Chapter 5 #2
“Anyway, I’ll get this sorted. You two go on upstairs and clean yourselves up.”
“For what?” Lena asked, wary.
“Oh, nothing to fret about, love. Just a few people and a couple of bits for a proper celebration.”
And before I knew it, our luggage had been moved to the front hall, and Agnes had raced away so she could prepare the dining hall for guests.
“What just happened?” Lena asked as I led her up the stairs and down the hall.
“Agnes happened,” I said with a shrug. “No point in arguing. I’ve never known Agnes to be swayed.
” I placed her suitcase down beside one of the guest rooms. “You should have everything you need in terms of bedding,” I said.
“Your bathroom is just there.” I pointed it out.
“My room is just around the corner. I’d give you the rest of the rundown, but there are too many rooms to remember. ”
“Noted,” she said. “See you in a few, Lord Kincaid.”
“Don’t call me that.”
She twirled her hands, giving a silly, exaggerated bow. “Whatever you say, my liege.”
Less than thirty minutes later, we were back in the packed dining hall which had been hastily transformed with the power of Agnes’s knitting circle into a post-wedding buffet.
Several bottles of Grandad’s favorite wine had been brought out of the cellar, and there was a spread of sausage rolls, tattie scones, Scotch eggs, smoked salmon and sharp cheddar that filled the table, while an assortment of congratulatory cards decorated the sideboard.
Agnes dragged us around the room, re-introducing me to people I vaguely remembered from my summers as a boy and my visits over the years.
Lena was presented to everyone as if she was the greatest thing since sliced bread.
And maybe she was, for putting up with all of this.
“You’re a lovely bride, dear,” Mrs. Crawford said, finding herself another glass of wine as she wrapped her arm over Lena’s shoulders.
“I live just down the way there, you know. And I was so sorry to hear of Pete’s passing.
Terrible. Terrible. But the man loved to entertain.
He’d be chuffed with this whole spread.”
A few of the townsfolk eyed me up, whispering to each other and looking at their phones.
I fought the urge to scowl as I sipped my drink, suspecting Narissa’s insane rumors had followed me here.
I figured only a handful of the people here genuinely wanted to wish us well.
The rest had probably just come out to see the prodigal grandson return and figure out what gossip there was to spread.
Lena slipped away as Mrs. Crawford chased after a plate of pastries. “How is she already drunk?”
“We waste no time celebrating here,” I muttered, almost slopping my drink as Mrs. Crawford wrapped her arms around us from behind, her breath smelling of whisky.
“I’ve known Weston since before he was in trousers,” she said. “Just a wee little guy.”
“You don’t happen to have any pictures?” Lena asked, playing along.
“Don’t hog the newlyweds, Miriam,” a sharp voice said, snagging Lena and me and dragging us away. “Honestly, the woman has one dram and ends up absolutely blootered. Every. Single. Time. Anyway, I’m Josephine. Everyone around here calls me Old Jo.”
“Old Jo?” Lena mouthed in my direction.
I shrugged, vaguely remembering the woman.
“Don’t worry about Miriam. She’ll have her fill and toddle home. But do keep an eye on Mr. Philpott over there. If any of the good silverware goes missing, it’s his pocket you want to check.”
Lena laughed uncertainly as Jo led us around the room, blathering on like the town’s personal busybody.
“We’re all heartbroken to say goodbye to Pete,” Jo continued.
“Though I suppose if it was me in his shoes, I’d rather it be sudden than suffer.
Still, it does my heart good to see a young couple taking up the reins here.
It was never quite the same after we lost your gran.
” Jo patted me on the chest. “And of course you’ll be taking over where Pete left off organizing the annual Braeburn Summer Festival, I suppose? ”
Hell no, I thought, though I had the good sense not to say it out loud. But truly, of all the shite on my to-do list, that wasn’t one of my concerns. I cleared my throat. “Actually, that won’t be possible. With the estate and my business responsibilities back in Houston—”
“He’d be delighted,” Lena said, cutting me off.
I glared at her. Jo beamed. “That’s grand.”
“Excuse us,” I said, catching Lena’s arm and tugging her aside. Lowering my voice, I hissed, “Why did you say that? I don’t have time to plan an entire festival in a week!”
“Then we’ll need to stay a little longer,” she said. “PR is all over your inbox right now. Thanks to Narissa, you need some good press more than anything, and what could be better than planning a charming small-town festival?”
“I’ll sort her mess out when we get back.”
Lena shook her head. “You’re not getting it. Even if everything goes through with the estate and you gain access to the seabed rights, the local authorities will still need to sign off on development before the wind farm plans can move ahead”
The local authorities, meaning the local townsfolk, who were welcoming me warmly, for now, but who could change their minds in a heartbeat. Bugger.
“Now would be a good time to start building up some good will with the locals, don’t you think?”
She was right. I rubbed my face and gritted my teeth.
I didn’t know where I was going to find the time for festival planning right now, but I’d be carrying on Grandad’s tradition—a tradition he’d never get to see through again.
An ache stirred in my gut at that thought. What could be better PR than that?
“Okay,” I muttered.
“He’ll do it,” Lena said, whirling around with a charming smile and clutching my hand in a good show of newlywed affection. For a beat, even I was convinced.
“Cheers to the couple!” Mrs. Crawford shouted, grabbing hold of us again to stop herself from wobbling. She found a half-empty glass and hoisted it into the air.
Agnes beamed like a proud aunt, and there were plenty of enthusiastic cheers from the group as a whole, but I noticed that there were a few wary eyes that kept watching me, perhaps wondering what exactly I had to offer. Whether I could live up to Grandad’s example.
“I’m sure you remember the festival from when you were a boy,” one woman said, her nose turned up like she’d gotten a whiff of something unpleasant.
“Aye,” I said.
“I remember him and his friends running around, lifting pies off my stand,” an older gentleman said, his mustache ruffling. “Tyrants, the three of you!”
Part of me wanted to argue, but I bit my cheek. No need to offend the man—especially since he was right. That truly did sound like younger versions of Locke, Alastair, and me.
Lena laughed politely. “I can assure you he’s put his pie-thieving days behind him.”
I forced a smile, but the man was clearly far from won over.
There was a small but determined contingent who seemed to be unsure what to make of my return.
Regardless of whether I wanted to or not, I was going to have to pull this festival together.
It was the only way I’d have any hope in moving forward with Kincaid Energy’s wind farm project.
“Don’t worry about any of that right now though,” Jo said. “You just focus on Pete’s affairs for the next few days. After that, we’ll get you up to speed on the festival.”
As she wandered off, Lena shot me a wry grin. “This should be interesting.”
I wrapped my hand around her waist and pulled her close, leaning down next to her ear. “Don’t get too excited,” I whispered. “You’ve just signed us both up.”
She stiffened in my arms.
“If I have to be involved, so do you, wife.”