The Glass House

by Bella Bryce

  He helped Elisabeth remove her cape before passing it and his topcoat to Ana, which she hung neatly in the white, French Victorian armoire nearby. She led them down a corridor, bypassing a set of white stairs with a curling bannister, to a glass door framed in wood with ruched drapes for client privacy.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Fowler," Ana said, when she stepped aside and held the door opened for Bennett and Elisabeth to enter.

  "Darlings," Evelyn said, as she abandoned both her husband and the glass display in front of them to greet her son and future daughter-in-law. Jon followed his wife, walking as he always did, with his hands behind his back at a patient stroll.

  "Good morning, Mother," Bennett said, giving her the same small smile he gave most people out of politeness and kissed her cheek when she arrived at his side.

  Evelyn Fowler might have been middle-aged, but she very often made most twenty-year-old women gulp. She was beautiful, confident and wore knee-length form-fitting dresses with high necklines and had thin, muscular arms, which made most men either gulp or stare. She was terribly attractive in her dominating nature, except to her son, Bennett, who despised female authority.

  "Elisabeth, darling," Evelyn said, moving to greet the girl.

  She smiled and let go of Bennett's hand in order to properly embrace her future mother-in-law.

  "You look lovely," Evelyn added, straightening Elisabeth's necklace as it fell over the top of her dress. It was the necklace Bennett had given her before proposing, and it matched her ring precisely. They kissed one other once on each cheek.

  "Thank you," Elisabeth replied, feeling somewhat childish amongst Bennett and his father in three-piece suits, and Evelyn and Anabelle in their chic Burberry and Gucci dresses, heels and understated jewellery. Well, Ana's was understated. Evelyn was sophisticated, but her jewellery unashamedly screamed wealth.

  "Good morning, Elisabeth," Jonathan Fowler said, appearing beside his wife.

  "Good morning." She smiled, leaning over to greet him with two kisses. Jonathan Fowler adored his future daughter-in-law, although his manner was a great deal more reserved than even Bennett's. Jonathan didn't often make his thoughts or feelings known, although the unmistakable adoring smile and genuine hugs on their greeting and departure was enough to assure Elisabeth she was accepted by him.

  "Darling, why don't you give Bennett the cheque? I want the air clear before we start anything. Is that all right, Anabelle?" Evelyn asked.

  "Yes, of course. Shall I have tea brought in?"

  "That would be lovely," Bennett and Evelyn responded, simultaneously. He cleared his throat. They hadn't even started, and Evelyn was already trying to take over.

  "I won't be a moment." Normally, Anabelle would have offered a menu of elegant refreshments, but she knew exactly how they all took their tea and what they would nibble. Experience had taught her, and career progression had been enough to remind her.

  Anabelle closed the door to the parlour, as the room was affectionately named at the exclusive events coordinating headquarters. The converted mansion had been the ideal place to host clientele of particularly discerning natures; hence the house had been renovated to reflect the historical elegance of the Victorian period with the welcoming nature of a stately urban home.

  It was laid out so as to make clients feel as though they were planning their events in their own homes, which were very often similarly decorated. Tweed Events Co. also employed a professional wait staff that served clients breakfast, luncheon, and tea during their appointment.

  "Mother," Bennett began, as he turned from the beautiful arched windows. His slim hands fit perfectly into the invisible pockets of his pinstriped trousers.

  "Now," she started, completely ignoring Bennett's own starting of a conversation and holding her hand out toward Jonathan as he removed an envelope from his inside blazer pocket rather obediently. "Your father and I want to pay for the wedding."

  Bennett raised an eyebrow as he walked back to stand beside Elisabeth, so they were facing Jon and Evelyn.

  "Mother, I have a trust fund," Bennett told her flatly, as if she weren't aware.

  Evelyn held the crisp, ivory envelope between her slim and perfectly manicured fingers. Elisabeth gulped, feeling intimidated by how easily the people around her spent money and how freely it seemed to flow. She didn't want the meeting to be awkward, although Bennett would control whether or not that occurred, since Jonathan Fowler wouldn't control it. He hadn't the backbone to control much anymore.

  "And you're already paying for the engagement party, which is not necessary." Bennett Fowler was not an ungrateful, wealthy son of billionaires. He was a very rigid, responsible, and upright man who had plenty of money to fund his lifestyle. He also disliked his mother speaking on behalf of his father at every turn.

  "It's necessary for me, Darling," Evelyn said, looking at her eldest son as he towered over her. "I don't want you telling Elisabeth she must buy her dress on a budget. She should have any dress she likes, and this will make sure of it," Evelyn added, offering the envelope to her son as Elisabeth shyly looked at the floor.

  He raised an eyebrow and looked down at his mother with a straight face. His cheekbones were always more pronounced when his amusement lessened.

  "Budget? I've never heard the word. In any case, Elisabeth is having a custom-made wedding dress. I wouldn't presume to tell my future wife she couldn't be the most beautiful girl on our wedding day or at any other time, for that matter," he replied, not even glancing at the envelope.

  "Darling—" Evelyn laughed slightly. "Please, don't be difficult. Jonathan, tell him."

  Jon inhaled and looked at his son. He remembered what Bennett said back in December the night of Brayden's birthday ball. Bennett told his father in no uncertain terms that he needed to 'deal' with his mother. He even said, "Do something, please, before she drives a wedge between my future wife and me." Jonathan didn't want to make a scene or ruin the atmosphere, especially for Elisabeth, whose eyes had fallen to the floor in discomfort at all the money talk. It was difficult for her because, technically, she didn't have any money at all, at least not until she and Bennett were married, so it rather felt as though she were in limbo.

  "Son, why don't you take it and decide about cashing it later," Jon advised. He wasn't asking. However, it wasn't quite the wording Evelyn wanted to hear, and she made her glare rather obvious.

  Bennett bit his tongue and politely obeyed, sliding it into his blazer as Anabelle returned. If there was one thing that put Bennett Fowler in a poor mood, it was being shown up in public – especially in front of his fiancée – who was under his authority. Although, his father had been very, very tame about his suggestion, for which Bennett was secretly grateful. If his father had been any more obvious about his tone or indication, Bennett would have probably taken Elisabeth and left to reschedule the meeting for another day - without his parents' involvement. That's what being shown up could push Bennett Fowler to do.

  Anabelle returned to the parlour with two male wait staff in smart black and white uniforms typical of the trade, one pushing a rolling trolley and another holding the door for him. They set up tea on the nearby mahogany dining table as Anabelle spoke politely with the Fowlers and Elisabeth. Bennett also asked Ana about her Christmas and New Year, for which she smiled and nodded politely.

  "It was lovely, thank you. I took the train to stay with my parents and returned after Boxing Day."

  "Yes, I recall my niece, Alice, telling me that you visit them each year."

  "Darling Alice, how is she?" Anabelle inquired, her face softening at the thought of the young woman she'd come to know as Brayden's adopted ten-year-old daughter. Anabelle had nothing less than respect for his unconditional love and support of the girl who'd had no childhood.

  "She is well," Bennett replied. "She asked me to send her loveliest regards," he added, with a straight face. Bennett didn't indulge his adopted niece's fancy for sometimes made-up or otherwise whimsical language (although it
sometimes amused him) with words that were often long, oddly strung together or all too hysterical to comprehend in the sentence she placed them. However, when it concerned the woman Bennett was certain should be courting his best friend, Brayden James, he had no qualms about utilising Alice's charm to encourage the point. He knew Anabelle Greyson liked Brayden, and Bennett knew Brayden liked Anabelle, but that it was the ridiculous dragging of respective heel and brogue that kept them from addressing their feelings for one another. Of course, it wasn't Anabelle's job to do the pursuing, so it left her to do the waiting.

  Anabelle laughed and looked down at the immaculate floorboards before returning her attention to Bennett. "Please return my loveliest regards to Alice, Mr. Fowler," she said, her laugh fading and smile following as she couldn't help but think about Alice without thinking of Brayden. How she wished she could see him.

  "I will," he replied, with a nod of his head.

  When they all sat to have tea at the dining table, conversation turned from polite conversation to wedding planning. Anabelle took notes as Bennett and Elisabeth chatted through ideas about how the wedding might look. Evelyn and Jonathan listened as they watched their son and future daughter-in-law hold hands under the table, look at each other between suggestions, and share a few smiles. Evelyn could see Bennett truly loved the girl, and it caused her to remain quiet for most of the meeting, which was most unlike her. There was something in their relationship – as new as it was – that was missing from her own very experienced marriage. Jonathan never looked at her that way anymore; he'd stopped trying to adore her a long time ago, and Evelyn knew why… because she stopped letting him.

  Elisabeth didn't try to take over; she didn't interrupt Bennett: she gave in easily if he disagreed with an idea. Elisabeth was perfectly happy to watch Bennett speak and to hear his thoughts. At first, Evelyn found the mechanics of their communication sobering, and then it became uncomfortable.

  "Now, have we decided on the date? The engagement party is in two weeks, so I'd like to encourage that wedding invitations go out shortly after," Anabelle advised.

  Bennett and Elisabeth looked at each other.

  "Well, I think, perhaps, since the engagement party is in February, we should consider anytime from July until September," Bennett replied, looking across the table at Ana as she poured herself another cup of tea.

  "Is that what you think, Elisabeth?" Evelyn asked, finding her voice after a rather quiet interlude.

  Elisabeth turned from Bennett to look at her future mother-in-law, then back again. "I don't really have a preference, I suppose," she said, caught somewhat off-guard by the question.

  "It's your wedding, too, my dear," Evelyn replied, giving her a smile and completely avoiding any glance in her son's direction.

  Bennett looked at the ceiling.

  "I'm quite happy with whatever Bennett decides," Elisabeth said, forcing a smile, hoping that wouldn't further provoke Evelyn, who clearly had an issue with the ease of the conversation.

  Elisabeth was sure that Evelyn liked things to be more complicated and drawn out than perhaps they needed to be. An observation she would, of course, keep to herself. Elisabeth would have been correct in her assumption if she'd shared it with Anabelle Greyson, who'd worked with Evelyn Fowler exclusively to plan the engagement party. Rather, Evelyn planned all of it and then delegated the details to Anabelle and her team. Bennett and Elisabeth were only supposed to show up at Greystone Hall and enjoy the glamorous party (which was also highly unnecessary in Bennett's eyes). Evelyn was even a little annoyed that couldn't have been the same outcome for the wedding.

  "Yes, of course," Elisabeth replied. "I guess for me it's about getting married when it would be best for everything to be in place and for the weather to be pleasant, really. I know there are so many weddings that time of year; I don't want to be difficult." She managed to slip in a nervous laugh as she looked back at Anabelle.

  Anabelle smiled. "You're not in the least, darling. Of course, you know English weather is as reliable as anything," she replied, giving Elisabeth an amused but polite look. It was, in fact, the most unreliable thing about England. No one could count on the weather. It did just as it pleased no matter whose wedding or Jubilee it was.

  "Darling, why don't you choose the date?" Evelyn suggested, clearly wanting to see Elisabeth make a decision without her son's input.

  Bennett looked at his father and then his mother.

  "I think I will get back to you with the date, if that's all right, Anabelle," Bennett answered, still looking at his mother.

  Ana could tell there was a bit of tension in the air, even if it was terribly polite. She agreed and moved the conversation to a close without being obvious. Anabelle was good at that simply because of the very nature of the clients she worked with; the wealthy always seemed to be highly strung.

  Bennett saw Elisabeth into the limo after the meeting and told his driver to close the door. She watched through the window as Bennett stood on the pavement speaking to his parents but soon looked away when she realised his posture. He wasn't pleased.

  "Goodbye, Mother." He kissed her cheek once and stepped away.

  "I haven't said goodbye to Elisabeth."

  "You've done enough for one day," Bennett replied.

  "Son," Jonathan started.

  Bennett might have been taller than and half as wealthy as his parents, but he still respected them. Whenever he looked at his father, he remembered the infrequent receiving of his leather strap and the very abrupt verbal or physical correction he gave when he was home from business trips long enough to do so. Yet, whenever Bennett looked at his mother, he remembered how often she had disciplined him in Jon's absence, not wanting to wait for him to return from the office or a business trip abroad to discipline their sons. Evelyn Fowler had taken on that duty from as far back as they could all remember and until her eldest son withdrew his trust fund and moved out of Greystone Hall. He was just beginning to understand the fine line between remembering all those punishments, which she often held over his head, and living on his own estate with only himself to be accountable to.

  "The poor girl barely got to speak a word. This is her wedding, and you didn't let her make any decisions," Evelyn quietly reprimanded her grown son. Her fur coat and heels made her look more sophisticated than her voice and expression implied.

  "Elisabeth spoke when she had something to say," he replied.

  "She daren't say anything without your approval!" Evelyn pressed, pulling her fur coat closed with her leather gloved hands. Jonathan put a hand on his wife's back.

  "Precisely, and she is perfectly content in the knowledge that her place is under my authority, which means she has opinions and thoughts, but final decisions require my stamp of approval."

  Evelyn looked at Jon as though her right to vote had just been taken from her. "Elisabeth is capable of making decisions - "

  "With all due respect, the dynamics of our relationship are not up for discussion," Bennett interrupted, in a tone that clearly indicated Evelyn should stop pressing.

  "I think what your mother is trying to say is that she would have liked to have seen more of her participation this morning. We want Elisabeth to be happy with her wedding."

  "It's my wedding too," Bennett said, looking at his father. "With all due respect, I don't appreciate this, from either of you."

  Jonathan's fatherly instinct was rekindled as he concentrated his attention more fully on Bennett with a look that was warning enough in itself.

  "It is quite simple; Elisabeth is not in charge in our relationship. I am. It's how we both like it and I'm damn lucky to have found her because I daresay most women have it backward when they think it's perfectly acceptable to trod all over the men they claim to love," Bennett replied.

  Jon and Evelyn looked at each other.

  "Elisabeth knows her place, I suggest you stop trying to convince her otherwise." Bennett glanced at his watch. "Now if you'll excuse me, we have reservations for
luncheon." His abrupt departure cued the driver to open the limo door.

  Evelyn was furious at her son's words. She was furious on behalf of Elisabeth, then furious at Elisabeth for not being furious with Bennett because she was. Beyond furious, Evelyn was deeply offended by the dynamics of her son's relationship because somehow, it caused her to feel a little bit guilty.

  Chapter Three

  The freezing chill of the typical late-January breeze made Alice thankful for her woollen tights. She would have been foolish to think knee socks were acceptable. "Oh, hello!" she called, when she spied Elisabeth walking down the stone path toward her in the formal gardens.

  Alice watched her approach in the grey formal woollen coat with a rounded collar, Elisabeth's tights and patent shoes making them look about the same age from a distance.

  "Did you just get back?" Alice asked, when Elisabeth reached her at the fountain.

  "Yes. Bennett made me change out of my cape and put on a coat with proper sleeves. It wasn't this cold in London," she remarked, straightening her stylishly demure mittens on her hands.

  "How was it?"

  "Fine, I suppose," Elisabeth replied, with a small shrug.

  "Fine? You suppose?" Alice turned back to Elisabeth, but carried on walking backward toward the labyrinth of hedge walls beyond them. "Come on, Elisabeth, this is your wedding we're talking about!"

  Elisabeth rolled her eyes and laughed a little. "You're going to fall on your bum if you're not careful," she warned Alice, turning the girl by her shoulders, so they walked beside each other.

  "Turning into Aunty Elisabeth already," Alice rolled her eyes.

  "Yes, well, we haven't long until that's exactly who I become," she replied.

  Alice skipped ahead to the parting of two hedge walls and then turned to Elisabeth who walked at a more mature pace.

  "Was Uncle Bennett terribly particular? I'm sure he was. Oh! Did he tell Ana I said hello? I told him to."

  Elisabeth reached Alice and turned the girl by her shoulders once again, with a smile. "Yes, he was, yes, he did, and nobody tells your Uncle Bennett anything," her gentle yet slightly maternal voice told Alice.