank down onto a chair and exhaled. How could Ben say it didn’t change anything? I’d inadvertently already changed everything.
‘Holster!’ A hoarse whisper from the doorway made me lift my head to see Esme sneaking in.
‘I eavesdropped. Couldn’t help myself, soz.’ She grinned cheekily, but her eyes were full of concern.
‘Oh, Es,’ I groaned. ‘I’ve ruined the party, lost my job and inadvertently sent Ben back to London.’
She perched on the arm of my chair and slung an arm round my shoulders. ‘Hmm, that is bad. What we need is a rescue plan.’
‘I don’t know how to sort things out, Es. What do I do?’ I stared at her, blinking away my tears. ‘What would Coco advise?’
Esme rolled her eyes. ‘Isn’t it about time you got your own guru? OK, how about this? Er . . . “The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud.”’
I stared at her, nodding thoughtfully, while I absorbed Coco Chanel’s advice. There was something I could say, something I’d only just realized. It might work. It might also backfire spectacularly, but at least I’d know I’d done everything I could to save the day . . .
‘Esme, we might need to make a quick getaway after this; there’s something I need to say to the Fortescues.’
She grinned at me and punched my arm. ‘You go, girl.’
I took a deep breath, tucked my clutch bag under my arm and marched back to the Red Sitting Room.
Chapter 10
I stood in the doorway for a second, planning my next move. Lady Fortescue had stationed herself in the centre of the room and was attempting to pour herself a glass of mulled wine. She looked upset and her hand was shaking so Ben took over and handed her a glass.
Their voices were slightly raised and were attracting attention and Sheila was standing next to the small brass gong and wringing her hands anxiously. Lord Fortescue was further away, talking to the man from the tourism office and, being hard of hearing, was probably unaware of the muted row going on between his wife and son.
Ben folded his arms and stared at the carpet. ‘. . . humiliated Holly and me. It’s never going to work, Mum, not when you still treat me like a child.’
Lady Fortescue sipped at her mulled wine and looked over her shoulder, refusing to look at him. ‘Don’t you care that you’ve broken your mother’s heart?’
‘You’ve got to take some responsibility for that, Mum. And anyway, it’s for the best.’
‘How can you say that? I feel less than festive now, thanks to you . . .’
I straightened my spine and threaded my way through the crowd towards them and tapped him on the shoulder.
‘Ben, there’s something I want to say.’
He whirled round to face me and his eyes softened. Lady Fortescue, on the other hand, pursed her lips sourly.
At that very moment Sheila sounded the gong, signalling the end of the Christmas at Home party and a silence descended on the room. I glanced around me and could hardly believe what I saw; maybe the body language between the three of us indicated that something was amiss because fifty pairs of eyes were staring at us.
Now what? Everyone was listening. Do I pretend I was going to say something trivial, like ‘I’ll be off then’, and lose the moment, or do I go for it?
My body was humming with the attention of the entire room upon me.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Esme sneak into the room and stick her two thumbs up above the heads of the guests.
The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud . . .
I took a fortifying breath and looked him in the eye. ‘Ben, I think I have loved you since I caught you in the churchyard with your trousers down.’
I heard a snort of laughter and noticed Zara join Esme in the doorway, eyes wide with hands over their mouths. There were a few other titters too and David the young reporter from the local radio station took his iPhone out of his pocket and held it up.
Ben was staring at me, his eyes soft and full of an emotion that I didn’t dare name, but I liked it and it filled me with encouragement to press on. I took his hand.
‘I love you for your heart, for your generosity and for the way you light up the room as soon as you enter. I love that you give yourself completely to things you care about. I love you for your passion for all the things that matter to you like your art and Wickham Hall and, of course, your family.’
Ben reached out and pushed a stray hair off my face. ‘And you, Holly, you matter to me too.’
My heart swelled with love as he kissed my forehead and a chorus of gentle ‘ahhs’ echoed around the room, reminding me that I had an audience.
I can do this, I can say this in front of all these people. I need to do it . . .
‘Ben, from you I’ve learned not to plan everything in my life and to live in the moment.’ I swallowed. ‘Because that’s when the magic happens.’
‘Lovely sentiment,’ said Lady Fortescue crisply, ‘but the party’s over now so . . .’
Lord Fortescue appeared at his wife’s side and regarded the three of us suspiciously. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing important, Hugo. Holly is just leaving, as are our other guests.’ She patted his arm appeasingly.
People began to shuffle towards the door then but I cleared my throat and they all paused.
‘Actually, I still have something to say,’ I said, squeezing Ben’s hand for courage. ‘Ben, I’m afraid I’m going to get a bit bossy now: I think you’re making a big mistake leaving Wickham Hall.’
‘Ben?’ Lord Fortescue frowned.
‘Hold on, Dad,’ Ben’s lips twitched. ‘Go on, Holly, I love it when you’re bossy.’
I smiled back and turned to Lady Fortescue; her eyes were stretched wide in surprise.
‘Lady Fortescue, on the first day I met you, you declared that you thought that you and I would get along splendidly. And for the most part we have. Do you know why that is?’
A look of discomfort crossed her face. ‘Um?’
‘We get along because we want the same things. We both love Wickham Hall; we love every red brick, chimney pot, creaking floorboard, moss-covered balustrade, every Himalayan poppy and every tiny pane of leaded glass. And most of all, we care about what happens to the hall in the future. And,’ I paused to slip my arm around Ben’s waist, ‘we both love this man.’
I gave her a challenging look but she simply stared down at her hands and said nothing.
‘And Holly’s leaving too?’ Lord Fortescue grunted. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Mum threatened to sack her,’ Ben informed him with a wry smile. ‘I’m assuming you don’t agree with her unilateral decision?’
‘Ben, please. This isn’t about me. The thing is that you could find a new events organizer. I am easily replaceable; Lady Fortescue could advertise my job and you’ll be inundated with applicants. But Benedict isn’t.’
I tilted my face to meet his eyes. ‘You are simply not replaceable. You are special. You are the right – the only – person who can continue the amazing work that your parents have done for thirty years. Because you are born for this. You are a leader, Benedict, a good one, and you are more than capable of filling your father’s shoes. Wickham Hall just wouldn’t be the same without you.’
I finished my speech to a huge burst of applause. Several people actually cheered and Esme and Zara were wiping tears from their eyes.
Sheila took this opportunity to bang her gong again and after several increasingly louder attempts, the noise quietened down a bit.
Ben and I gazed at
each other, scarcely aware of Lord Fortescue delivering a Christmas message to the departing guests. Esme and Zara took over my job of helping Sheila hand out the Christmas gift bags and after a rally of cheerful goodbyes and Merry Christmases to each other the room finally began to empty. I noticed Zara link arms with Esme and drag her off somewhere and then it was just the Fortescues and me.
Lord Fortescue added another log to the fire and began rearranging the armchairs in front of the fire. Lady Fortescue perched on the edge of a chair and Ben and I helped him move the rest.
‘So where do we go from here?’ Lord Fortescue took a seat next to his wife and looked at his son.
Ben ushered me onto a small sofa and sat beside me.
‘Dad, I’ve tried to fit in over the last few months, but it feels like I’ve had my wings clipped. Working in the family firm for five years before you retire would suffocate me. I’m used to my independence, the freedom to work when and where I want. Wickham Hall is magnificent and I know how privileged I am, but art will always be my first choice.’
‘Benedict darling, no one denies that you’re a good artist.’ His mother sighed wearily.
‘Correction, Lady Fortescue, forgive me,’ I said firmly, ‘Ben is a very talented artist. Isn’t he, Lord Fortescue?’
Lord Fortescue nodded and his eyes looked a bit misty as he looked at his son. ‘I’m very proud of your work, son, very proud.’
‘Thanks, Dad,’ said Ben in disbelief. ‘Thanks.’
‘But I’d like to make a correction too, Holly,’ Lord Fortescue smiled, ‘you are also completely irreplaceable.’
‘Perhaps we should talk about this,’ his wife muttered. He ignored her. ‘Benedict, it would mean the world to your mother and me if you’d stay at Wickham Hall, but equally—’
‘Equally I need to follow my own path.’ Ben nodded at his father.
My heart twanged with affection for them as a look of love passed between them. If I achieved nothing else tonight, I’d always be proud of that.
‘There might be a way for you to do that and stay at Wickham Hall,’ I blurted.
A shiver of excitement ran along my spine; the plan I’d been working on for the last few weeks was still in its infancy, but this was exactly the opening I’d been looking for.
All three of them stared at me.
‘Ben, please listen,’ I said. ‘I’ve got a suggestion to make.’
‘I’m sorry, Holly,’ Lady Fortescue sighed, ‘but we have our dinner guests arriving any minute. This will have to wait.’
‘Beatrice,’ Lord Fortescue caught hold of her arm, ‘remember how we were when we were young, brimming with ideas when we first came to Wickham Hall? Remember all our plans? Let’s hear her out.’
I gave Lord Fortescue a grateful smile as his wife nodded gently in agreement. Ben edged closer to me and wound his fingers through mine.
‘The way I see it is this: you’re torn between your career as an artist and running the business of the Wickham Estate. But I think I’ve found a way that will work for everyone.’
Ben shook his head and gave me a bemused grin. ‘I’m listening.’
‘Maybe the five-year handover period before your parents retire would work better if you had your own defined role. That way you’d have independence and responsibility for your own area.’
Ben raised his eyebrows doubtfully. ‘What did you have in mind?’
I glanced at the Fortescues nervously. ‘I’ve been looking into the art gallery project that you both started years ago.’
Lady Fortescue raised a curious eyebrow and Lord Fortescue leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees.
‘At the time the project was shelved, partly because of funding, but partly because there wasn’t a high enough footfall of visitors to the hall. But now, the gift shop and the café – not to mention all the events that we run – have changed that beyond compare.’
Lord Fortescue was nodding contemplatively. Phew. That had to be a good sign.
‘Imagine, Ben.’ I took his hands and gazed into his eyes, willing him to feel as excited about it as I was. ‘Imagine starting a collection of modern art at Wickham Hall! You could showcase some of your friends’ work, you could even ship over art from your Cambodian students, hold your own exhibitions. It would be a blank canvas. Your venture, your Wickham Hall.’
‘I remember that project. An art gallery . . .’ Ben’s brow furrowed.
‘It would cost money, of course, to convert the old garages, but the space is fantastic. There’d be room for an exhibition gallery, a meeting room for visiting artists to give lectures, plus a large studio for you to work in, Ben.’
Ben’s mouth began to twitch. ‘You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?’
‘Not quite.’ I smiled back at him. ‘I haven’t had time to research the costs, but I think we could apply for money from the English Heritage fund for a grant to help with part of it.’
‘Hugo, what do you think?’ Lady Fortescue looked at her husband and I had to bite back a smile; it was a brilliant idea and she knew it.
Lord Fortescue addressed his son. ‘If you choose to develop the art gallery, Ben, we’ll find the capital to do so. Holly’s right, the reasons that the project failed last time don’t apply any more.’
Ben slid an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. ‘It certainly sounds appealing. Although—’
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ I cut in, ‘that there’d still be all the running of the estate to do. But if I got my job back, I can take care of the events by myself. And if I’m not mistaken, Lady Fortescue, I don’t think you really want to relinquish your role entirely at Wickham Hall, do you?’
She blinked at me and I realized her eyes were moist.
‘I’m so sorry.’ I was out of my seat and by her side instantly. I knelt down by her chair and touched her arm. ‘Have I got it wrong?’
She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her tears. ‘Not at all.’
I frowned. ‘Then, why—’
‘You really are a very perceptive girl, Holly,’ she said shakily. ‘I’m not ready to be put out to pasture quite yet. I know Hugo wants to slow down, live a quieter life, but I thought I’d be able to carry on as a figurehead for ever.’
I stared at her. ‘Well, that’s fantastic! There’s no reason why you can’t, is there?’
Lady Fortescue recovered herself and took a deep breath. ‘I thought I would be usurped if Ben fell in love with someone strong and capable. And I’d so miss hosting events like this . . . Well, perhaps not this particular one.’
We shared a smile at that; a family dispute at the mulled wine in full view of the guests probably wouldn’t be forgotten in a hurry.
‘Holly, I owe you an apology.’ She squeezed my hand. ‘With you at Ben’s side, I thought I’d be surplus to requirements. I couldn’t bear it.’
She turned to Ben. ‘And I’m sorry, darling, I’ve steered you towards some lovely girls but I chose them because they were unambitious, so that selfishly I could retain a role here.’
‘Goodness me, Lady Fortescue,’ I said, taken aback, ‘I’m flattered but I think you’re overestimating my abilities. Not only that, you’re greatly underestimating how important you are to the running of Wickham Hall. I’ve absolutely no desire to encroach there, I promise you. In fact, I was going to suggest you hosted a new event next year: a charity fashion show?’
Her eyes lit up and she nodded. ‘Love it. Absolutely love it!’
Ben got to his feet and offered me his hand to help me up. ‘I think the art gallery idea is brilliant and I think you’re brilliant. I need to find out more about the project, but in principle, yes, I’m up for it, if you are, Mum and Dad?’
‘Bravo!’ cried His Lordship, banging the arm of his chair.
‘Champagne I think, Hugo,’ said Lady Fortescue, clapping her hands together.
‘Wait!’ Ben held up his hands. ‘I’ll stay on one condition: Holly stays too.’
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Lord Fortescue cocked an eyebrow at his wife.
‘Of course she can have her job back. Holly, I apologize, I overreacted and I didn’t mean what I said. Hugo’s right, you are irreplaceable,’ said Lady Fortescue going pink.
‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you to say,’ I exclaimed. I pressed a hand to my poor thudding heart, but Ben still wasn’t satisfied.
‘But not just as a member staff. Holly is far more precious to me than that.’
Precious. I was precious to Ben. My heart clenched and I wished more than anything that this awkward conversation was over and I could show him how much he meant to me too.
‘Of course, of course,’ said Lady Fortescue, ‘I understand. Holly, I have been less than gracious, but will you join us for dinner?’
I squeezed Ben’s hand. ‘I’d absolutely love to.’
‘Wonderful.’ She clapped her hands and went into hostess-mode. ‘I’ll put you next to—’
‘You’ll put her next to me,’ Ben insisted.
‘And me,’ chimed Lord Fortescue.
Zara appeared in the doorway, still with a clam-like Esme Wilde at her side. ‘Come on, everyone, all the guests are here. They’ve been served drinks in the Great Hall.’
A shiver ran up my spine and I fought the urge to pinch myself. I, Holly Swift, was joining the Fortescues for dinner in the Great Hall.
‘Excellent,’ boomed Lord Fortescue. ‘I think we could all do with a drink.’
‘OK?’ Ben placed a steadying hand at my waist.
I nodded.
‘Thank you,’ I replied, feeling dazed and overcome and ridiculously close to tears. ‘Thank you for saying I’m precious.’
And then a tiny joyful tear did escape and I reached inside my new clutch bag for a tissue.
Instantly Zara seemed to levitate off the ground with a screech. ‘Bianca!’
She fell on my open bag and gasped as she saw the label. ‘It is! It’s a Bianca!’
Esme’s and Lady Fortescue’s heads popped up like meerkats.
‘Mum, look! It’s the Bianca clutch!’
‘Good grief, Holly. How did you get hold of one of those?’ Lady Fortescue’s jaw gaped.
Wickham Hall: Part Four - White Christmas Page 9