10. Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
A week later, Mabel and Colin were in the hall’s drawing room, hosting a large group of people from various historical committees, charities, stuck-up academic institutions, and general village gossipmongers.
After three hours of hearing all the negatives about his beloved home, Colin was just about ready to set fire to it—only he didn’t think the insurance would pay up.
“Would anyone like more tea or coffee? There’s also a selection of refreshments on the terrace.” Mabel gestured at the open French windows that led outside. “I believe there might be scones and clotted cream as well.”
At the mention of scones there was a stream of personnel toward the exit. Colin stood beside Mabel as they watched people eagerly leave. “You’re totally getting it now. Mentioning sweet treats is always a winner.”
She winked at him. He’d let her do most of the presentation as they walked around the house and only chipped in when asked a specific question.
While planning this tour, she’d asked all the residents of the house to speak freely if they encountered the touring group.
It was a genius idea. As well-practiced complainers, they’d all provided a fitting chorus of doom and despair to accompany the facts Mabel shared.
“Your secretary’s a nice gel!” Sir Hugo Moffat from the Old Homes of England Association stopped beside Colin. “American!”
“Yes, Mabel is American, and she’s very nice, but she’s definitely not my secretary,” Colin said with a smile. “She’s my partner in this venture.”
Sir Hugo winked. “That’s what we’re calling it these days is it?” He made bunny ears with his fingers. “I thought the term was ‘hook up’ according to my grandchildren. How’s your father doing?”
“He’s holding his own,” Colin said.
“Parkinson’s, I gather.”
“Yes.”
“Not fun.” Sir Hugo grimaced and looked up at the badly patched ceiling. “Would be a shame to see this place go to wrack and ruin. I’ll be supporting a grant from our association for restoration purposes.”
“Thank you, Sir Hugo,” Colin said. “I appreciate that very much and so will my father.”
“Give him my best, won’t you?”
“I will.”
Sir Hugo nodded. “Must be off. Got a field to mow for some incoming glampers. Got to keep up with the times. My secretary will be in touch.”
Colin joined Mabel out on the terrace where Mrs. Reynolds was presiding over the tea and coffee pots.
“Sir Hugo’s in,” he murmured to Mabel as the stood to the side.
“Awesome!” Mabel nodded toward a tall blonde woman who was managing a cup of tea and a large slice of cake while she typed on her phone. “Leslie Armitage from the Galveston Foundation also gave me the okay.”
“Brilliant.” Colin caught hold of her hands. “By Jove, if we factor in the big loan from the bank, I think we’re going to do it!”
“Well, we can at least make a start and get the roof, the plumbing, and the electricity up to standard.”
“You’re so practical,” Colin complained and turned to Freddy who had just appeared at his side. “I think we have a chance to save this place.”
“Nice.” Freddy didn’t look overtly impressed but that was very on brand. “Any cake left?”
Colin sighed as his brother moved past him.
“No one appreciates me.”
Mabel nodded sympathetically. “I think you’re doing okay.”
“Okay? That’s like a zero in American speak.”
She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’m getting my British on.”
“I’m your British.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Climb on board any time.”
Someone behind them loudly cleared their throat. They turned to see Olivia Deville, the family solicitor. “Just wanted to let you know that we’ve run out of cake and the tea situation is getting dire,” she said.
“I’ll go fix that,” Mabel hurried off, her cheeks red.
Colin turned to Olivia who was grinning. “Hope you didn’t overhear too much of that conversation?”
“I heard enough to know you’re getting some.
” She winked. “I like Mabel. She’s a breath of fresh air.
” She glanced back at the chattering crowd on the balcony.
“This could work, you know. I’m willing to offer legal services for whatever foundation or nonprofit you create.
You’ll need someone to manage the funds. I’ll do it for free.”
“Don’t tell your dad that.”
Olivia shrugged. “I’ll make a lot of good contacts for our firm. I think we’ll be better off financially in the long run.” She hesitated. “Do you think Mabel is going to stick around?”
“That’s the one-million-dollar question,” Colin said.
“Excuse me for being nosy. But have you asked her?” Olivia patted his shoulder. “I know how shy and awkward you British boys tend to be, and sometimes you miss the bleeding obvious.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from bitter personal experience,” Colin commented.
“Oh, my love life is a swamp.” Olivia finished her coffee and set the cup down.
“Then I hope you find solid ground soon.” Colin smiled at her.
“Cheers to that.” She paused. “One thing that would really help your grant applications would be if you could find something unique within the house that needed preserving in situ or that could be sold for a huge profit.”
“Duh.” Colin rolled his eyes. “I can assure you that we’re searching every nook and cranny for a forgotten masterpiece.”
“Then keep looking.” She kissed his cheek. “It’s nice to see you looking so happy, Colin.”
“This is happy?” He pointed at his temple. “I’m going gray with all the stress.”
“Who doesn’t love a silver fox?”
“Me?”
“You’ve got to love yourself, sweetie, or why would anyone else bother?” Olivia laughed. “I’ll be in touch, okay?”
“Thanks for everything you’re doing,” Colin called after her. “I appreciate you.”
She waved as she moved off and he stared after her, the smile disappearing.
If he was in a movie, he’d suddenly discover a Grinling Gibbons carving or a lost Van Dyke stuck in a cupboard, but real life meant that was unlikely, and he’d have to make do with what he had.
Olivia’s words about happiness starting with himself wouldn’t leave his head.
He needed to find the courage to believe them and to find a way to keep Mabel by his side.
His gaze wandered from the terrace to the drawing room. He couldn’t remember the last time the house had been so full of people. It seemed to bask in the attention and for the first time since his brother’s death, it felt more of a home than a mausoleum.
Could he ask Mabel to stay with him here permanently?
The question hung in his mind as he entered the house and seemed to expand into the painted dome above his head as he looked up.
“I wish Michelangelo had painted that,” he muttered. “We’d make a fortune.”
“Wrong century.” Mabel joined him, following his gaze upward. “I think.”
“You’re right as usual.” He put his arm around her. “Thanks for doing all this.”
“It’s been my pleasure. I know it’s just a start, but I truly believe you will get this old house back on its feet without having to sell it.”
“Not sure if I could actually sell it, what with entails and all that,” Coin confessed.
“The place is loaded down with legalities designed to make sure it passes along the male line whatever happens in the world. Death taxes, capital gains, wars, you name it, we’re in for the long haul.
” He drew her even closer. “After the Second World War a lot of people left their country houses to rot or tore them down because they couldn’t afford to live in them but couldn’t legally sell them. ”
“That’s terribly sad,” Mabel murmured.
“I guess that’s life. Nothing goes on forever and a lot of people were probably quite glad to see the back of those of us who own these places.” He found a smile. “I’m supposed to be celebrating, not bemoaning my fate.”
She went on tiptoe and kissed him very gently on the mouth. “You’re allowed to feel all of it, you know.”
“Only when I’m with you. It’s not a very British thing to do.”
Her smile was slow in coming but made something inside him go still as if recognizing the truth of his own words.
“Then I guess I’d better hang around for a while and make sure you keep feeling that way.”
“Will you?” He held her gaze.
“Hang out with you?”
“Yes, please.”
She cupped his chin. “I’ll stay for as long as I’m wanted, okay? I really want this place to be a success.”
He wanted to ask her to stick around purely for him, but didn’t want to push his luck, and reluctantly let her go.
After the experts and committee members departed, Colin gathered the inhabitants of the house in the drawing room. “I wanted to share some good news with you all,” he announced.
“Makes a change,” someone muttered from the back.
“I think we’re going to raise enough capital to repair the roof, plumbing, and electricity, put in a proper damp course, and prevent any further flooding in the cellars.”
He waited for the outpouring of support and applause but there was none. Although a couple of his nicer relatives were almost smiling at him.
“I’d still like you all to consider ways in which you might help the future prosperity of the house. We’ll be investing in the home farm and rehabilitating the gardens, so if any of you have an interest in that, please speak to Freddy.”
A hand went up.
“Yes?” he asked.
“What about the lake?”
Colin smiled encouragingly. “Are you offering to help restore it?”
“Not at all. I just want to fish.”
Freddy cleared his throat and turned around in his chair to look at the speaker. “If that’s what you want to do, Uncle Bradford, then you’ll have to work with me and the team to clear the weeds and reopen the channels to the stream that supplies it with water.”
“We used to have staff to do that kind of thing,” Uncle Bradford sniffed.
“Well, now we don’t.” To Colin’s amazement Freddy carried on talking “And Colin’s right. If we want something to work properly on the estate, we’ve got to be prepared to help to make it happen.”