Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
The next few days in the run-up to The Ramblings tour were a mad blur.
It was tiring, but throwing myself into assisting with final arrangements meant that I could temporarily forget about Evan being Fox.
Whenever my emotions crept up on me, promising to catch me off guard, I’d concentrate on helping Cayla learn her lines and practice mine again, or I’d involve myself in a final publicity push.
But even then, I’d keep thinking about the two of us in bed together, the whole situation and what I thought had been growing between us, which all now felt like a dream. It was as though I’d been duped.
Whenever I could, I found excuses to vanish up to my room or to leave The Ramblings for some solace.
Thankfully, Evan had been much busier with a couple of new feature pitches and wasn’t around anywhere near as much, which was a relief. I wasn’t sure if that was deliberate or not, but it was for the best.
Dane, meanwhile, had made a few more attempts to get me to open up about what had happened between his brother and me, but I’d brushed him off.
‘He’s doing the same to me,’ said Dane. ‘I asked him what the score was between you two, but he told me it was none of my business and to butt out.’
I pinned on a strangulated smile. ‘Don’t waste your time. I’m not.’
The only good news was that sales of the tour tickets had been flying. Not only were intrigued locals snapping them up out of curiosity, but fascinated tourists were, too.
Dane had volunteered to deal with the online ticketing, as well as the social media side of things.
He’d set up impressive looking accounts on Facebook, Instagram, X and Tik-Tok, giving background details of The Ramblings history, including stunning photographs he’d taken of the estate, and then included a post I’d helped him write, giving an outline about Florence and her life.
Alison and Bennett had looked stunned when Dane had shown them what he’d been working on. ‘Well, don’t look so surprised,’ he’d told their shocked expressions. ‘This place is part of my life, too. It shouldn’t just be up to you two to try and improve its future.’
Dane had offered me a conspiratorial smile.
Later that day, I’d been in the study, chatting to Alison about the costumes and arrangements for final fittings ahead of the big day, when Evan had strolled in.
As soon as he saw me standing there, his expression changed.
I muttered to Alison that I’d forgotten to ring the local newspaper about coverage on the day and dashed out. It would be a relief when I could pack up and leave here with Grandpa.
Still, the momentum for the tour was rolling. We’d had a mention on the regional BBC Scottish News, Radio Scotland’s Morning Show and the local radio station were being very supportive.
Not to be outdone, Grandpa had been delivering glossy posters designed by Dane to the local businesses to put in their shop windows, ably assisted by Louise.
The Ramblings was a cacophony of busy chatter, clattering laptop keys and ringing mobiles.
The older couple who were portraying Bennett’s late great-grandparents, Mollie and Aubrey Fisher from the Forrest Bank Players, had been regular visitors, taking their roles very seriously and method acting for all they were worth.
They would swan in, reciting their lines with Josie and drifting around the stately home like it had been theirs all along. They were driving Josie demented!
As for The Ramblings, she just remained her usual, glorious, majestic self.
* * *
Another costume fitting was underway in the drawing room, and I stood there while Mindy ensured the pinned waist of my button-up, high-collared gown was fitting properly.
It was milk chocolate brown with a cameo brooch at the nape of my neck and fluttered down to the floor.
Although it was very officious, it had an air of class about it which I loved.
I drew in a steadying breath and clasped one hand over my tummy.
Mindy looked up at me as she swooped this way and that, examining the dress from all angles. ‘You’ve lost a little bit of weight, young lady. Please don’t lose any more.’
It hadn’t been intentional. It was just that, since finding out about Evan, I’d hardly been able to eat a thing.
‘Still.’ Maddie broke into an appreciative smile and stood back in her cropped jeans and capped sleeve T-shirt. Her sunglasses were still propped on top of her silver bobbed hair. ‘You’re the prettiest piano teacher I’ve ever seen. Most of them at that time were right hatchet-faced madams.’
I started to laugh, smoothing down the linen material of my dress.
Sensing someone’s gaze, I stopped adjusting the cameo brooch at the base of my throat and looked up.
There was no one there.
* * *
I shook out the folds of my dress and strode over the tiled floor of the Great Hall in my lace-up ankle boots. It was as though I’d stepped back in time, and that I was indeed a strict but fair teacher, waiting for her students to arrive.
But instead of Edwardian children, I could see through the glass in the doors a long line of buzzing locals and tourists snaking away from The Ramblings front entrance, down the heavy stone steps and along the gravelled drive.
My stomach overflowed with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. This had to be a success.
The hem of my dress hissed across the floor as I moved.
Mindy, who’d trained as a hairdresser before becoming a dressmaker, had coiffed my hair into a classic Edwardian style. She’d put it into a half ponytail before pinning it up and backcombing it into a crown effect.
For Cayla, she’d combed her long, straight, strawberry blonde hair too before plaiting it into a French braid and securing it with a piece of cream satin ribbon.
As if on cue, Cayla clicked up behind me.
She was decked out as Florence in a modest, fluted grey cotton dress down to the floor, with a starched white apron over the top of it.
Even though the outfit was plain, she looked lovely; young and fresh-faced, with her shiny hair streaming down one side in its ribboned braid like a waterfall.
‘Look at you,’ I marvelled at her. ‘How can you make such a plain dress look so wonderful?’
She blushed to the roots of her hair. ‘Do I look stupid?’
‘Of course you don’t. This is what women wore then, and as you’re playing Florence, you need to look the part.’
She laced and unlaced her fingers in front of her as the chatter from the public outside grew in volume. Cayla shot them a worried look. ‘What if I forget my lines, Daisy? What if I freeze?’
I moved towards her and gave her a supportive hug. ‘Then we’ll help one another.’
She hugged me back. ‘Thanks for being here for me.’
‘I should be the one thanking you.’
She snorted. ‘How do you work that one out?’
‘I might have a bit more acting experience than you, but that Fox review…’ My mind skittered to Evan and I blinked.
‘It really drained my confidence, and I almost thought I’d never want to act again.
’ I flapped a hand. ‘Ok, so this is hardly Broadway, but I’m getting back in the saddle, albeit slowly. ’
Cayla glanced again towards The Ramblings main entrance doors, which were closed. Flashes of expectant faces could be seen through the glass.
She nodded at my dress. ‘You really suit that colour. It looks great with your hair.’ She paused. ‘Where’s Evan?’
I raised my chin. ‘I’ve no idea. Why?’
‘Oh, it’s just I thought there might be something going on between you two.’
I fixed my attention on one of the urns of dry reeds in the corner of the hall. ‘No. Not at all. What makes you say that?’
‘Just a hunch,’ she remarked lightly. ‘Whenever I saw you two together, there was always this atmosphere. Like in a good, romantic way.’
Sadness and disappointment nipped at me, but I tried to disguise it.
‘You’ve got a great imagination.’
Cayla offered me a gimlet, mature eye despite her teenage years. ‘I didn’t imagine any of it. You and Evan couldn’t keep your eyes off one another.’
‘You’ve been reading too many Ali Hazelwood novels.’
I steered the conversation away from Evan and towards how Alison and Bennett had transformed The Ramblings for the tour.
Any hint of modern-day furniture or fittings had been stowed away, and in its place were reflections of the 1900s; walnut furniture and quilted chairs had been dotted around the hallway space.
‘All set then?’ grinned Grandpa, emerging from the direction of the kitchen and looking dapper in his best brown, checked suit.
‘No,’ half-joked Cayla, planting one nervous hand on her stomach.
‘You’ll be fine,’ assured Grandpa. ‘You’ve got my wonderful granddaughter here to keep you right.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Grandpa, Cayla doesn’t need any help from me. She’s got Florence nailed.’
He sighed in appreciation. ‘Och, I’m sure she has. And you both look the part.’
The study door creaked open, and Alison, Bennett and Louise emerged next.
They’d opted to wear their smart civvies, much to Bennett’s relief.
Alison was all floaty in a rose-printed dress, and Bennett adjusted his shirt collar.
He was wearing a dark suit with a lemon shirt and charcoal tie, while Louise looked very summery in an ankle-length dress studded with poppies.
‘Well, well, well. Doesn’t everyone scrub up well, or what?’
Dane was strolling towards us. He’d pulled his hair back into a low ponytail and was wearing a sharp suit of the finest pinstripe with an ice blue shirt and a silver, stripey tie.
I gawped in surprise while Cayla reddened and stared down at the tiled floor.
Outside, there was the impatient shuffling of feet from the tour attendees, who were eager to get inside.
‘We’re almost ready to open those doors,’ gushed Alison, an excited wobble in her voice. ‘We’re just waiting for Mindy to put the finishing touches to Mollie and Aubrey’s hair, and for Josie to do a final run-through with them.’