15. Chapter Fifteen
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The day of Freddy’s birthday party started overcast, but by midday the sun appeared, and Mabel decided an outdoor party might be possible after all.
Mrs. Reynolds oversaw the food, and Mabel was more than happy to be ordered around along with Felicity, Cheryl, and half the ladies from the W.I.
who’d come to help and then stay for tea.
Colin caught up with her when she was jumping up and down in an attempt to string bunting between some of the trees.
“Let me do that.” With his superior height he easily looped the string over the end of a branch and handed the bundle back to her. “Unravel it until the next one.”
“Thank you. I thought I’d have to walk along the tables.”
“I wouldn’t recommend that.” He grinned down at her. He wore her favorite blue open-necked checked shirt, jeans, and leather shoes that were probably handmade. “Dancing on the tables is definitely not a feature of English birthday parties unless you’re three.”
“We could start a trend?” Mabel suggested.
“Knowing my luck, I’d break something,” Colin looked around. “Where’s the birthday boy?”
“Probably chilling and waiting to make his big entrance.” Mabel handed Colin the bunting to loop over the next tree.
“Sounds about right. What time do things kick off?”
Mabel consulted her phone for the schedule Mrs. Reynolds had sent her. “Three o’clock for the ceremonial lighting of the birthday cake candles, followed by a traditional high tea—whatever that means.”
“It means we have to stand up.” Colin fixed the last of the bunting onto a tree. “The entire time.”
“Yeah, right. Why did we have to borrow all these chairs from everyone, then?”
“Just to annoy them?”
“Your family are annoyed by everything.” Mabel put her phone away. “But I bet they’ll all be here to eat the cake.”
“I’m sure they will. Freddy’s invited half the village, plus the rugby team, the fire brigade, and the pony club, so I hope we’ve got enough food.”
Mabel thought about the current state of the kitchen. “I’m fairly sure we do. Mrs. Reynolds is very fond of Freddy.”
“He’s always been her favorite.” Colin gave her a hug. “I’d best be off. I promised I’d make sure Ted’s excavations are fully covered over and protected by a mile of fluorescent tape.”
“We certainly don’t want anyone falling in,” Mabel agreed. “Dale texted to say she’s arrived at the B&B and will head this way for the party.”
“Good. It will be nice for you to have your own friend here.” He paused. “You must be getting homesick after all this time away.”
“Is that a hint that you’d like me to leave?” Mabel asked.
“God, no.” His appalled expression almost made her smile. “On the contrary.” He kissed her fingers. “Once we’ve got this birthday nonsense out of the way I want to sit down with you and have a proper chat about our future together.”
“Together?”
His smile was full of tenderness. “Yes, if that’s what we both want.” He kissed her forehead. “Cheerio for now, then. Don’t work too hard.”
“I won’t.”
She was still walking around with a besotted smile on her face when Bartle came out of the kitchen and beckoned to her.
“Miss Mabel? Might I have a word?”
“Sure! What can I do for you?”
“His lordship is desirous of attending the celebrations.”
“How lovely!” Mabel said. “I’ll finally get to meet him.”
“He will require assistance to descend the stairs.”
“Then I’ll send some of those firefighters Freddy invited to help with that.”
“Thank you, miss.” Bartle bowed. “And I’ll make sure his lordship is looking his best.”
Half an hour later, Dale arrived, and Mabel was so thrilled to talk to an American again that she almost squealed with delight.
She loved the Brits, but sometimes trying to understand all their subtleties and passive-aggressive shit gave her a terrible headache.
Dale had been her friend since high school, and she’d never asked Mabel for money or a job, so Mabel had always felt comfortable with her.
“The village is a perfect place to film,” Dale said as Mabel handed her a beer. “I’ve already taken a thousand pictures and sent them to my boss. And just walking along the drive through this estate gave me at least another dozen possible sites.”
“To be honest, Dale, the Marchams need all the financial help they can get,” Mabel confessed. “So, any opportunities would be very welcome for them.”
“I’ll do my best.” Dale grinned at her. “Now, who’s this hot dude coming toward us?”
“That’s Colin.” Mabel tried not to blush. “My... friend.”
“He’s gorgeous,” Dale breathed. “And he owns all this?”
“No, that would be his father, but Colin is the heir,” Mabel said. “I had no idea of any of this when I met him in California. I just thought he was an architect—which he also is.”
Colin grinned as he approached them, his hand outstretched. He’d changed into a new pink striped shirt, khaki trousers, and his better pair of shoes. “You must be Dale. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh, my gawd, that accent!” Dale gushed, her hand pressed to her heart. “I can see why you fell for him, Mabel. He’s divine!”
“Mabel said you work for a film locations company,” Colin said after gently disengaging his fingers from Dale’s excited grip. “That must be pretty interesting.”
“It can be,” Dale agreed. “And I’m always on the lookout for new places to film. We can’t keep hanging around Bath annoying the residents all the time.” She reached in her pocket and took out her card. “Here are my details. I’ll definitely be in touch.”
“That’s great.” Colin grinned. “Happy to help.” He turned to Mabel. “Mrs. Reynolds said to tell you that she needs you at your post immediately.”
“She’s got me womaning the tea caddy, which isn’t my strength,” Mabel said. “But I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will.” Colin kissed the top of her head. “But you know what? Why don’t you let me do the manning so that you can spend some time with Dale?”
Dale sighed and looked at Mabel. “He’s a keeper!”
An hour later, the party was in full swing, and Freddy was having the time of his life.
The pony club were all in love with him, and the firefighters had proved extremely useful when the strings of lights had malfunctioned.
Mabel was sitting with Dale and Colin when Bartle came up beside her and coughed discreetly.
“His lordship would like a word, Miss Mabel, if you have a moment?”
“Yes, of course.” Mabel got up in something of a flutter. She’d seen Colin’s father descending the steps from the house with Bartle. He’d settled next to Freddy at the head of the family table, but she hadn’t had the nerve to go over and say hello.
“Would you like me to come with you?” Colin asked.
“No, it’s fine,” she reassured him. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll be polite.”
“I’m not worried about you.” Colin looked at her. “It’s him.”
Mabel followed Bartle across the well-cut grass to where the earl sat surveying the impromptu game of cricket that had started on the lower lawn. He wore a tweed suit, a crimson tie with what looked like cannons on it, and a wide-brimmed Panama hat to shade his face from the sun.
“Here’s Miss Mabel, my lord. She’s done wonders with those dogs.”
The earl waved Mabel to a seat. “Thank you, Bartle. Perhaps you might fetch us both a fresh cup of tea?”
Mabel didn’t have the heart to mention she preferred coffee as she concentrated her attention on the earl’s lined face. He had a thick moustache with twirled ends, which made her think of cartoon villains, and he bore no resemblance to Colin at all.
“Thank you for taking my dogs out.”
Mabel smiled. “It’s no trouble. I enjoy it.”
“I do hope they are well-behaved?”
“Always,” Mabel said firmly, even though it wasn’t quite true. In her opinion, all dogs were good dogs. If they occasionally refused to come back when they found something of interest in the woods, it was hardly their fault was it?
“Even Merry?”
She suddenly noticed the earl had the same piercing blue eyes as Colin and that his direct gaze was remarkably familiar.
“Well…”
“Meringue was my last wife’s dog,” the earl said. “She was horribly spoiled and something of a hooligan when I took her on, but I forgive her because no one likes to be abandoned, do they?”
“She didn’t take her dog when she left?” Mabel asked.
“Or her children,” the earl added and shook his head. “Both shockingly bad form.”
His accent and intonations were a lot like Lady Marcham’s and Mabel wondered about the relationship between mother and son. Like, were they as formal with each other as they were with everyone else?
“Colin said you’re going to help him clear out the countess’s suite of rooms.”
“Yes,” Mabel said as Bartle placed a mug of milky tea in front of her and a delicate cup and saucer of something fragrant and green in front of the earl. “I think it’s difficult for him to do it alone.”
“He’s always been a bit of a softie,” the earl said.
“Good for him.” Mabel raised her chin. “It’s nice to see a man who isn’t afraid of expressing how he feels.”
The earl raised an incredulous eyebrow. “That’s all very well, young lady, but a Marcham needs grit to manage this place.”
“And luckily for you Colin has that, too,” Mabel said. “He’s triumphed over adversity and become a stronger man. You must be very proud of him.”
“We’ll have to see about that,” the earl said. “But he’s done a good job so far.” He glanced over to where Colin was laughing with Freddy. “It’s good to see the boys getting along. After Eric died, things were quite difficult between them.”
“Tragedy often has that effect on families,” Mabel agreed. “Especially when people don’t know how to talk things out together.”
The earl looked horrified at the idea of having such conversations, which was very on brand.
“Eric was the best of sons.”
Mabel had nothing to say to that. From all she’d heard, Eric had been the complete opposite, but it wasn’t her place to correct the earl.
“He wasn’t good with money, but he was a true Marcham.”