Chapter Fourteen
Ditty almost buzzed with excitement. ‘Yes, please, carry it on through—no, those need to go to the kitchen, not the card room!’
It was absolute pandemonium and she was discovering, rather to her surprise, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
‘What are your orders, Admiral?’ asked Brian, saluting before her.
Ditty giggled. ‘You don’t have to salute, Brian.’
‘Wouldn’t dare not give the respect deserved by my superior officer,’ said Brian, though he winked as he spoke. ‘Where do you want me?’
As it happened, Ditty could use an additional hand unpacking in the card room, so she sent him on his way.
As she stood in the Lodge’s hall, everyone bustling, laughter and chatter filling the old place, Ditty realised three things she had never expected.
Firstly, she liked ordering people about.
Well, she probably should have known that. She ordered people about as a proposal planner, but most of the time it was a huge effort to get her clients to do what she wanted, and she was constantly juggling the stress of the musicians, artists, restaurants, locations…
But this? This was easy. Every single resident had loved her idea and immediately asked how they could help. That was why Mavis was organising the kitchen and Avril the craft room, all getting ready for the big day.
‘Over here, was it?’ asked Jim, holding a huge wooden love heart.
‘Oh, Jim, that is beautiful!’ Ditty sighed.
It was magnificent. Woven with willow, the heart was about two feet wide and looked stunning.
‘In the drawing room, please,’ she called after him.
The second thing she’d realised was that it was pleasant to organise something that wasn’t about matrimony.
Not that this wasn’t about love. Ditty had never felt more love in one place. When she had told Henry he had to tell the people at the Lodge the truth, she had never seen him look more horrified. But he had conceded that she was right.
For a horrible moment when he had made the announcement, Ditty had thought she had been wrong to think that the residents would rally around him. There had been a mutinous silence. But then—
What can we do to help? Mavis and Avril had asked together.
Yes, there was love in this place. The Lodge absolutely buzzed with it, everyone wanting to play their part, to help their doctor. Their duke. Their friend.
Ditty beamed as she watched a pair of elderly gentlemen slowly carry through bunting. It might not be romantic love driving this place, but it was most definitely love.
And the third, and perhaps this was the most important revelation—
‘There you are,’ said Henry, grinning as he carried a heavy box. ‘Who would have thought, eh?’
Ditty grinned. ‘I did.’
It had all seemed so simple when she started to think about the practicalities.
So Henry had this huge Lodge and manor house elsewhere on the estate, and couldn’t pay for the upkeep.
Fine. Every town needed somewhere to gather for balls, celebrations, splendid occasions, and Brexley itself was crying out for a large location for its Valentine’s Day festivities.
It all felt so obvious when Ditty had tried to explain it to Henry.
‘Host a ball—at the Lodge?’
‘Not a ball—well, kind of a ball,’ Ditty had admitted. ‘A Valentine’s Day–themed ball, for the whole town.’
She had seen the panic in Henry’s eyes. ‘But the place is falling apart!’
‘We don’t have to use the wing which is more dilapidated,’ she had said hastily, trying to reassure him. ‘The hall, the drawing room, the craft room, the card room—that is more than enough space.’
Henry had not been easily convinced. ‘Why on earth would anyone from the town want to come up to the Lodge—and before Valentine’s Day? Everyone will be getting ready for the visitors.’
But Ditty had already thought of that.
‘Ditty, we’re almost done,’ said Avril smartly.
Both she and Henry turned to her.
‘You—you are?’ Ditty said in surprise.
She had expected, in truth, for that part of organising the ball to take forever.
Avril beamed. ‘Never underestimate a woman over the age of sixty, my dear. Yes, all the crafts are done.’
Henry looked between her and Ditty. ‘You’re really going to make this work, aren’t you?’
Ditty glowed. It was foolish of course, to be so delighted she had impressed him; but if she were truly honest with herself, a huge part of her plan was designed to do just that.
Impressing Henry felt important, kisses or no kisses.
Even if she was spending today getting entirely distracted from the proposal she should be planning…
‘I’ll put them all together on the table Jim’s set up in the craft room,’ said Avril confidently, evidently not needing to be instructed on the subject. ‘Come on, ladies.’
Ditty watched with an amused smile as Avril bustled forward, a trail of at least eight women, some holding knitting needles, some holding darning mushrooms, following her.
‘Walk with me,’ murmured Henry in Ditty’s ear.
She shivered at the sudden close contact, but to her great disappointment it did not last. He buttoned up his greatcoat as he stepped outside the Lodge and with only a moment of hesitation, she followed.
It was freezing outside, but she was warmed, either thanks to her pelisse or by the smile Henry gave her. She wasn’t sure which.
‘You are a marvel, you know,’ he said warmly as he started to walk around the Lodge.
She fell in step with him. ‘Well, I don’t know about that.’
‘I do, and I will be forever grateful to you,’ came his quiet voice. ‘I don’t know where you get your ideas from. To be honest there’s so much to take in, I can hardly think straight.’
Ditty laughed as their footsteps crunched on the frozen ground. ‘It really isn’t that difficult. A Brexley Lodge for Gentlemen and Ladies of a Certain Age Valentine’s Day Ball.’
‘Isn’t that a bit of a mouthful?’
She shrugged. ‘Memorable, though, isn’t it?’
He grinned. ‘And you really think we need to go the whole hog?’
‘Most definitely,’ she said firmly. Based on what Henry had told her, they had to make money. And fast.
‘I like the theme.’
Ditty beamed. ‘The Last Century?’
‘A time my residents remember, or just about,’ Henry said with a laugh. ‘You’ll be bored silly by Emmeline’s memories, I’m afraid. She’s got an almost encyclopaedic recollection of Brexley from that time.’
Ditty stepped closer to Henry. She could not help herself; he was so tantalisingly close. As they walked, their hands almost brushed against each other. Her pulse quickened.
‘Musicians, dancing, favourite treats from that time—Mavis has promised marvels in that kitchen of yours,’ she said as they turned around the west side of the Lodge and started along the south side, where there used to be kitchen gardens.
‘And that reminds me, why don’t you use the kitchen gardens anymore? ’
Henry stared as though she had lost her mind. ‘What?’
‘These kitchen gardens,’ she said, waving toward them. ‘They’d be perfect for growing your own fruit and veg, then you wouldn’t have to buy them.’
It had seemed an obvious idea, but evidently Henry had never considered it before. ‘Well, we had a gardener, but when he accepted a job with the Marquess of Jutland, we—’
‘Never replaced him,’ chorused Ditty with a grin. ‘I don’t understand you sometimes—you’ve got a lodge full of people!’
‘We can’t put them to work,’ Henry protested.
She nudged him, warmth spiralling up her arm as she did so. ‘I’m not saying that! I’m just saying, there must be people who loved gardening in their own homes. They may enjoy having the challenge of a vegetable patch. You could make it a competition—a community project, really bring them together.’
Excitement suffused through every word, but Ditty could not help it. There was so much potential here, so many opportunities.
‘You’re just made of ideas, aren’t you?’
She glanced up but Henry was not teasing her. He seemed in earnest.
‘I mean, this ball—a raffle, love heart biscuits, donations, a dance, all to raise funds for the Lodge,’ said Henry softly as they continued on to the southeastern corner. ‘Ideas just spring from you like a fountain, don’t they?’
She flushed. ‘It is how I earn a living for myself and my family.’
Her family. When was the last time she had written to her sisters—and wasn’t their mama due to return from Brighton? She had become so easily distracted by this duke.
‘You’re a proposal planner, not…not whatever this is,’ Henry pointed out. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t think of doing that, to be honest. I am sure St James Court needs someone about the place to organise balls and the like.’
‘I suppose so. I suppose dukes do, as well.’
Henry’s cheeks burned. Perhaps he had never thought of that. Most dukes would have a housekeeper who would orchestrate events like this—dukes who had been raised to it from the very day they were born. Dukes who inherited an income, not just debts and responsibility.
She shrugged, hoping he would think she had missed his moment of discomfort. ‘I gain happiness from seeing people who love each other come together, make promises to each other.’
Why did those words feel so heavy with meaning? She tried not to catch his eye, but it was as though Henry was trying to catch hers.
Warmth rushed through her. Oh, she liked him. She more than liked him.
And what’s more, I like what I’ve found. I like you, Ditty.
I… I like you, too, Henry.
He wasn’t to know she meant that in an entirely different way.
Ditty couldn’t bring herself to reveal all, it would be too excruciating to hear his embarrassed stammers that he had not meant it like that.
She enjoyed his company, yes. Her heart leapt when she was with him, yes, and some of the dreams she’d been having lately…
Well, she knew the practicalities of lovemaking, but had presumed she would likely never know them after Thomas had ended their courtship. Yet, if her dreams lately were anything to go by, she was missing out on a great deal.
‘There’s a lot of love here, I suppose,’ Henry said, gesturing around the Lodge.