Chapter 27
B y the time Scarlett made it to the main house, its residents were already filling the corridors and rooms with noise levels she was fast becoming used to.
Mrs Wilson’s new recruits, although looking dapper, both appeared flushed as they left the dining room.
“Is everything alright? Do you need help with anything?” Scarlett caught James’s eye.
He shook his head and smiled. “No, thank you– just the usual level of carnage going on. My brother foolishly put an egg in front of the maid of honour.” He laughed at Scarlett’s look of confusion.
“She has a chicken phobia.” A wide grin spread across his face as he shrugged and continued to the kitchen with his hands full of plates.
Scarlett shook her head– their guests really were something.
Silently wishing James and Mark good luck, she left before someone else spotted her. She wanted to be productive this morning, starting with the orangery, a huge sunroom where the ceremony was to take place.
Ana?se was leaving most of the preparations, such as the flowers, for Scarlett to organise, with only one stipulation: “Absolutely no pinecones! Authentic is all well and good, but it’s my wedding, not a craft fair, okay?
” Ana?se had mentioned a few days ago, looking intently at Scarlett, who was doing her best to keep a straight face.
No trips to Hobbycraft for me then.
“Message received. No pinecone will make it over the threshold,” Scarlet had reassured her.
“Wonderful, such a relief to have staff who actually listen and take on board what I say. At home, Millie just rolls her eyes these days and does what she damn well pleases. Talks about changing my diapers, as if that means she can’t take any direction from me.
” She rolled her own eyes in dismay. “And they say I’m the brat in the house. ”
Scarlett couldn’t think of a response that wouldn’t comprise at least a slight element of sarcasm, so she chose a comforting smile and nod instead.
“I like your idea of the burgundy and white winter roses, though, with the pearl and crystal accents– I want them to be real, mind you. People will notice. The snow berries on the centrepieces sound nice too– and the ivy and white roses mixed through and draped over the arches… and what were the other flowers?”
“Hellebores, they’re known as Christmas roses, and the camellias will give a soft romantic winter feel. They’re actually grown here on the estate.”
“Fantastic, yes, you seem to have it all under control then. Just make sure it all screams winter luxury and, like you said, romance. Lots of lights. And the orangery, it’s still quite crowded with furniture?”
“We’ll be making a start on that soon. First, we’re deep cleaning and airing it out fully, then the furniture will be moved out before the weekend so we can get everything ready.
The seating and covers you chose will arrive a couple of weeks ahead of the day to make sure you’re happy and to give us time to set it all out just how you want. ”
“Well, nothing more to be done for me then. We’re off to some spa today. It’s been an exhausting week, so it’s much needed.” Ana?se smiled at Scarlett. “We’re not all cut out to be so… active and lively.”
Scarlett wasn’t entirely sure if that was meant as a compliment or an insult, or merely a point of fact, so she’d simply disregarded it altogether. Really, what was even the point? They were from such different worlds, the communicational void between them was the least of her concerns.
She was there to do a job, which she wanted to do well, and her client’s lack of social or communication skills weren’t remotely her problem.
Scarlett realised it probably wasn’t due to an actual lack of kindness.
She’d been around women like Ana?se before, and there was rarely malice in any of their behaviour; simply put, sometimes status and wealth stood people so far apart, they may as well be trying to reach each other via the moon.
Now, taking out her notepad, Scarlett checked through her to-do list. She’d provide Edward with action points and the associated schedule later, so he could ensure there were enough hands on deck to move the heavy furniture the next day.
That meant the deep clean could be done, and she could then make a start on the arrangement of the room and the decorations.
June and Andrzej had been a godsend and were incredibly helpful in planning the flower and plant arrangements; and Ana?se and Leonard were delighted with the sketches Scarlett provided for both the orangery and the outside marquee.
Scarlett was pleased. She had done nothing like this before, especially on this scale, but the trust and autonomy she received made her feel good about herself.
The sky felt limitless; she was so much more than someone’s wife and the family’s general dogsbody, where her efforts had never been recognised or valued.
But at Haddon House, she was at least her own person and people respected what she was capable of.
The sound of someone clearing their throat brought her back into the room and she turned to find a rather attractive and polished brunette standing in the doorway.
“Hi.” Scarlett smiled politely. “Can I help you?”
The brunette smiled a perfect white-toothed smile, delicately tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“No, thank you– it’s just been a while since I’ve been in here, so I thought I’d take a quick look.
” Her accent was Scottish, but softer and more subtle than the locals she was used to hearing.
Scarlett cocked her head slightly to the side. “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met?”
“Briege, close family friend– and you are?”
“I’m Scarlett. Nice to meet you.” Scarlett moved closer and held out her hand, which Briege hesitantly took, her shake limp and reluctant. “I’m helping organise the wedding.”
Briege nodded slowly. “I see– one of the women living in the stables.” She half smiled, looking away to gaze around the room.
“I considered marrying in here, but I wanted a more intimate beach wedding with Edward. Less work, but also less stuffy, you know? This is all very novel and Bronte-esque for the Americans, but not really my style.”
She glanced at Scarlett as though to check she was paying attention.
Scarlett took an instant dislike to the woman.
Briege continued, “Growing up on these types of estates takes the novelty away, really. No doubt we’ll revisit our plans at some point, though.
Talking of which, I’ll go announce myself properly.
Can’t keep the laird waiting, can I?” She winked at Scarlett and left, her shiny dark hair glistening under the lights Scarlett had just turned on to check all the bulbs were working.
She watched Briege turn and leave, noticing how her tight pencil skirt and heels accentuated her slim hips and taut calves.
Scarlett disliked her even more. Not just because of the endless legs and perfect…
well, everything! No, it was because she had the malicious vibe that most of the girls at her secondary school had possessed– pointless nastiness that was usually overlooked because of their good looks, charm, and academic or sporty talents.
Scarlett, in contrast, was short, awkward, and lacked the coordination skills that most sports required, being more of an endearing Shetland pony than an impressive gazelle.
And what was she talking about marrying Edward?
He’d never mentioned how serious their relationship had been, let alone the minor fact he was meeting her today.
A sinking feeling settled in her stomach.
Was he being genuine with her? Or was that entire speech about worrying what people might think of him being with the help because of Leonard a complete load of bollocks?
Were they in fact as bad and entitled as each other?
Maybe she was just a game or convenient stop gap until the main event could strut back in, as if she’d just returned from a photo shoot in Milan.
Maybe this was what Leonard knew and why he was always smirking at her.
Maybe this was what all marriages and relationships were like– disloyal, dishonest, and full of disappointment. She was hardly the expert.
Scarlett had only had one boyfriend before Jason, an awkward and standoffish guy in her Colonial Literature module at uni.
Geoffrey had been and probably still was a very nice guy, but despite being on the same English Lit course, they shared nothing in common and the sex had been beyond terrible.
Potentially it could’ve been better if he’d been able to recognise the fact that it took more than some brief penetration to help a woman reach orgasm.
Although, it probably had more to do with the fact that much later, she’d discovered he was now happily married to an Irish man called Lawrence. Scarlett cringed at the memory. No, she was definitely not qualified as a relationship expert by any stretch of the imagination.
But perhaps Jason wasn’t the anomaly. Maybe it was the norm. Christ, was Tara right about her, after all? Did she just not know how to keep a man happy? Was this whole thing with Edward some ridiculous fantasy, and he was just slumming it until his proper girlfriend came back?
Oh my God! I’m officially a fluffer girlfriend!
She had read about it in The Guardian a few months previously and thought how dreadful that must be, to invest in someone emotionally and in every other way, knowing they weren’t ready yet, so waiting patiently, only for them to leave and fully commit to someone else.
Scarlett stared at the empty doorway. Is that what Briege was?
The proper girlfriend? If she was, could Scarlett still stay?
Should she reconsider Jason’s offer? Was this really it?
Should she just go home? The thoughts and doubts were running wild in her head, and she had to close her eyes, taking a few deep breaths.
Eventually, she shook her head.
Don’t be so bloody paranoid, woman!
Until she knew the complete story, she wouldn’t be jumping to conclusions. She took another deep breath in and out, refocusing on her to-do list. But the sick feeling in her stomach remained.