Gianni began to jump up and down when he saw the Bentley waiting to escort them into London. Vanity gave him a disapproving look as they climbed inside. “Emotions are always in check, Gianni. This is a very critical week and we want to make a good impression. Listen closely to everything that is being said and pick up on the subtle cues,” she told him as the driver closed the door.
“The dude said it was the royal air field. Is your husband royalty? My dad said 007 had a dukedom or a douche or something; what does that mean Willie?”
“It is called a duchy. He is a Duke and it means that the Queen is Nigel’s Great Aunt,” she said hoping that his teen brain would calculate the rest. It must have pacified him because he was quiet as they drove through the back fields behind Buckingham Palace, through the gates and into London.
Once they arrived at the townhouse, Vanity’s stomach was full of butterflies worrying that her husband might not have missed her as much as she missed him. She would play it cool and she even dressed conservatively with brown slacks, a soft peach two-piece cardigan set, and graduated pearls. Her hair was in a chignon and her bag was a modest size. Gianni helped with her cooler, and she carried her business satchel with the extra tablet.
Since they were expected, there was no need to ring the doorbell as they were greeted at the door by a butler who welcomed them both. As they entered the parlor, she was impressed with the space of the inside, and the Strathmore coat of arms seemed to adorn every fixture in the home, including the floor tiles.
“Milady, I am Giles, your Lordship’s personal butler.” Gianni’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “If you would follow me,” he said with regal bearing, his back straight as a rod, he led them to an office where Nigel sat behind a desk in a meeting with two gentlemen, appearing totally bored and distracted until Giles announced her arrival. Nigel looked up at her and the smile on his face totally made her melt.
“Gentlemen, I would like to present to you Lady Wilhelmina,” Nigel proclaimed.
Both men turned and she heard an audible gasp from the more handsome of the two. Nigel walked around the desk and Vanity noticed he was impeccably dressed in deep green trousers with matching deep green loafers, a grey waist coat, and a speckled tie that brought it all together. He wore a fitted jacket to match the pants and he looked like a glass of cool lemonade on a hot Arizona day. Her body started feeling tingly.
The gentlemen both bowed over her hand as she was introduced to Sir Roddy Piker and Sir Thomas Mulroy, two of Nigel’s best friends from Oxford. Sir Roddy was the first to ask, “Nigel, old chap, who is the delightful creature?”
Nigel took her into his arms, “Lady Wilhelmina is my wife.” His friends were in shock as he briefly kissed Vanity, only to notice Gianni standing there.
“Well, hello there, nephew,” he said as he shook the boy’s hand and welcomed him to London. “Giles, will take your things to your room.”
Gianni appeared to be a bit reluctant and seemed uncertain of what he should do next. His aunt’s instructions were to never leave her alone. He was certain if leaving her with Nigel and two strange men counted as alone?
Nigel helped break the ice. “Gianni, last week in New York, your father cooked the most amazing pork chops.”
Sir Roddy and Sir Thomas both asked at the same time, “You were in New York?”
Nigel turned back to them both, “Yes, I flew first to...” he paused and looked at his wife.
“Arizona,” she added.
“Ah, yes,” Nigel said. “And then on to Vegas and back to New York.” His friends stood gape-jawed.
“Now Gianni, do you know how to make those chops your Dad cooks?”
Gianni had relaxed a bit and answered slowly, “I can, but Lady Wilhelmina makes lamb chops that put those to shame.”
Vanity was pleased that he had taken the cues. He slowed down as he used the proper name in front of Nigel’s friends and referred to her as Lady Wilhelmina, versus Willie.
Sir Thomas piped in, “You can cook, Lady Wilhelmina, and are a delight to the eye as well?”
It was Sir Roddy who stole the show. He said, with a great amount of pride, “I do say, you are quite lovely M’Lady, however, you cannot hold a torch to my beauty Vanity Devons.”
Gianni stared with a what the what what? look on his face that nearly made Nigel burst out laughing, but he was curious how his wife was going to handle this one.
“Are you dating Vanity Devons?” she asked with a straight face.
The smug look on Sir Roddy’s face was priceless, “No, not yet, but soon. The American will be my wife before you know it.”
Vanity was still puzzled, especially considering she had no recollection of ever meeting the man, “Ah, so she has no idea of your undying love for her? You have spent time with this Devons?”
He lowered his head, inhaling softly as if to recount a wonderful memory. “I met her briefly in Milan last year. I even sent her flowers hued of passion pink to match the bloom on her cheeks. I look forward to seeing her again at her show next week.”
There were ten bouquets sent backstage but only one of pink roses, Vanity recalled. Nigel and Gianni watched her face as she moved closer to Sir Roddy to make her next words intimate, but not inappropriate. “Next time, bring daisies,” she whispered, and the Duke watched his friend’s head pop up to stare his wife in the face. “Daisies are my favorite. I do believe I sent you a thank you for the pink roses. They were lovely.”
Sir Roddy started to sputter as Giles moved behind him and Sir Thomas to usher them out the door. Once they left, Gianni, Nigel, and Vanity burst into laughter. Nigel turned to Gianni, “So, Gianni, have you ever driven a Ferrari?”
Gianni thought that if cooking some pork chops was all it took to drive a beautiful car like that, then it was a deal. He was now glad he made the choice to come along with his Aunt.
{21] Introducing M’lady...
The small staff was lined up in the dining room to meet the new lady of the house. Giles, Nigel’s butler, often traveled with him and rarely left his side except for the trip to the US. In Vanity’s opinion, Giles was rather young to be a butler, appearing to be in his early forties. When asked, he stated with pride, “My family has served the Strathmore’s all our lives, M ’Lady, and it is my honor to continue the tradition.”
The housekeeper was also Nigel’s personal caregiver and took care of the Cotswold estate, his quarters in Strathmore Keep, and the townhouse. There was a separate staff for the Villa in Milan. Where ever his Lordship resided, she was there. Her name was Maddie.
The cook, named Biddie, had a warm face and very bad teeth, but was delighted to meet them both. She was even more surprised when Vanity asked, “Ms. Biddie, I am on a restricted diet, would it be okay if I helped you prepare my meals?” Biddie’s eyebrows shot up, and she looked to Nigel for guidance, but Vanity stepped into her line of sight between her husband and the servant, “If it is too much trouble, I can prepare my own.”
“No M‘Lady, we will have no such thing. You show Biddie how to make ye vittles, and I will take care of the cooking for ye,” the cook sputtered over her words. It was uncertain if she had a Cockney accent, with a Gaelic undertone, or if the bad teeth just made her tongue tied.
Last was a young woman who seemed very timid but had kind eyes. Nigel introduced her as Babette and said, “She will take care of your personal needs, your laundry, hair care, make-up, and anything else you should require.” Vanity was touched that he had hired someone for her personally, but the young lady looked terrified.
Vanity extended her hand, “Pleasure to have you at my side.” She pulled the pins from her hair and let the mass fall. “I was so afraid that his Lordship would have to help me manage this nightmare I call hair.” Babette swore in French and placed her hands over her mouth at her unprofessional response and Vanity lapsed into her caretaker’s language and explained her hair care routine.
Nigel’s eyes were wide, “You speak French?” She only smiled and
asked Babette to show her to their quarters.
The room had been completely redecorated since Nigel had returned. He employed decorators and personal shoppers to redo all of the master suites in less than a week. He wanted it to be perfect for her.
The master suite had been redone to be similar to her bedroom in New York and it even had the photo of the two of them above the bed. Good ole’ Jessica. The coverlets, Babette said, had been changed to match her own and instinct had her check the bed, and true to form, the mattress was the same, soft on her side, and firm on his. She checked her closet space and there were several new items that still had tags on them that Nigel had purchased for her use while in Europe. Nice. Vanity’s watched chimed.
Giles, tapped on the open-door frame and walked into the master suite. Vanity turned to find Nigel standing there watching her. “Dinner, is served,” Giles announced.
Vanity wanted to know how capable Babette was and asked her to assist with putting her hair back up. Deft hands moved swiftly and created a French bun that was comfortable, fashionable, and easy to wear. “Oh, wow!” She hugged the girl before she knew it, saying, “Thank you, I love it.” Babette grinned from ear to ear.
“Babette, can you excuse us?” Nigel asked, wanting to be alone with his wife.
The moment the door closed, Nigel moved to her, “This has been the longest week of my life. I thought you would never get here.”
He planted small kisses on her face as she wrapped her arms around his waist and waited to receive the kiss she had been craving all week. Vanity wanted to tell him she felt the same way, but she had little time as he smothered her with affection.
BIDDIE SERVED A TRADITIONAL British dinner with entirely too much food, and Vanity pushed it around her plate. Initially she had thought to not offend the cook and at least try the food before she started bringing in her own, but it was difficult to consume the rich sauces and fried meats. But overall, dinner went well as Gianni discussed a few things he wanted to see while he was in Europe. As reluctant as Vanity was, she had to ask about his wardrobe, and as suspected, he only brought casual clothing. Her twin unfortunately, dressed like an out of work cowboy unless there was a cause for something special. He, also, unfortunately, entrusted Gianni with his fashion sense. Good thing she knew his sizes and sent a text to a friend to have suitable clothing sent over as soon as possible. They would be leaving for Strathmore Keep in the morning and she knew he needed to have a certain look for meeting the Duke and Duchess. She wasn’t sure if the items he had brought would be proper enough.
Nigel could not resist the opportunity to poke fun at his wife, “Don’t worry Gianni, she doesn’t allow me to dress myself either.”
{22] Scaling the castle walls...
In the daylight, Strathmore Keep was a great deal larger, more foreboding and it looked very cold. When Vanity had visited the castle earlier in the summer with her brother, Nigel had started a fire because he said it often got chilly inside the main hall. It was now a damp November, and the building was probably going to give her bronchitis.
The ride to the family estate and land was very pleasant as Nigel discussed some benefits of having such a great deal of property with Gianni. He also scowled as he spoke of the cost and upkeep of such a building.
“We try to maintain the historical significance of the structure, but the costs must also be factored in,” Nigel said.
Gianni first looked out the window as they approached the massive stone tower, but then turned quickly to face Nigel, telling him, “You can compensate for the cost of heating and cooling by adding some well-placed solar panels. Adding small, inconspicuous wind turbines can increase the air flow throughout the building while recirculating fresh air, which greatly reduces staleness. It would also be beneficial to replace the standard water systems with low-flow shower heads and commodes which use solar generators,” Gianni said to him with a confidence that Vanity had never seen before in her nephew.
“I know money may not be of any object, but conserving resources are always smart planning for the future,” Gianni said to Nigel as he went back to gazing out of the window. “Ooh, is that a moat?”
Nigel stared at the kid in disbelief, amazed that one so young could be so attuned. Strathmore Keep was everything you would expect in a castle. Gianni could barely contain himself when Nigel assigned Giles’ nephew to show him the estate and grounds.
“Careful around the south inner curtain you two. That wall is being reinforced,” Nigel called after the young man that he was squiring. “Conall, make sure you take him into the garages.” The young man nodded and Vanity was impressed at how well comported he was for someone so young.
“Is he a butler in training?” She asked her husband.
“Yes, he will be the butler for Collingswood, the Duke of Somerset,” he said to Vanity with love in his eyes.
She arched one perfect eyebrow, “Who is Collingswood?”
Nigel pulled her into his arms, before kissing her, whispering, “Our son.”
VANITY WAS ONLY SHOWN a portion of the castle since it had taken the better part of the morning to get there. Nigel’s apartments were in the east wing of the Keep whereas his brother was in the west, his sister in the south, and his parents in the northeast corner. It amazed her that each compartment was self-contained with its own staff. Her watch chimed and before she even had an opportunity to say anything, a bell jingled on the door.
Nigel didn’t bother to check the door, but guided her into a small eat-in area outside of the sitting rooms. A cute little table had been set with her midday meal, her bottles of water, and tea service for Nigel. Nice.
“Would you like to rest before meeting my parents this evening?” Nigel asked her as they concluded the meal.
“If at all possible, I need to get some work done. Is there Wifi and a place where I can set up? I will also need an extra chair for Gianni when he gets back if that is possible, Your Grace,” she said it tongue-in-cheek as she watched his reaction.
“Of course, Darling, follow me,” he guided her past the bedroom which completely took her breath away. The guest room she had shared before with her brother had been dark, with heavy wainscoting in oaks and the room boasted large antique furniture, heavy drapes, and brocade-covered walls that made the room feel more like a shrine to Henry the VIIIth than a home. However, Nigel’s personal quarters had been softened with lavenders and soft teals with a pop of red in the middle of the bed. The curtains were heavy velvet in the Chinese red she loved to wear. Above the bed was a different photo of Nigel and her, the one of him dressed like an American tourist laughing as they boarded the roller coaster. The door which she thought led to closet actually opened into a replica of her New York office. It was complete with two mannequins and everything she had on her desk.
“I am speechless.” Vanity said as her eyes misted and she felt her body begin to hum with excitement.
“Nigel, thank you, I,” she tried to say as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply.
“I will send Gianni your way,” he said pulling away. “I have some things to prep before this evening, so if you will excuse me.”
Wow, she mused. Nigel promised he would sweep her off her feet in a grand fashion. This is beyond amazing.
Vanity worked clear into the early portion of the afternoon, sending Gianni back out to hang with Conall, who brought a slew of emotions in Vanity’s head and heart. That sixteen-year-old kid is being trained to the butler for their son. Our son. My son. What if the first child is not a boy? “No frickin’ pressure there Nigel!”
It was then something very clear seeped into her heart. Vanity Devons wanted to be a mother.
BABETTE ARRIVED AN hour before dinner. “Madam, it is time for your bath,” she said to Vanity, who watched the young woman with some interest. I hope she is not planning to give me one. Instead, she handed her clothing to Babette to be pressed while she quickly showered and donned under garments. Her hair was combed in a combination
of loose curls that hung down her back and a tight bun atop her head. She opted for an-line navy velvet skirt with a mint green cardigan, white blouse, and navy pumps. Nigel looked for the trademark splash of red that Vanity Devons was known for, but instead, she went very conservative.
It wasn’t what Nigel was expecting her to wear, but he approved.
“Darling, there is something I need to show you,” he told her as he took her hand and guided her down a long hallway, down two corridors, and towards a deep set of stairs in the rear of the building’s structure.
“If you want to make out in the dungeon, you can just stop right here, Your Grace,” she rooted herself to the spot where she was standing and refused to move.
“Come Darling, you will like this. I promise,” he told her as he slipped his hand into hers. Reluctantly, she followed along as Nigel walked up to a huge door with a hand print and retinal scanner. Maybe he is 007.
Vanity was trying not to frown, but for the third time in two weeks, her face was showing a great deal of expression, “What in the silk stockings is in there? The crown jewels?”
“Silk Stockings?”
She exhaled softly, “No self-respecting woman uses profanity to express her emotions. I choose other words to convey my sentiments.”
“Uhmm...right then,” he told her, knowing that what she was about to see would probably make her curse like a British sailor on holiday in Japan. He opened the large vaulted door and led her inside. The lights came up to reveal cases and cases of jewels. Some were in glass-doored containers that looked like safety deposit boxes, others were prominently displayed in trophy style cases. In the center aisles were softly illuminated crowns. “Each of these belonged to a duke or a duchess of Strathmore, some going back as far as the Tudors,” he told her.
Vanity stood still, trying to take it all in. There were jewels in the vault to end world hunger forever.
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