The Glass House

by Bella Bryce

  "I have a few other words in mind, and they don't sound a thing like 'oh dear,'" Brayden said.

  "What? You don't like arrogant prep school boys?" she asked, with a sarcastic questioning tone and a smile.

  Brayden raised an eyebrow.

  "You were never one of those?" Anabelle pushed, wrinkling her nose slightly.

  Brayden let out a chuckle and shook his head. "If I was, it didn't last long. Neither my father nor the Headmaster would have allowed that. Unfortunately, things are very different ten years on."

  "Yes, I quite agree."

  Brayden took another sip of champagne and stole a glance at Anabelle's black velvet dress with boat neck and cap sleeves. She looked beautiful without being suggestive; it was a trait she carried off extremely well.

  "I see Evelyn signalling for me," Ana said, looking over Brayden's perfectly postured shoulder. She could have put her hands on his shoulders and stared into his brown eyes all evening.

  "I'll walk with you," he said, pulling Ana out of her thoughts.

  She smiled and nervously walked past him to lead the way as he stepped aside.

  "Anabelle!" Alice exclaimed, when she saw them approaching.

  Brayden gave his daughter a look.

  "I mean, Miss Greyson. I'm sorry," she said, glancing from Brayden to Ana.

  "Hello, Darling," Ana said, and bent down to receive an enthusiastic hug from the girl. "You look lovely," she told Alice.

  Bennett, who stood nearby, looked straight at Brayden, who only sipped his champagne and put one hand in his trouser pocket in response. He knew that look from Bennett.

  "Thank you," Alice said, looking down at her prim and juvenile dress. "So do you."

  "You're sweet," Ana said, putting her hand gently on Alice's back.

  "Doesn't she look beautiful, Father?"

  Bennett wanted to spit out his champagne, although he managed to swallow it. Brayden looked at Ana, causing her to blush and chuckle.

  "She does, indeed, Alice."

  "Anabelle, may I have a word?" Evelyn asked, turning and putting a smile on her face. It was a fake smile, without a doubt, and everybody knew it.

  "Yes, Mrs. Fowler, of course," Ana replied, as she glanced at Brayden and then quickly stepped aside with Evelyn.

  Bennett didn't say a word, but he stared intently at Brayden, who looked up at the ceiling and then left his champagne glass on a tray that passed by a moment later.

  Elisabeth hadn't stopped smiling for most of the party. Bennett introduced her to countless people, including his old Headmaster. It was rather amusing for Elisabeth to witness Bennett calling anyone 'Sir', considering she was soundly smacked across his knee for negating to call her fiancé the same. Elisabeth hadn't gone to private school, and she found there was a certain mystique about those who did attend, with all the old attitudes and roles seemingly falling right back into place as though they were amongst the hallowed halls once again.

  "I must say, Fowler, I was rather impressed to receive news of your engagement. You weren't one of the boys I thought ever would marry," the Headmaster said, his hands clasped neatly behind his suit.

  Elisabeth bit her lip and closed her eyes for half a second. Bennett cleared his throat.

  "Thank you, Sir," he replied. It wasn't the kind of thing he wished his old Headmaster to say in front of his bride to be, that was for sure.

  "You know, Fowler used to be a very studious boy, but it meant he wasn't very good at making friends, aside from James," the Headmaster told Elisabeth, as he nodded in Brayden's direction. The Headmaster turned back to Bennett. "I think you had the entire Sixth Form on your bad side by the time you finished being Head Boy." He looked at Elisabeth. "He'd caned most of them by then."

  Elisabeth laughed politely.

  "Yes, well, as you know, being Head Boy meant I wasn't anybody's friend, Sir, just like being Headmaster didn't make you my friend. I near enough saw the end of your cane countless times," Bennett replied, quickly, with a forced smile, which only produced a raised eyebrow from his old Headmaster.

  Elisabeth managed to hold back further laughter, although she had to look at the ground in order to do so. It was nothing short of amusing to see Bennett called to task by his old Headmaster. She might tease him about it later albeit doing so on incredibly light footing so as not to cross a line. Bennett didn't like joking and teasing, and he really didn't like being shown up in front of anybody, but especially in front of Elisabeth because of his role in their relationship.

  Alice stood holding Brayden's hand whilst he spoke to several acquaintances, her attention caught by Bennett as he led Elisabeth past the orchestra onto the ballroom floor. He rested one hand on her hip and then took her other hand in his. Alice smiled with the corner of her mouth as she watched Elisabeth and Bennett on the dance floor.

  "Are you enjoying your party?" Bennett asked, as he led Elisabeth in a slow dance.

  She smiled as she looked up at him. His chest was so pronounced in the waistcoat and blazer that she had to fight the temptation to ask if they could elope right there in that moment, just so she could get beneath that suit before the evening ended. She was sure there was an ordained pastor amongst the guests in attendance.

  "Yes, Sir," Elisabeth replied, with a bit of a grin.

  "Is something amusing?" Bennett asked, bending down toward her ear.

  She bit her lip and shook her head. "Oh, nothing Sir, I was just greatly amused by your old Headmaster," Elisabeth said, with an enormous grin.

  Bennett raised his eyebrows expectantly. "It will be greatly amusing to have you across my knee later, young lady. Don't you think?"

  Elisabeth couldn't help but press her lips together as she hid a smile and shook her head.

  "I dare say it will," he added, in his usual straight tone with a raised eyebrow.

  She managed a giggle as they carried on. Bennett's perfect posture, his comfort and ease as he led them in a romantic slow dance rather surprised her. Neither Bennett nor Elisabeth were terribly keen on dancing, but Bennett knew almost better than most other social graces how to slow dance, and the wall of handsome that he was in a suit looking down at her was all Elisabeth needed to get over that hesitation.

  Damian had been sipping the same glass of champagne, trying to avoid his mother, whom he knew would do the same thing she'd done to Bennett until recent events – try to set him up. Damian couldn't help but watch his elder brother and Elisabeth with polite envy, noticing how Elisabeth looked up at him with an adoring smile. Every time he saw them. It was terribly sweet, but annoying.

  "Is this where you've been since the meal?" Brayden asked, as he stopped beside Damian.

  "I'm hiding."

  "It appears that way," Brayden said, nodding toward the topiary plant beside him. "Very subtle," he added.

  Damian cracked a smile. "That's me. Subtle." Damian's eyes reconnected with Bennett and Elisabeth.

  "Are you staying in England now until the wedding?" Brayden asked, when he noticed where Damian's attention rested.

  "I don't know," he answered, pensively. "I'm quite enjoying staying at Barton-Court with Bennett at the moment, if one can believe that. He's asked me to keep him company until Elisabeth moves in. I daresay I shall have to know my life's purpose by then."

  Brayden watched as Damian dejectedly placed his champagne flute on a passing tray.

  "Aren't you going to offer me any advice?" Damien grumbled, glancing at his brother's best friend.

  "I guess I figured you got enough of that living with Bennett," Brayden replied, with a quick smile.

  Brayden and Damian stood side by side watching the guests slow dance on the ballroom floor, but their attention had turned to Bennett and Elisabeth.

  "Why is it that he gets the happy ending?" Damian mused.

  Brayden didn't take his eyes off them as he replied, "Because he was brave enough to pursue her."

  "What about you?"

  "What about me?" Brayden asked, with polite amusemen
t.

  "Well, I noticed the unmistakeable sparkle in your eyes earlier, when you were speaking to Mother's little helper." Damian nodded in Anabelle's direction."

  "Her name is Anabelle," Brayden corrected, factually.

  "I'm sure it is. What's her last name?"

  "Greyson," Brayden replied.

  "For now," Damian remarked. "If you'll excuse me, I owe my niece a dance."

  Brayden opened his eyes and looked up at the ornate ballroom ceiling. It wasn't entirely what he thought would become of conversation with Damian Fowler. Not in the least.

  "I'm sorry, my dance card is full," Alice replied, her hands occupied by her ninth Shirley Temple as she refused to look at Damian.

  "You're dance card is full? You silly girl, nobody has dance cards these days." He chuckled.

  Alice continued sipping through her straw as she held the crystal glass with two hands and stared at the guests on the dance floor, making a point to ignore him.

  "Are you cross with me, then? Hey," Damian bent down slightly.

  "You don't like me anymore," Alice replied, with the straw pushed to one side of her mouth and a deliberate frown on her face.

  Damian was slightly amused. "What?"

  Alice pulled the straw out of her mouth and lowered the glass. She looked directly at Damian. "You don't like any of us anymore, but especially me. You promised to send me postcards and I only got one from the Queen Mary and none from Berlin. You never even phoned me, and guess what? Uncle Bennett is my favourite now. He took me to Costa Coffee to get hot chocolate and we play chess all the time."

  Damian exhaled. "Darling," he started, then stood up and took the glass from Alice's hands. "Come with me," he said, and put the glass on a passing tray offered by one of the wait staff, then led her by the hand over to a zoned seating area.

  "I apologise for not keeping my word about sending you postcards, Alice," he said, sitting across from her in one of the finely upholstered, wooden-framed chairs.

  She was still not amused.

  "I'm not as organised as everybody else around here, and I wish I could have taken you into town as well," Damian said.

  "Disciplined," Alice corrected. "You're not as disciplined. That's the word."

  He wasn't as natural as Bennett and Brayden when it came to speaking to Alice. Damian wasn't as paternal or naturally dominant as they were, either, but he was genuine.

  "But you said you would and you didn't. I'm mad at you."

  Damian pulled his chair closer to Alice's. "I'm not very good at being consistent like Uncle Bennett, but I am still your uncle and I do care about you."

  "You didn't even want to come home and be Father Christmas, I heard you say it to Aunty Evelyn. I played along, and the entire time you didn't even want to be here," Alice accused.

  "Darling, I came back to be Father Christmas for you, and because Uncle Bennett was going to propose. I did it for you both."

  "Why can't you just stay in England? Why do you have to keep leaving?" Alice pressed, her tone moving from annoyed to hurt.

  Damian looked down. "I don't know, Darling," he replied.

  "You hate your life, that's why," Alice said.

  Damian looked up at her.

  "That's why I left mine to live at Waldorf, and it's the only reason people ever leave."

  "But I don't dislike you." Damian reached for her hand.

  Alice let him take it and watched him offer a closed mouth smile.

  "I really missed you, Uncle Damian," she replied, in a small voice.

  "Aw." Damian tugged at her hand to encourage her off the chair. Alice got to her feet and stood in front of Damian's knees. "Come here," he said, and gave Alice a cuddle. "I missed you, too."

  "Please, don't go away anymore. You'll miss everything."

  Brayden remained in the place beside the topiary Damian had previously occupied for an unprecedented amount of time. He rather enjoyed the subtle space where he could still see everything. Brayden was in the perfect place when Damian led Alice onto the dance floor moments later. Whilst Damian wasn't as tall as Bennett (which would have been a great deal more amusing to watch) he was tall enough that it warranted Alice being directed to stand on his shoes – which she did – and produced an audible laugh from her. Brayden half smiled at the sight, thinking he might go to pieces when it was Alice's turn to get married. He daren't continue entertaining the thought.

  Alice leaving Waldorf Manor was another thought that would put him to an early death. The idea of her marrying into the strong and deserving arms of a man who would fiercely protect her the way she needed to be protected and loved, was teasing him. Brayden wanted good things for Alice, but he also, admittedly, very selfishly, wanted her to remain a ten-year-old forever, in his own protective and comforting arms.

  He promptly scolded himself for allowing his mind to wander off to Alice's hypothetical wedding day, and the deep melancholy such thoughts always left him with. He knew better than to go there, especially in public. Brayden could be brought to tears any place and any time if the idea of Alice growing up and leaving Waldorf came to him, so he quickly frowned and straightened his cufflinks before abandoning the topiary.

  "Isn't it bad manners to wander off at our own engagement party?" Elisabeth asked as Bennett led her down the large, beautiful corridor of Greystone Hall's first floor. Elisabeth glanced over her shoulder as the main staircase leading to the foyer below drew further from them.

  "It's bad manners when it isn't your party. My mother is the hostess, so she can't go anywhere. That's just as well, because I want a moment alone with you," he said, as he continued to walk ahead of her, his hand firmly grasping hers.

  Elisabeth walked behind him with a jolly grin on her face as her only view was the back and shoulders of his finely tailored suit and neatly combed hair. She could stare at a photograph of that all day long.

  "Where are we going?" she asked, giving a nervous little laugh.

  "To the balcony off my old bedroom. It's a beautiful view, and I want to show it to you. Perhaps even kiss you without two hundred people staring," Bennett replied, still looking ahead and speaking in a very business-like voice. He was determined to get away from the crowd with his fiancée just for a moment and nothing would stop him; he'd played Mr. Social all afternoon.

  "Who is that for?" Elisabeth asked, as they passed six sets of French doors, making out the silhouettes through the open lace curtains of a rocking horse, toy trunk and several other pieces of obvious nursery furniture in the late afternoon shade of the corridor and adjacent windows.

  Bennett glanced over. "My mother likes to reminisce," he replied.

  Elisabeth stopped walking, causing Bennett to pause ahead of her. He looked back and noticed she was staring through the French doors with immeasurable curiosity. Bennett raised an eyebrow and took a few steps back to her slowly. He could see that it was a very personal curiosity, too.

  "Would you like to go in?" he asked, in a tone that was more like, 'I can see you're interested in my old nursery – this is strangely delightful to me.'

  Elisabeth gave him a mischievous smile.

  "Oh, dear," Bennett said, standing directly over her. "There's a lot more to my Elisabeth than I'd realised," he said, holding her chin for a moment before they softly kissed.

  "You don't know the half of it," she replied, once they'd pulled away.

  Bennett's expression displayed unashamed, widened eyes and he extracted an extremely rare laugh as Elisabeth bit her lip and shyly approached the nearest door, this time with her leading Bennett.

  They stepped inside the very formal and Victorian-esque nursery and closed the door quietly. It was as if the room were still in use with how clean and well maintained it was. The nursery furniture matched the rest of Greystone's antique furniture with a mahogany wooden cot, matching wooden armoire with a gold key in the door, a wooden trunk that was assumed to be full of toys and several other bits of typical nursery furniture. Bennett put his hands on Elisa
beth's face gently and kissed her for a long interlude.

  "If you keep kissing me, I might have to go and try out that rather enticing rocking horse, Mr. Fowler," Elisabeth said, looking up at him with demure eyes.

  Bennett raised an eyebrow.

  "Just try playing with any of the toys in this nursery without my permission, and you'll see what happens," he warned, in a quiet but firm voice.

  Elisabeth nearly melted, but a response came to her mind before she had the chance.

  "Bennett Theodore Fowler doesn't like to share; why doesn't that surprise me?" she asked, in a strangely confident voice.

  His face showed obvious shock as Elisabeth gently removed his hands from her face and she took a few tentative steps away before glancing over her shoulder at him.

  "I don't always like to do as I'm told, and I'm rather tempted to climb into that cot. You might want to stop me," Elisabeth shyly warned. The Victorian cot was still in immaculate condition, which was no surprise to her.

  Bennett looked back over his shoulder through the French doors beyond where they stood, but he could have cared less if anyone saw them conversing or kissing in his old nursery. It was most unexpected that he found himself there with Elisabeth. Unexpected, but terribly arousing.

  "Don't climb in, I'll put you there myself," Bennett said, removing a hand from his trouser pocket as he followed her across the room.

  "On second thought, I'd rather see what's in here," Elisabeth's voice chimed. She approached the armoire and glanced at Bennett as she mischievously turned the key in the door.

  "I see," Bennett said, stepping up behind and wrapping his hands around her waist gently where her satin sash and ribbon were tied.

  Elisabeth's mouth formed a wide smile as she opened the armoire to reveal a wardrobe of vintage boys' clothes; Bennett and Damian's old toddler clothes no doubt, displaying sailor suits, rompers and miniature blazers and formal shorts.

  "I'm sure you looked disgustingly adorable in these." Elisabeth half-turned to meet Bennett as he was directly over her shoulder. He looked downward and kissed her shoulder.

  "I was," he replied, planting a second kiss on her cheek. "What a shame none of these are for little girls," he said, his mouth hovering beside her ear as he moved his long arms from her waist to close the armoire doors in front of her and turned the key.