by Beth Merlin
I tossed Jamie the keys to the car.
“You sure you don’t want to drive?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes and climbed into the passenger seat. “I’m positive.”
Jamie put the address into the car’s navigation system and searched the radio for a station. He put the top down and handed me a baseball cap from his bag.
“Trust me,” he said, putting on his own. “Otherwise we’ll look like we just stepped out of a wind tunnel.”
I slipped on the hat and tightened it in the back so it fit my head. “Thank you again for agreeing to come with me.”
“Are you kidding? It’s like we’re going to Pemberley to see where Mr. Darcy lives.”
“Mr. Malone, have you been reading Pride and Prejudice?”
Jamie handed me his phone. “Just the CliffsNotes. Tell me more about Badgley Hall. We should probably know what we’re walking into.”
I did a search and opened up their website. I clicked on the “House History” link and read aloud. “Badgley Hall lies in the heart of the Gloucestershire countryside and is home to the Earl and Countess of Harronsby. The House dates from the seventeenth century, and one of its most notable features is the moat that surrounds the house and immediate grounds.” I looked up from the phone. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Jamie raised his eyebrow. “Keep reading.”
“The formal gardens cover twelve acres. They feature a yew hedge maze created in 1846 and a ridge and furrow greenhouse designed by Joseph Paxton, architect of The Crystal Palace.”
I handed the phone back to Jamie. “Just turn the car around. This whole thing is ridiculous.”
“What whole thing?”
“This world we’re pretending to be a part of.”
“Did you and I not just spend all of yesterday with the future Queen of England? We aren’t pretending anything. Honey, this is real life. This could be your life—if you want it to be.”
“Jamie, get a hold of yourself. Gideon and I have only been on a handful of dates.”
“I know a smitten kitten when I see one, and that boy is smitten.”
Close to three hours (and a couple of wrong turns) later, we passed the first sign for Badgley Hall. Jamie turned off the main road and onto a smaller one that took us past miles and miles of unspoiled woodlands until we reached the turnoff for the main estate. We snaked our way up a gravel drive leading to a stone bridge that crossed over the moat and led to the house. I used the term house loosely, as Badgley Hall could only be described as a castle, complete with three towers and stained-glass windows. Jamie stopped the car, pushed his sunglasses up over his head, and said, “Dorothy, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”
I took in the imposing scenery and sank down in the front seat. “He grew up here? My six-hundred-square-foot apartment must’ve felt like a coffin to him.”
“Or a breath of fresh air?” Jamie pointed to the massive front entranceway door, which looked like it was cracked open. “Someone’s spotted us. We should get out of the car.”
I removed my baseball cap and smoothed out my hair in the rearview mirror. Gideon hurried down the steps of the house to greet us with a warm, welcoming smile on his face.
“How was your trip?”
“Would’ve been nice if there was a Starbucks on the route, otherwise it was great,” Jamie answered.
“I know. It’s not like your American highways with rest stops along the way.”
“I’ll take rolling hills and pastoral views over the New Jersey Turnpike any day,” I said.
“It really is gorgeous, isn’t it? I’ve lived here my whole life and still find it awe-inspiring,” Gideon replied. “Welcome to Badgley Hall,” he said, leading us into the grand foyer.
Jamie and I set down our bags and looked straight up to the magnificent glass dome overhead.
“Gideon, this is…overwhelming. The moat and grounds were one thing, but this is too much.”
“I promise, it’ll get far less intimidating the farther into the house you go. My parents are waiting to have tea with us in the library.” Gideon took my hand and led me down the hall.
I stopped in my tracks. “Your parents? How should I address them? How do you address them?”
“Well, I call them Mum and Dad, which you are more than welcome to do.”
I shot him a look, letting him know that was less than helpful advice.
He scratched his chin. “The proper address, I suppose, would be Lord and Lady Harronsby, but quite honestly, they’d be more than comfortable with George and Amelia.”
“Isn’t there an option that falls somewhere in between those?” I looked over to Jamie for some support.
Jamie shrugged. “Just avoid using their names. It’ll be like a game.”
Gideon looked at us like we were both crazy and moved to hold open the door to the library, a gorgeous sunlit room with a roaring fireplace and shelves and shelves of antique books. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out to the largest of the property’s gardens. On the walls were portraits of people I had to assume were the past earls of Harronsby, and the ceilings were covered in frescoes by Italian masters.
I leaned in and whispered in Gideon’s ear, “You’re right. This is muuuccchhh less impressive.”
He smirked and put his hand on the small of my back to lead me farther into the room. “Mum. Dad. This is Georgica Goldstein and Jamie Malone.”
A couple close in age to my own parents stood up to greet us. I could immediately see Gideon had inherited his coloring from his father, and his more striking features, like his piercing green-gray eyes and wide smile, from his mother.
“Nice to meet you both,” I said, shaking hands with each of them, relieved Gideon had saved me from having to address them by name.
“Please, take a seat.” Gideon’s mother pointed to the small couch across from them. Jamie and I barely fit on it together.
“Gideon tells us you’re from New York?” she asked.
“I am. I was born and raised there.”
“I’m from a small town in Georgia, but I’ve lived in New York City so long now I consider it my home,” Jamie said.
“And Georgica, your father’s a top barrister?” Gideon’s father chimed in from the far side of the room.
“He’s a partner at a well-known law firm.”
Gideon stood up to pour Jamie and me a cup of tea.
“Milk? Sugar?” he asked.
“Just milk, thank you,” I replied.
“I’ll take mine black unless you have two percent,” Jamie said.
Gideon picked up the creamer. “The milk’s from a farm on property.”
I squeezed Jamie hard on the leg.
“Just black is fine,” Jamie answered.
Gideon’s mother gave me a small smile. “I hear you’re designing Victoria Ellicott’s wedding gown. That’s quite wonderful. Have you always been into fashion?”
“No, not always,” I answered. “I was overweight as a girl, so I started designing my own clothes when I couldn’t find options in the stores I liked or that fit.”
This time, Jamie squeezed my leg.
“I guess it was sometime during university that it became more of a career path and, of course, then I was on Top Designer, which sealed it.”
“Top Designer? What’s that?” Gideon’s father asked.
“It’s a reality show. A design competition,” Gideon answered.
“It’s where Jamie and I met,” I said.
Gideon’s mother picked up her teacup. “Did you win?”
“Uh, no. I didn’t,” I said.
“We don’t watch much television anyway,” she said.
I gestured to the windows. “Why would you when you’re surrounded by such gorgeous scenery? Your home is incredible. It’s breathtaking, really.”
Gideon’s mother stood and walked over to the window. “Yes, thank you. It’s quite a lot to maintain, but we love it here.”
“I can certainly se
e why.” My eyes wandered over the intricate crown molding and the ornate patterns of the decorative tapestries.
Jamie set his tea down on a side table and turned to Gideon. “How does it work with the public? How do they explore a house you’re actually living in?”
“Right now, the house is open during the week from April to October by guided tour only,” Gideon answered.
“Is it strange to have people come in and out of your house like it’s a museum?” Jamie asked.
“Not anymore,” Gideon’s father said. “We retreat to the family wing and try not to get mistaken for ghosts. Besides, Gideon has big plans to market the house for films and other events, so we better get used to it.”
Gideon sat down in a large armchair beside us. “There’s been a surge of interest in these houses for period dramas like your beloved Downton Abbey. I want to see Badgley House get its due. And what could be a more beautiful setting for a wedding than our gardens? We have to make money for the property or we’ll be forced to sell.”
“It’s not as desperate as all that, yet, so let’s try to enjoy a lovely weekend with your guests without all this talk of finances, shall we?” his mother said. “Gideon, why don’t you show Georgica and Jamie to their rooms, and let’s plan to congregate back here at six for drinks and hors d’oeuvres. I invited Linney and a few other friends to join us for dinner.”
Gideon led us to the main staircase. I followed closely behind him while Jamie lingered at the foot of the stairs.
I walked back down to see what was holding him up.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I whispered.
“Waiting for Carson to ring the gong so we know to put on our formal dinner clothes?”
I hit Jamie softly on the behind. “Let’s go, Lord Malone.”
“After you, m’lady.”
Chapter Thirteen
Later that evening, Gideon knocked on my door to escort me to dinner. He was wearing a perfectly tailored three-piece suit I immediately recognized as Ermenegildo Zegna, one of Jamie’s favorite menswear designers. He’d slicked back his auburn hair just slightly, and for the first time since we met, was sporting a completely clean-shaven face. The rugged quality I’d come to associate with him had been replaced with a handsome and distinguished-looking man. I caught myself staring and quickly averted my attention to the bracelet I was struggling to close on my own. Gideon softly took hold of my wrist, fastened it, and gently kissed my hand.
I took a few steps closer to the full-length standing mirror in the corner of the room.
I smoothed out the one cocktail dress I’d packed. “I hope I look okay. You didn’t tell me it was going to be a formal dinner party.”
I’d accused Jamie of having a Downton-Abbey-induced freak out when he forced me to throw the dress into my suitcase. Now, I was extremely appreciative of his commitment to authenticity.
“You look great.” Gideon took a seat on the bed. “I’ve been spending so much time at Highclere, I haven’t been home in a while, let alone home with a girlfriend. I think my parents are just excited and decided to step things up a notch.”
I turned from the mirror to face him. “Girlfriend?”
He looked up at me. “Oh, you caught that one? I thought it might just slide through.”
I sat down next to him on the bed. “I like you a lot, Gideon. I think you know that. But we just…” my voice trailed off.
“We just met,” he said, finishing my thought. “I know. And I also know you were very much in love with somebody else for a very long time.”
“This isn’t about him.”
“Of course, it is. I’m the poor bloke who has to follow in the footsteps of Perry Gillman.”
I rubbed Gideon’s forearm. “If it’s any consolation, he wasn’t that guy when I met him. He was a summer camp counselor in the backwoods of Milbank, Pennsylvania.”
“We can take it slow, Gigi. As slow as you want to. Just think about it,” Gideon said.
“I promise I will,” I answered.
Jamie peeked his head into the room to check to see if we were ready to go down to dinner. He was wearing his Tom Ford blue velvet smoking jacket with black satin lapels and matching pants. He only wore that suit on very special occasions and looked every inch in character.
I picked my wrap off the bed. “If I don’t have the two most handsome dates tonight, I’ll be very surprised. You both look amazing.”
Gideon took my arm. “Shall we?”
We walked down the candlelit mahogany stairway to the library where some of Gideon’s parents’ guests had begun to congregate. Servers were walking around the room offering glasses of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.
I nudged Gideon in his side. “I thought you said you didn’t have an army of staff?”
He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “It’s called a catering service.”
“Ahh,” I said, picking up a flute.
We inched our way farther into the room, and Gideon introduced me to several of his parents’ friends. It was obvious they traveled in a very specific social circle that included some of England’s most prominent families. A few people recognized Jamie and me from the week’s headlines and wanted to hear more about our plans for Victoria Ellicott’s wedding gown. I quickly put down my champagne flute. In this crowd, it would be best if I stayed stone-cold sober and didn’t risk any more slip-ups. I stood up on my tiptoes to look for Jamie and spotted him talking to Linney, Gideon’s sister, and a few of her girlfriends. After another half hour or so of mingling, Gideon’s father announced we should start making our way to the dining room for dinner.
Gideon and I found our place cards and took seats in the middle of the table beside his parents. Jamie sat down to the right of me, and the rest of the guests milled around, finding their assigned places. Just as I noticed the two empty chairs at the far end of the table, Jamie kicked me hard in the shin.
I lifted my leg up to examine it. “Jesus, Jamie, I think the spikes on your Louboutin’s just punctured my skin. I might be bleeding.”
“Perry and Annabelle just walked in,” he whispered.
I threw my leg back under the table and looked up. Annabelle and Perry were making their way to their seats.
Gideon pulled me close to him. “Linney must’ve invited them. I had no idea they were coming.”
I pushed my hair behind my ears. “It’s fine.” Jamie started to fill up my wineglass, but I put my hand over it to stop him. “I don’t want to be drunk,” I said.
Annabelle removed her wrap to reveal a tasteful slinky black cocktail dress that hugged her body in all the right places.
“You sure about that?” Jamie murmured.
I looked up at her again and tapped the glass. “Fill ’er up.”
Perry took his seat at the end of the table and unfolded his napkin into his lap. He looked over and our eyes met. Gideon’s father stood up and clinked his glass, breaking our gaze. Everyone at the table turned to face the Earl of Harronsby.
“Looking around the table, I see some old familiar faces and some new familiar faces. Amelia and I are delighted to welcome all of you to Badgley Hall. We are especially pleased Mr. Perry Gillman was able to join us straight off the stage at Her Majesty’s Theater.”
The room turned to look at Perry, who shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his face flushing.
“How many Olivier Awards is Elizabeth up for?” Gideon’s father asked.
Perry cleared his throat. “Twelve, sir.”
The table politely applauded his answer.
Gideon waited for the clapping to die down, then stood up next to his father. “A few of the Badgley Hall docents have graciously volunteered to give tours of the house and gardens this evening after dinner, for anyone interested in learning more about the house’s rich history. I hope you take them up on their offer. For now, though, please enjoy dinner.”
Gideon and his father both sat back down, and the servers brought out the first course—shrimp cocktail in
antique frosted glass bowls.
I looked over at Perry, who was whispering something into Annabelle’s ear. His wavy, dark hair was pulled back, emphasizing his chiseled features and long lashes. Jamie caught me staring.
He prodded me. “Gigi, your shrimp cocktail’s gonna get…er…cold.”
I turned my attention to my plate, using the small cocktail fork to pick up a shrimp. My hands were trembling so hard the fork dropped from my hands, crashing into the glass bowl. The entire table turned at the clang. Gideon clasped my hand and guided it under the table, where he held it firmly until it stopped shaking. Soup came next and I knew better than to even attempt it.
An hour and a half and several courses later, dinner finally ended. The guests retreated to the drawing room for after-dinner drinks. When Gideon went to see about organizing the docents for the house tours, I pulled Jamie over to the quietest corner of the room.
“When everyone takes off to explore the house, I’m just gonna sneak off to my room.”
“You know Gideon’s doing all this for you. To impress you. The dinner. The tours. It’s all for you.”
Jamie’s words hung in the air as Annabelle came up behind him. I scanned the room for Perry and let out a breath when I saw him over by the fireplace, deep in conversation with Gideon’s father.
“Lovely to see you both. Linney just invited us this morning, or I would’ve mentioned it at the fitting yesterday,” Annabelle said.
“Perry was able to take the night off from Elizabeth?” Jamie asked.
“He’s been pulling back on his performing schedule a bit since he’ll be moving to Broadway in a few months.”
“That’s right, Gigi and I saw the marquee in Times Square just the other day. Didn’t we, Gigi?”
“We did,” I mumbled.
“It’s all very exciting,” she said, her eyes wide and shining with possibilities. “We’re going in a few weeks to look at some apartments for when we move.”
“We? You’re both moving to New York?” I asked.