The Duchess and the Dreamer

by Jenny Frame

  “Did you like living here when you were young, Clem?” Evan asked.

  Clementine considered her answer and whether she should be truthful. She felt she could. Evan had been nothing but respectful to her ancestral home.

  “By the time my father inherited Rosebrook, it was a big country pile with no money to fix it. There were leaks everywhere, the heating didn’t work properly, and I always felt this dark cloud of stress hung over the house. My father felt impotent, not able to make things right, and the more stress my parents felt, the more I began to resent my grandmother. She was one of the wealthiest people in Britain when she inherited, and it was gone in a lifetime. The family paintings and special pieces of furniture were being sold just to make ends meet…”

  “I feel a but coming,” Evan said and walked over to Clementine.

  “You’re right. It was still an amazing place to grow up. An adventure playground all to myself, and I always felt connected by my ancestry, by my very DNA. That’s why it hurt so much to leave.”

  Evan took a huge chance and reached out for Clementine’s hand. She didn’t rebuff her, and that meant the world to her.

  “I might not be your ideal caretaker for your ancestral home, but I promise you I will take care of it.” Evan found herself taking a step towards Clementine. She could smell her scent and it was intoxicating. “Clem, I’d like to fill Rosebrook with sunshine again and wake the village up to be a vibrant, safe, ecological haven, and an inspiration to the country. Imagine a village where people like us can live together in safety, families who know they won’t be judged. I have a vision, a dream, and I want you to believe in it too.”

  Clementine was looking at her intently, her lips slightly parted, and Evan shivered when Clem wet her lips with her tongue.

  I want to kiss you so badly, Evan thought.

  “What do you mean, people like us?” Clementine said.

  “Gay, lesbian, the whole LGBTQ community.”

  Clementine raised an eyebrow. “You’re making assumptions.”

  “No, you told me you wouldn’t marry a man to pass on your title, so I think you’re like me, Your Majesty, Your Graceship,” Evan said smiling.

  Clementine squeezed her hand. “Maybe.”

  The air between them was thick with sexual tension again, just like on the trampoline. How Evan wanted this woman. If Clementine hadn’t put a hand on her chest, Evan would have kissed her atop the trampoline.

  It felt like fate to Evan that she should fall for Isadora’s granddaughter and bring the last Fitzroy back to be the mistress of Rosebrook. But if she moved too quickly, she might scare Clem off. The way she felt right now, it was either kiss her or ask her the big question again.

  She made her choice. “Come and work for me, Clem—I mean, the trust, work for the trust.”

  Clementine gulped and then thought silently for a minute.

  “I will give you an answer if you’ll give me an answer to this question. How does it feel living here? Before you left for London you said you’d bitten off more than you could chew. What did you mean?”

  “Ah, that question.”

  She had to open herself up to Clementine or she wouldn’t trust her. “To be super honest, it’s not quite what I imagined.”

  “In what way?”

  Evan let go of her hand and straightened her tie. “Sometimes I get carried away with my dreams and don’t think of the practicalities. It’s been my dream to buy Rosebrook for years, and don’t get me wrong—I’m in love with the village and the house…”

  “But?” Clementine said.

  Evan stuffed her hands in her pockets and put her head down.

  “You don’t want to tell me?”

  Evan sighed. “No, I just hate to admit to negativity. I live my life by having a positive attitude and making the best of bad situations.”

  Clementine reached for Evan’s tiepin. The simple intimate touch made Evan forget to breathe.

  “Evan Fox, the happy-go-lucky jumping bean, who wants to save the world, but who is she when the lights go out?”

  Evan felt like this was her one chance to make an emotional connection to Clementine. She had to take it.

  “I’m lonely. When I pictured living here, I never thought about having dinner on my own, going to bed alone in the huge echoey house. I came from a two bedroom flat, so it’s hard. I don’t even have a staff yet. I don’t know what I need. I mean, I have a cleaning firm come in twice a week, but I don’t know how to staff a house like this.”

  Clementine pursed her lips and nodded. “Sounds like you need some help, Evan. What time do I start on Monday morning? Half past eight?”

  Evan felt such elation. Being honest about negative emotions had gotten her past some of Clementine’s walls.

  “Thank you so much! We’re going to be an unbeatable team. It’s hug time.” Evan picked Clementine up and spun her around.

  “Evan, put me down this instant.”

  Evan eased Clementine down and said, “Sorry, I get carried away. We are going to do amazing things.”

  “And I’ll be there to rein in your more outlandish dreams and bring you back to reality,” Clementine said, smiling.

  “That’s what great teams are, yin and yang.” Evan remembered the university essay that she’d dug out. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She walked over to the bed and picked up a folder, then brought it back to Clementine. “I wondered if you would take a look at this.”

  “What is it?” Clementine asked.

  “My university essay on Isadora. I thought maybe you’d like to see her from an outsider’s point of view, and maybe correct me on any of the family history I got wrong.”

  Clementine held the folder and said after a few seconds, “If you really want me to.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate it, and I’ll give you the files on our plans for you to look at over the weekend. Then on Monday, when you come to work, you can set us all right.”

  Clementine gave her a cheeky grin at that point. “I do like setting people right.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “A bit more to me, Archie.”

  Archie put down her end of the desk with a thump. “Fox, it’s seven thirty on a Monday morning, I’ve just fought through the most almighty traffic jam to get here on time, and we’ve been moving this desk around for half an hour.”

  Evan eased her end of the desk down. “If you moved out here, then you wouldn’t have to sit in traffic jams on a long commute.”

  Archie rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I would rather sit in a jam than live in the country.”

  “Where did this phobia come from, Archie? Maybe you need to talk to a professional,” Evan said jokingly.

  “Oh, shut up. Can we finish moving this bloody thing?”

  “Okay, okay just a little more to me.” Evan picked up her side and they manoeuvred it into position. She looked to her desk, now only a few feet away, and was happy. “Perfect.”

  “Can I point something out?” Archie said. She pointed to the four desks used by the admin team. “You realize we started over there, and we’ve ended up a few feet from your desk?”

  “And?” Evan folded her arms.

  “And you seem to want her grumpy duchess-ship close to you,” Archie said.

  “She’s not grumpy—she just has a lot to deal with in her life.” Evan had a rare defensive tone in her voice. “I don’t want to hear anyone refer to her like that. Do you realize how hard it must be for the duchess to come and work here? To work for a company controlling her birthright? She’s had to swallow a lot of pride, and I think she is an amazing woman.”

  “Uh-oh,” Archie said. “You’re the most positive, happy person I’ve ever known. You only get close to frustration and anger when a woman is involved. You don’t want to go down that road.”

  “I’m not going down any road, but even if I was, why wouldn’t I want to?”

  “I’m sorry to say these things, but sometimes you’re so positive you don’t see the pi
tfalls. Remember Miranda?” Archie said.

  Evan relived the sense of foolishness she endured at that time, one year ago. “Miranda was an exception. I normally have really positive experiences with women I’ve been out with.”

  “You were besotted within a week, and within two she was wanting money off you. You came to your senses, but it took six months to stop her showing up everywhere you went.”

  “I wasn’t besotted. I fell for her hard luck story and felt obliged to help her. I didn’t know she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  Miranda’s stalking behaviour was an embarrassing episode. One she wouldn’t want to repeat again.

  “There’s a huge difference between someone like Miranda and the duchess. She isn’t affected by money—she works, and works hard. She may be a duchess, but she wasn’t born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She’s a classy woman, too classy for someone like me.”

  They were interrupted by the admin staff walking in. Archie said in a low voice, “She’s a toff with a chip on her shoulder. You have her house and her land, and you could be her ticket back there. Just be careful.”

  Evan nodded quickly, then stood and extended her hands. “Good morning, happy team. You settle yourselves in, and I’ll make the coffee.”

  A short time later Clementine arrived, and after short introductions, Evan had her sitting at her own desk and was showing her the ropes of their computer system.

  “This is the shared drive, where you can find all the information on Rosebrook and the concepts and vision for the village. Now as head of the trust you’ll have your own system in place. I asked my IT guys to design a trust website for you. I’ll email you the details. You’re the administrator of the site, and you can use it as you see fit.”

  “I will have your backing, won’t I?” Clementine said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Clementine leaned further in to her. “The architects’ team, for example. I need to know if I make a choice or suggestion that they’re not just going to run to you.”

  Evan groaned internally. She was so close to Clementine that she just wanted to lean in, inhale her scent, and kiss her elegant neck.

  “Evan?”

  Evan realized she had been dreaming. “What was the question again?”

  Clementine sighed. “Will I have your backing if your staff come running to complain to you about something I’m trying to do?”

  “Of course you have my backing. If we don’t agree on something, we’ll discuss it. There’s always a compromise. Now back to the computer—”

  “Yes, yes, I’ve got all that,” Clementine interrupted. She lifted her briefcase from the floor and pulled out some files. “I read over your plans over the weekend and I’ve got a few suggestions.”

  “Excellent.” Evan rubbed her hands together.

  Clementine handed her two plastic folders and a pen drive. “The first is a report on the village regeneration plans, and the second is on the house itself. You said you wanted advice on how to staff and run it?”

  Evan leafed through a few pages of the extremely professional and comprehensive reports Clementine had prepared. Wow, she was efficient.

  “This is, well, excellent,” Evan said, trying to take some of the information in.

  “It’s all on this drive, but I thought you might like to leaf through it on paper. Now on the staff I’ve suggested. It’s much more desirable to employ people who live in the village. That way everyone has a stake in making the house and the community work.”

  Evan was impressed but also patted herself on the back for persuading Clementine to help her. “You’re right. I would never have thought of that. So what’s your plan? Give a quick summary.”

  “My thoughts are these. You’re going to rent the properties you refurbish and build—”

  “At an affordable and reasonable price,” Evan finished for her.

  “Quite, so you should hire permanent staff from that group of people, and get temp agencies in until then,” Clementine said.

  Evan loved the sparkle in Clementine’s eyes. Before, they were sad and weighed down by the world. Today was new—today Clementine was doing what she was trained to do since birth. “Excellent idea. Anyone would think you were trained to this.”

  Clementine stood up, gathered her things, and gave her a bright smile. A smile that banjoed her right across the face and in the heart. “I’d like to show you the advert my PR team has come up with for our new community. We’d like to release it to the major press this week.”

  “Email it to me. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get to work. I need to review the files before the meeting with the architects.”

  With that Clementine walked with purpose across to her desk, her heels clattering on the wooden floor, and Evan couldn’t stop her eyes wandering down Clementine’s legs in the short skirt she was wearing.

  What a woman, Evan silently muttered to herself.

  * * *

  Clementine had to admit, she was loving being in an office environment again, and even more, loving the fact that she was working on her village and trying to make it better. Kay was right, if you couldn’t beat them, join them. But one thing she kept very clear in her mind—her main task was to rein in Evan’s dreams, to make sure Rosebrook wasn’t left bereft again.

  She opened the drawer in her desk and looked at the picture frame she had brought from home. It was a photo taken of Grandma Isadora and Granny Louisa when they first inherited Rosebrook. A warning to Clementine that dreams can run away from you and become nightmares.

  The other aspect to the job was the salary. She could finally get caught up with her mother’s nursing home fees. She shut the drawer and turned her attention back to her computer and the noise that had been grating on her nerves for the past half hour—Evan walking up and down the office floor, talking loudly on her headset, while bouncing a rubber ball incessantly.

  She gazed up at Evan and watched her nearly bounce along the floor herself, gesticulating with one hand, and throwing the ball with the other. She was a jumping bean and that bloody ball was giving her a headache, and if Evan was on the phone everyone knew about it. She didn’t seem to possess an indoor voice.

  “Ten percent, Roberto? You’ve got it. See you in Rome. Ciao,” Evan shouted. She then turned to her PA Rupert and said loudly, “We’re ready for liftoff with the Ferrari tie-up.” She rubbed her hands together, and you could see her mind was already onto the next thought.

  Clementine watched her start another call and bounce that bloody ball again.

  She emailed Rupert the architects’ report and walked over to him, trying to distract herself from the noise.

  Rupert stood up nervously. “Can I help you, Your Grace?”

  Clementine smiled. He was a nice boy, and the girls were pleasant too. Young and eager to be helpful. “You don’t have to stand, and it’s Clementine, remember?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Do you need something?”

  “Yes, I’ve emailed you a report. Could you print out twenty copies for the meeting?”

  “No problem. We’ll get that done in no time.”

  Clementine was just about to walk away when she asked, “Rupert? Does she always do that?”

  “Oh, the ball? No, only since she came here. In her London office she has a mini trampoline.”

  Clementine raised both eyebrows in shock. “A trampoline?”

  “Yeah, she has too much energy, you see. She can’t sit still.”

  “I can see that,” Clementine said. Then as she looked at Evan, she realized, she had the energy of a child, a child who was running a multinational toy company. She was quite sweet, really, but they had to do something about that bloody ball.

  * * *

  Evan was enjoying taking a back seat on this meeting. The team of architects commissioned to work on the Rosebrook project had arrived thirty minutes ago and were extremely surprised to find the project now run by a trust, not just Evan, and under the clearly formidable Duchess o
f Rosebrook.

  It was fun to watch Clementine come into her own and to imagine the kind of duchess she would have been if Isadora hadn’t lost the family home and fortune. The three men and two women on the team of architects looked at each other in disbelief as Clementine critiqued their designs and plans point by point.

  “The former army barracks should not be torn down—it’s part of this village’s history. Rosebrook played a part in winning the Second World War. They may not be the most beautiful of buildings, but we can make them special, worthwhile, so that when the community uses them, they remember their link to the past.”

  What a brilliant idea, Evan thought. Her mind spun with a million community spaces the barracks could become. Clem was earning her money already.

  One of the senior male architects interrupted Clementine, saying, “With the greatest respect, Your Grace.”

  “Questions can come at the end, Mr. Foskit.” Clementine swiftly put him in his place.

  Evan had to stop herself from laughing by putting her hand over her mouth. Go you, m’lady.

  The frustrated Mr. Foskit sighed loudly and shot a look to Evan. She just smiled and shrugged.

  Archie leaned over and whispered, “Are you all right with this? These plans have been in place for some time now.”

  “Oh yes, she’s shaking things up and reminding us of our duty to the history of this place. That’s what I want.”

  Archie added, “She’s a bit of a boss, isn’t she?”

  That’s what Evan was starting to love about Clem. “She’s a duchess. She’s being who she was born to be.”

  Clementine continued, “The last point, but the most important one, is the designs for the rebuild on the existing cottages and the new houses. We have to go back to the drawing board. These houses were built over centuries, employing different building techniques. They each have to have their own character, their own signature.”

  The more Evan listened to Clem, the more she could see Isadora in her. Clem just needed to recognize that.

  “We already have our brief and plans costed—”