All Screwed Up (Belial's Disciples Book 2)
Page 17
“She’s far too young and pretty to want a gallop with you, Freddie.” She stuck out a hand and smiled. “Constance Fitzgerald.”
God, even I’d heard of her. Lady Constance Fitzgerald, a duke’s daughter, Olympic medal winner for horse riding, and her detective novels hit the number one spot every time.
“Pleased to meet you!” I squeaked. “I’m such a huge fan.”
She flashed a smile. “Call me Connie.”
“I’m Freddie and gloriously single,” her brother said as he pinched my arse.
“Lady Constance, Lord Fitzgerald, welcome. I will see to the car and luggage.” Mitch, dressed like a butler and solidly reassuring, piloted all of us into a pretty drawing room with pale yellow walls and tonnes of antique furniture, all mismatched. Also, it was stuffed with people, all dripping with glamour, and roaring at each other.
“Connie, darling!”
“Freddie, it’s been yonks. Quick, you’re two G&Ts behind.”
“Are the Fawset-Smyths coming?”
“Yes, and Hippo’s on his way.”
“Sally’s texted. Her chopper died, so she’s hitching a ride with Ludo.”
“Ludo’s a terrible pilot. He gave me a lift to Ascot, and we ended up at Checkers. The PM was so miffed that I had to send her a case of Bolly.”
If my feet hadn’t been nailed to the floor, I would’ve turned and ran. I’d been a fool to think a dress would make me fit in. This lot weren’t out of my league; they were from a different universe.
Brianne floated past, holding a tray of drinks. Managing not to see me, she presented it to Lady Constance and was welcomed instantly. “Brianne, sweetie! Are you working for Rex?”
“Yes,” Brianne nodded and smiled.
“I haven’t seen you since you and Ally were at school,” Lady Constance was air-kissing away. “All you girls have to work so hard.”
With a sinking heart, I understood that this crowd were so close knitted, that even the staff were insiders. As Brianne drifted off, still managing to ignore me, I felt invisible. This was going to be a long night.
Just as I was considering sneaking off, Rex materialised. “You look smashing.” He snagged me a glass of bubbly and then he swung me around, addressing a redhead with a sulky mouth,” Ulke, may I introduce Lacy Redwood? Lacy, this is Lady Ulke Paddington.”
The cold way she nodded made my knees shake but pride kicked in. I wasn’t going to show my fear. Channelling Audrey Hepburn worked beautifully, overlaying the yellow streak with a veneer of poise and confidence. “How do you do?”
Then we went through the same thing with Mrs. Hyde, a tall, bony blonde who appeared to have a bad smell permanently stuck under her nose. She looked me up and down, slowly, and then sighed, “Pleased to meet you” as though it were a burden to even be near me.
Frankly, I was beginning to rise at all the bad manners, but Rex was already moving on. “Lacy, may I introduce the Right Reverend the Bishop of Sussex? My Lord, this is Lacy Redwood.”
The bishop was short, plump and shiny, definitely a man who spent too much time at the dinner table. He had clammy hands and a huge smile. “Miss Redwood delighted to meet you. Are you by any chance related to the Shropshire Redwoods?”
It sounded nice, but the glint in his eyes told me he was trying it on. He’d seen I was feeling out of it and he was hoping I’d try and pretend I was a nob too. If I did, he’d spend the evening torturing me. The bishop wasn’t a nice man.
As bullying in the modelling world runs at a professional level, I didn’t blink. “Oh no,” I said sweetly. “I’m nobody.”
Ignoring the bishop who looked non-plussed Rex smiled at a long, lean man with a military bearing, “And this is Sir William Rhys-Lawson, Lord Lieutenant of Greater Bonnington and, for his sins, my godfather.”
“Lacy, what a lovely name. Call me Bill.” Rex’s godfather was a sweetie, but he was such a bigwig, that I was momentarily shy.
Then Rex took me around the room and introduced me to every other person there. The names were going in one ear and out the other, but before long I was getting the hang of the pecking order. Men were introduced to women, and the lower ranks were presented to the toffs.
As the lowliest person there, I was presented to all the girls, and then, thanks to the glories of my sex, all the boys got to meet me. While I forgot who was who almost instantly, I saw straight away why Rex had been antsy. The guests weren’t just nobs, the ones who weren’t lords and ladies were billionaire CEOs and mega politicians.
It was only when Mrs. Featherstone, a gargoyle dressed in puce, gushed, “Lord Ravenshurst, this is such a delightful room. I’m so jealous. Do tell, who is your decorator?” that it dawned on me that Rex was a nob too.
He was polite, saying, “It was all done before my time, I’m afraid.” and smart enough to palm her off by adding, “You should ask Lady Prescott. She’s doing up Bluebell Court and knows everyone who matters.”
As that was the woman whose hubby had paid to meet this lot, she was chuffed to bits and very quickly boring the gargoyle, allowing super smooth Rex to slide quietly into a group of men. Being disinterested in home decor, I followed.
The boys were gathered around Sir Oliver Prescott, the new knight, who was happily talking money. “We’re buying Euros and dumping our Saudi Riyal.”
“So are we,” Sir William said. “What’s your take, Rex?”
Rex was deep into it. “Swiss Franks are good. And I like the look of the Chinese stock market.”
“China? Too risky for my blood.”
“Alibaba is the Amazon in Asia.”
“What do you think about South Korean tech?” Sir Oliver asked.
I didn’t even understand Rex’s reply, but from the sparkling eyes, this was just jam to him. Rex was the MC’s banker, and now I was seeing him in his natural environment: Lord Ravenshurst could have been a billionaire CEO if he wanted.
The money talk was dull, but when I foolishly stepped back, I found myself in the frying pan with Lady Ulke, the bishop, and Mrs. Hyde.
“It’s our wedding anniversary, and we were meant to go to Paris,” Lady Ulke sighed, “but John, my husband, says he simply can’t miss this gathering.” She nodded at me. “I adore Rex and Perdition is heaven, but I’m exhausted. We’ve not had a holiday in two years.”
No wonder she looked sulky. “Rex said we’d go sailing tomorrow, but if you want to hang out and relax, you can duck out.”
“It would be rude,” she smiled.
“No worries, I’ll cover for you.”
Lady Ulke’s frown had vanished, but Mrs. Hyde’s snobby nose was twitching. “We’d not heard Rex had a girlfriend. How did you meet?”
“We ran into each other in town and hit it off.”
“And he invited you to stay?” The way the woman said it, it was clear she thought I was a pleb and way out of my league. She was right, but it was bloody rude. “Or are you just here for drinks?”
“Oh, I’m staying,” I took a swig of my champagne. “Rex rescued me.”
Rex must have had ears on strings because he was straight over, interjecting pokerfaced, “That’s overstating it.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” I teased.
Mrs. Hyde was intent. “Oh, are you in trouble of some kind?”
“You might say so,” I saw Rex stiffen, thinking I was about to mention the Horde and the Disciples. I grinned at him, just to pull his leg, and added, “The water pipes in my cottage burst and the ceiling came down.”
Mrs. Hyde was instantly bored, which was just what I’d intended, and Rex breathed again.
“Having builders in is a fate worse than death.” Sir William, Rex’s godfather, sympathised.
“Yes, but I’m sure I’ve seen you before,” the bishop mused. “Your face is so familiar.”
Rex glanced over, eyes full of horror. He knew just as well as I where the man had seen me.
“It’s such a pretty face,” Sir William grinned.
N
ow Rex was looking at him, and clocking his godfather also knew.
“A newspaper? A magazine?” The bishop was thinking aloud. “I just can’t think. For some reason, garden benches come to mind.” But then his eyes popped, and he had trouble swallowing. He was remembering.
“The Chelsea Flower Show maybe?” Mrs. Hyde suggested.
The bishop was too horrified to speak.
“Any ideas, Lacy?” Sir William stirred.
I winked at Rex, just for the joy of seeing him wince. “I know where you’ve seen me, bish.” He was going purple, a nice, ecclesiastical colour, I thought. “The Women’s Institute Journal,” I said loudly. “A piece on garden furniture.”
Rex gasped and pretended to cough, Sir William hissed with pleasure, and the bishop was so relieved that he was all over me. “Absolutely, yes, that was it.”
“Always nice to meet a fan.”
“Right, yes, erm, very nice work. Artistic.”
Rex broke it up. “Another sherry, My Lord?”
As he quietly led the man away and poured him a bucket of the stuff, the crowd coalesced and reconfigured, leaving Sir William and me in a quiet alcove.
“They were beautiful photos,” he grinned
“You’re also a fan?”
“I’m part of an investment group. Some years ago, we considered a Barrows project.”
“Small world.” I had to ask. “Seen him lately?”
“Never met him,” Sir William replied. “It didn’t get past the application stage.” He smiled, “But I remember that photo as if it were yesterday. It was beautiful, terrifying.”
I took in the crowd around us. “Are you going to rat me out?”
“No way,” Sir William sipped his whiskey. “I’ve been worried about Rex. You’re perfect for him.”
I was gobsmacked. “You’ve got the wrong end of the stick. We’re not an item.”
He just smiled. “Oh really? I must have misunderstood.”
Before I could ask what he’d heard, Lady Ulke was back, drink in hand and a lanky chinless wonder on her heels. “Ahoy, there,” he said jovially. “We thought we’d berth here.”
The nautical talk brought it back to me: this was Sir Percy Whittington, a merchant banker who dabbled in sailing. Or rather, a sailing nut who was with a bank.
“Percy, I hear you’re up for a seat on the board,” Sir William greeted him warmly.
Percy frowned. “I should be, but it’s by no means a done deal.”
“I heard Polly Wyndham might get it,” Lady Ulke said excitedly.
“Really?” Sir William asked. “That would be a first. Elton’s has never had a woman on the board.”
“The MeToo movement has gone too far,” Percy announced. “They’re saying we should skip the election process and appoint a female director. That’s sexism. If women were good enough for the board, they’d be there.”
Lady Ulke bridled instantly. “Nonsense. Toxic masculinity is rife. It’s well past time we addressed the issue.”
“Oh, come on,” the chinless wonder sneered. “I think we all agree that the ladies don’t do well in senior positions. Put them in charge, and they’re all at sea.”
Lady Ulke was so miffed that she turned away abruptly, abandoning Sir William to Percy and sweeping me along in her rage.
“Bloody Percy,” she hissed. “Polly started at the bottom and worked her arse off whereas Percy was handed his job on a silver platter and he’s done sod all. I want to slap him silly.”
“Look at it this way,” I said quietly. “That man’s so thick, he stands on a chair to raise his IQ.”
“Meow!” Lady Ulke said cattily. “It’s men like him that put up the glass ceiling.”
“He wants to disqualify half the population,” I suggested. “He’s got enough trouble beating the boys, and if he has to beat us girls as well, he’s sunk.”
“Probably.” She smiled at me, “I love your dress.”
“Isn’t it glorious? Rex bought it for me.” Then, because she was being nice. “I’m jealous of your hair. It’s heaven.”
“Maybe, but I’ve always loved bright pink, and with being a redhead, I can’t wear it.”
“Sure you can! You’ve got style. You can carry it off.”
“I don’t know,” she wavered.
“It’s like your bracelet,” I pointed out. “All those lovely colours clash, but it’s beautiful.”
Lady Ulke twisted it thoughtfully. “This was Mummy’s. She passed away last year.”
Involuntarily, I gazed across the room. Rex was back with Percy and Sir William, all of them intent, which meant he was talking money again. Good, that meant he was happy.
“He’s not over it yet.” Lady Ulke was following my gaze.
“What happened to his mum?” I heard myself ask.
Lady Ulke lowered her voice. “It was a riding accident. She took a bad toss, and the fall broke her back.”
“Oh no.”
“The ambulance people were there, but they weren’t allowed to cross over the stream and into the woods,” Lady Ulke sighed. “Health and safety regulations.”
“So they just stood there?” I couldn’t speak for anger.
“Rex was there, holding her hand the entire time,” Lady Ulke continued. “She didn’t make it.”
I downed my drink and instantly reached for another one. I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice Brianne glare at me.
“His father passed a fortnight later,” Lady Ulke sighed. “It just broke his heart.”
Poor Rex. Now I knew why that whippet-thin laughing boy had turned to ice. I really felt for him.
Lady Ulke was looking miserable and still twisting her bangle. “I shouldn’t have asked,” I said impulsively. “Now I’ve gone and upset you.”
To my amazement, she smiled. “Actually, I was thinking that I was lucky. Mummy was 93 and fit and healthy right up to the end. She claimed a nightcap of whiskey kept her in the pink.”
“She sounds inspirational.” I raised my glass. “Let’s drink to her.”
Lady Ulke raised her glass. “To Mummy, and new friends.”
And then we were off, chatting away. Mrs. Hyde didn’t like it at all because she came beetling right over, crying, “Darling, you must be so bored. Come and say hello to Sally.”
Lady Ulke was going to blast her, but I winked at her. “Duty calls.”
It got me a laugh and then she was handing me a card. “Do call me Ulke. And come for lunch? I’ll give you a call next week.”
Mrs. Hyde was goggling. “You’re inviting her for lunch? Sweetie, how many drinks have you had?” The bitchy tones carried clearly over the roar of the crowd. “You don’t want Rex’s bit of fluff at Grovestone Park!”
“What the hell?” Rex at my elbow, pale-faced and furious. “What did she call you?”
After the lecture he’d given me I didn’t think he’d thump her, but I held on to his arm just in case. “Let it go. She’s a guest, remember?”
“She has no right to speak to you that way,” he growled.
“I could take a selfie with her and tell Instagram she’s a sister to me. That would put a crimp in her permanently turned up nose.”
For a second Rex looked blank and then he grinned. “That’s evil.”
“Yeah, fantasy revenge is great.”
“Nathara Hyde is a living Twitter feed, and from what I hear, she’s always rubbishing others. It would do her good to be on the receiving end for a change.”
“Probably. But I’d never do it.”
“You’re nicer than I am,” Rex smiled. “Speaking of which,” he put an arm around me and turned, saying, “Inspector, how nice to see you.”
Yes, there was Harding, glaring at me and looking thoroughly miserable at being the only brown suit in a sea of black dinner jackets and silk bow ties. “I’m here on business.” He tried to sound important, but it fell flat. “I’ve come to see the lord lieutenant.”
“Of course,” Rex said smoo
thly.
“I knew you wouldn’t mind, Rex.” Sir William appeared, smiling too. “We’ll just be a few minutes.”
“Oh, no rush.” Rex waved Brianne over. “Have a drink, Inspector.”
The man wanted to run. “No, tha-”
But he was too late; the crowd had scented an intruder. They paused, turned as one, and for a moment the din quieted right down as they took in the brown suit.
“This is Inspector Harding,” Rex announced.
“A policeman? How exciting!” Freddie was pink, loud and by the glazed eyes, he’d caught up on his G&Ts. “Are we in trouble, occifer?”
“Oooh! Can he fix parking tickets?” someone called out.
Harding stiffened with rage and Rex was right on it, “Don’t mind my friends, Inspector. They’re just a bit happy.” He sounded friendly, but the eyes were hard.
“It’s just as well we’re all overnighting,” Sir William said to Harding. “My godson’s cellar always does for us.”
“Godson?” Harding couldn’t hide his shock.
“Yes, didn’t he tell you? Of course, I never let the relationship interfere with duty.” Sir William quietly led Harding away, but I heard him add. “He has no official standing, but I do hope you won’t hesitate to consult.”
Rex watched them wander off, and the crowd was back to whooping it up.
“Rex, you set that up.” I took in the flinty eyes and hard mouth. “You got Sir William to make him come here.”
“Harding has to know his place.”
Super smooth was gone; this was lean and mean. “What’s my place?” I heard myself ask.
Rex smiled, the darkness vanishing. “That’s why I came to find you: you have to take Sir Oliver into dinner.”
“Me?” I squeaked. “No way!”
“Yes, way.” Rex was firm, putting an arm around me in a friendly way. “You lead us all into the banquet hall.”
My wildest dreams hadn’t prepared me for this. “Can’t Lady Constance or Lady Ulke do it?”
“No. You’re my partner, so you’re hostess.” He lowered his voice. “Wait for the bell and follow Mitch. Sir Oliver sits on your right.”
“Oh, help.”
“Just be yourself, relax, and it’ll be fine.”
“I should’ve gone to the Oak Leaf,” I moaned. “What on earth will I talk about? I don’t understand finance. He’ll think I’m a nitwit.”