The Earl of London

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The Earl of London Page 8

by Louise Bay


  “Was it?”

  “As much as I might have made the effort to do it on purpose, I can promise you that it was a coincidence.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me? I’d never have kissed you had I known.”

  A dull ache gnawed at my stomach as she confessed her regret. “It didn’t come up. Manor House Club will be a phenomenal thing. It’s going to attract all the best people, have them experience a beautiful place, provide employment in the area, customers for the shops in the village. Why would you be devastated?”

  She folded her arms as she stared straight ahead. “It will completely ruin village life as we know it. Think of all the pollution from the visitors, all those trees you’ll have to chop down, plus all the building works that will make our lives a misery for years. Not to mention the way the community will be watered down with tourists who think they’re better than the rest of us.” She blew out a breath as if she was trying to stop herself from crying. “We’ve seen this before. We’ve had outsiders come in and tell us how they will improve things, only for the village to suffer. The Thompsons’ renovations lasted three years. And then they just flipped the house—it was just an investment for them. Woolton is special.”

  “I can promise you that the works won’t take three years. I want the place open and making money within twelve months.” I’d expected some local opposition to my plans. There were people against change whenever you tried to make improvements—I came across it all the time in business. I’d move into a new company, start asking questions about their processes and come across the phrase, “because that’s how we do it” too often for me to even be surprised anymore. Most people’s automatic reaction to change was to assume it was bad rather than to embrace the opportunity it brought.

  “You see? It’s just about money for you. You don’t care about the impact you’ll have on the rest of us. You won’t get away with it—there’s no way those plans will get through the Parish Council.”

  “You want to ban any building works in the village? What about when Woolton Hall needs a new roof or—”

  “Don’t twist my words. That’s not what I’m saying, I just want to be respectful of our way of life, of our history.”

  It was my job to sell people on a brighter future and that was what I’d planned to do with Manor House Club. I was pretty sure I could convince the Parish Council that it would be a great thing for Woolton. “Well, I guess we’ll see. Some people have broader minds than you might imagine,” I replied.

  “What does that mean?” she asked, shifting next to me so she could look at me. “Are you planning to try and bribe people?”

  I chuckled. “Are you drunk? Of course I’m not going to bribe anyone.” I might have a reputation for doing whatever it took to succeed, but I never broke the law, let alone did anything my grandmother would be ashamed of me for.

  She sighed and sat back in her seat. “That’s not what it sounded like to me. You seem too sure to be leaving anything to chance.”

  “I think that says more about your Parish Council members than it does about me. Do they take bribes often?”

  “How dare you!” she snapped. “The Parish Council would never succumb to such dirty tricks.”

  “Then why would you assume I’d been successful in bribing them?”

  “What? Don’t twist my words again.”

  “I’m not. I’m following their logical conclusion.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Which I interpret as ‘You’re quite correct, Logan. I accept that our kiss had nothing to do with your plans for Manor House Club and that you’re not committing criminal offenses by bribing public officials’.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Darcy seemed clever and running the Woolton estate took a great deal of skill, but this girl was acting as if she’d lost her mind.

  “Can’t you drop it?” Her tone lowered.

  “Drop what?”

  “Your plans. They would ruin everything I worked so hard for.”

  I didn’t see how Manor House Club would ruin anything for the Woolton estate, and it would breathe fresh life into the village, bring opportunities to those who weren’t as lucky as Darcy. “It’s important to me, Darcy. Try to look at all the positive things it will bring to the village.” As much as I liked and respected her, and as much as I’d enjoyed kissing her, I wasn’t about to abandon Manor House Club just because she wanted to remain in a time warp.

  “Is that a no?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” I replied. “Once I’m committed to something, I follow through. It’s how I’m built.”

  “Then game fucking on,” she said lightly, her tone not matching her words at all.

  I wanted to ask what she meant, but the helicopter began to descend and I needed to focus on my meeting rather than whatever trouble Darcy might be planning to stir up.

  “I’m sure we can work together to make it a great opportunity for the village.”

  “How am I getting back to Woolton?” she asked, ignoring my attempt to move forward on a positive note.

  “The helicopter will take you back.”

  “You see? You don’t even realize what a scourge on the village you helicoptering in and out is. It’s deafening. It scares the horses, tears the leaves from the trees. We all hate it.”

  No one had said anything to me. “You can’t make time stand still. Why do you want to put obstacles in the way of progress, Darcy?” What made her want to live in the past?

  She didn’t respond, didn’t look at me. She just stared ahead, her eyebrows pinched together in a determined scowl.

  “Let me take you through the plans next weekend,” I said as we landed. “I can show you how beautiful it’s going to be. How it will be in keeping with the surrounding areas. You’re assuming the worst, but when you have all the facts, you might find you like it.”

  I sighed when she didn’t respond. It was like dealing with a toddler that I couldn’t put on a naughty step.

  “I have to go,” I said as the door opened. “I’ll be back in Woolton on Friday. Let’s talk then.”

  I got no response, so I left the helicopter and headed toward the entrance to my building. Darcy might be distracting, beautiful and refreshingly open, but she was also infuriating as hell. She had my attention completely diverted from what I should be thinking about and instead wondering what “game on” meant, and whether she really did regret kissing me.

  What was the matter with me? I needed to get a grip. Kick arse on my call and maybe reward myself this evening by blowing off steam with an uncomplicated fuck.

  Eleven

  Darcy

  “It’s official, we’re at war,” I said as I opened the door to Aurora. I’d asked her to come over early before the Parish Council members arrived. I was on a charm offensive that would outdo Logan’s.

  “With the Parish Council?”

  “No, of course not. With Logan Steele.”

  “War? I’m not sure we should be at war with any of the villagers.”

  I sighed as I spun around. “He’s not a villager,” I replied. “Not really. He’s been here five minutes and it shows.” I led her into the glass-roofed sunroom which was all set out, ready for tea.

  “This looks nice,” she said.

  “Yes. W.I. jam, of course. We’ve tried to use things from the farm shop. I hope it’s part of the subliminal message.” We took our seats on two of the upholstered cream chairs that faced the door, therefore giving the Parish Council members the view of the gardens.

  “And you’re sure we should be doing this?” Aurora asked. “You don’t think we’re meddling?”

  How could she have any doubt? As soon as I’d returned from my kidnapping, I’d called around the members of the Parish Council and invited them over for tea. Although I was reasonably confident that they would reject Logan’s plans, I wanted to be sure. So at tea, I’d ensure they were all planning to vote against the plans and then give them the Westbury’s full su
pport of their decision. The Westbury name still meant something around here, but Logan Steele was wealthy and influential in his field and I didn’t want the Parish Council intimidated.

  “Of course, I’m sure. We want the Council to know they have our support. And I want to ensure they’ve thought of every way Logan’s plans could be disastrous.”

  “I’m surprised you want to go against Logan.”

  “This isn’t me against him, it’s us trying to maintain our beautiful village.”

  “I just thought that, you know, since you kissed him and everything. Going to war with him doesn’t seem the natural first step in a relationship.”

  “Please don’t remind me.” I guffawed. “And a relationship? That was never going to happen.” I’d considered having sex with him, but dating? He wasn’t at all husband material as far as I was concerned. “Anyway, he was probably just trying to get me on side so when he announced the plans I wouldn’t object.”

  “You think he deliberately engineered bumping into you at the restaurant?”

  “Don’t you start. He denied it vehemently, of course.”

  “Well, to be fair, I don’t think he tricked you into kissing him.”

  Aurora was right. I didn’t really think Logan engineered our run-in. I was just disappointed with the way things had turned out. I’d enjoyed his company at dinner and his kiss even more. I was annoyed at myself for thinking that maybe there might be something more. Something after the kiss. How could I have let myself like him?

  “Probably not,” I conceded.

  The butler, Lane, interrupted us. “Miss Darcy, Mr. Dawson and Mrs. Beadle,” he announced and I bounced to my feet to greet my guests with a double kiss. I’d known both of them since I was a child and they’d always been kind to me. Despite my ulterior motive in inviting them over—which they were bound to have guessed—it was genuinely good to see them.

  “We were just saying that we haven’t been to Woolton Hall since the Duke died. Are you finding it terribly lonely?” Mrs. Beadle asked.

  It was as if an icy breeze curled around my heart at the mention of my grandfather. I still missed him terribly. “I still feel his loss every day. But this year, the summer party will be back. The last couple of years were just too much, and I know he would have scolded me for letting the tradition lapse, so I’ll have to make it up to him this year and hold the best party that Woolton has ever seen.” The Woolton Hall Summer Ball had been the party where he’d met my grandmother, the place where I’d first seen my brother in love. And I knew he’d have been disappointed that we’d skipped it to tend to our grief. I wanted to make it up to him.

  “I’m so pleased to hear that,” Mr. Dawson said. “You know how much everyone enjoys it.”

  “As do I. And it’s so important to keep these traditions alive. It’s what we all try and do, after all. What kind of tea would everyone like?” I asked as Mrs. MacBee entered the room, bringing with her the other three council members, Mr. Newton, Miss Price and Mr. Adams.

  With tea ordered and everyone in their seats, I decided to take the bull by the horns. “Speaking of keeping up traditions, I was surprised to see the plans that the new owner of Badsley House had submitted,” I said.

  “They’re certainly ambitious,” Mr. Adams said.

  I held his gaze, willing him to add to what he’d said. I wanted to know whether or not he thought ambitious was good or bad, but before he could say anything more, Miss Price interrupted. “I can’t think of anything worse,” she said. “All those awful city types stamping through our little slice of heaven.”

  My heart swelled. I knew Susan would understand. We were on the fundraising committee for the local mobile library and we both cared passionately about the community.

  “I think it would be a real shame to turn Woolton into a huge tourist town,” I said, leaning forward to move the vase of peonies, ready for the tea that Mrs. MacBee would bring through, and trying to seem relaxed, as if the plans for Manor House Club had just come up in casual conversation.

  “But at the same time.” Mr. Newton tapped his finger against his leg. “Logan makes a good point about providing local employment for the village.”

  I turned to Susan to see if she’d fight our corner, but Mrs. Beadle spoke up. “Yes, there will be construction jobs, but they’re not likely to be local. So, long-term, he means a few bar and restaurant staff. I’d prefer to see another restaurant opened in the village than some exclusive club that won’t be open to villagers unless we pay thousands of pounds of membership fees.”

  “That’s an excellent point,” I replied and glanced at Aurora, wondering why she hadn’t joined in yet.

  “I don’t like the exclusive nature of it either,” Mr. Dawson said. “It will be a huge part of the village, but exclude local people. That doesn’t sit right with me.”

  I shook my head. “City people.” I sighed.

  “Well, maybe we can talk to him, get him to give free membership to residents of the village,” Mr. Newton said.

  “Do you think he’d do that? I’m not sure how exclusive it would be if he started handing out memberships to us villagers.” I shrugged.

  Mrs. MacBee brought in the tea and set it down. I set about pouring drinks for everyone while I listened to everyone’s opinion. I wanted to know how hard I was going to have to work to get Logan’s plans defeated.

  “You know the thing I’m worried about?” I said in a lull in the conversation. “The drinking and what that does to people. Remember the Foleys?”

  “I don’t think it would be like that. That was a specific issue with that couple. And remember, Mrs. Steele grew up in this village. She doesn’t want it ruined any more than we do.” Mr. Adams smiled as I handed him his tea.

  They had to understand that Mrs. Steele probably didn’t have any control over Logan’s plans. Surely she would have already persuaded him to change his mind if she could have.

  “That’s a good point,” Miss Price murmured. “My mother knew her when she lived here after her husband died. She seems like a very nice woman. One of us.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t disagree with her. Partly because it was true, and also because as much as I might want to win this battle with Logan, I didn’t want to do it by trying to tarnish his grandmother in any way.

  “And I suppose I’m a little concerned that Woolton will suffer the same fate as Kingsley. Once the floodgates are open, there’s no going back.”

  “That’s exactly what I said.” Susan took a sip of her tea. “It’s the beginning of a slippery slope.”

  Over the course of the conversation, the pile of sandwiches in front of us was replenished three times. It was pretty clear the Parish Council was split. Mr. Newton and Barry Adams were the most open to it. And Susan and Mrs. Beadle were set against it. Mr. Dawson seemed to change his mind, depending on the last thing that was said. At least now I knew where I stood and who I had to persuade.

  Logan Steele might have a brilliant business brain, but he shouldn’t have underestimated me. He should have taken more time to understand the importance of tradition and connections in a village like Woolton.

  Twelve

  Logan

  I hadn’t expected to crave the countryside. I was looking forward to seeing my grandmother this weekend, but more than that, I wanted to be surrounded by trees, grass and blue skies rather than brick, glass and tarmac. The air was cleaner, the pace slower—colors seemed brighter, the smiles more genuine.

  The week in London had taken its toll, and by Friday afternoon I couldn’t wait to get back to Badsley House. The helicopter landed in the gardens and the stress of the day began to slip away. It was also nice to get distance from my business. I left Badsley more focused, and found I looked at problems with a fresh perspective when I returned to work.

  I waved at my grandmother, who was sitting out on the terrace. It was good to see her so happy here. After Darcy’s visit, she’d had a number of visitors drop by and she seemed to be enjoying
being back home.

  Dipping my head, I headed over to the terrace from the helicopter, I saw my grandmother had a visitor. But it wasn’t Darcy Westbury this time.

  “Hello, darling, come and join Patricia and me for some tea,” my grandmother said as I approached, kissed her on the cheek, then shook hands with our visitor, a slight woman who I’d estimate was in her early sixties.

  “Delighted to meet you, Patricia,” I said.

  “And you. I’ve heard so much about you, so it’s nice to be able to put a face to a name.”

  “Patricia’s come to ask us a favor,” my grandmother said.

  “Really?” I asked. “What can we do?” I asked, pulling up a chair.

  “Well, I’m chair of the local fundraising committee for our mobile library, and I was hoping for your support.”

  “Of course, how can I help?” I crossed one leg over the other, letting the sun soak into my face, the week’s strain chased away by the warmth.

  “We have a fundraising target of fifteen thousand pounds this year. Those funds go toward maintenance of the truck that transports the books and payment of the driver.”

  “I’m happy to donate. I can let you have a check. But what can I do that’s more practical? I have a contact at one of the big publishers. I can see if they have any books that might add to your stock.”

  Patricia set her teacup down. “Well, that would be simply wonderful. Our readers tend to enjoy fiction, especially cozy mysteries, but anything would be a bonus. Thank you. Of course, we’d love to have you on our committee if you can spare the time.”

  The cogs in my brain started whirring. Since I’d last seen Darcy, her words “game on” had echoed in my brain. There was little doubt that she didn’t like the plans I had for Manor House Club, and although I’d already decided to try to talk her through what I hoped to achieve, I wasn’t convinced I’d have her on side by the end of it. I expected opposition and knowing who my opponents were and why they took the position they did helped me form an offense and defense. I needed to get to know some of the Woolton villagers better. But I didn’t have the time and I didn’t make commitments that I wasn’t sure I could fulfill.

 

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