The Solicitation
Page 20
“Good girl. I will see you first then, come along,” Bennett said, and waited for Elisabeth to vacate her seat and follow him.
Brayden stayed in the Great Room with Sullivan to supervise the remaining four candidates. A uniformed female maid was in the room to keep the tea and scones tidy and replenished on the buffet nearby. Brayden had agreed to help supervise the candidates after Bennett learned from him how several of the girls from the sixteen Brayden interviewed had wandered about his home at Waldorf Manor out of curiosity, and deliberately against his orders. Another ‘last thing’ Bennett Fowler needed was one of the girls poking about Barton-Court House. None of them would get the chance and even if he chose one, she wouldn’t either; they were to remain sitting in their chairs quietly chatting amongst themselves except for when they could retrieve a cup of tea or a nibble. Bennett had insisted coffee not be made available; it would be out of the question to the chosen girl anyway, so might as well not even tempt them.
Elisabeth felt a familiar nervousness excitement as she followed Bennett Fowler out of the Great Room, through the oval reception room and a short corridor which came out from between a set of double staircases and into his large foyer. Bennett turned right and began up the left-hand staircase. Elisabeth followed half a step behind him.
Although the situation was practically the same, bar a different person, she felt differently. Brayden’s insistence back at her interview that she wouldn’t stay at Waldorf because she wanted to spend most of her days drawing and sketching, rather than embrace the fact that Brayden would decide when and where she did so, had left quite a sting in her. Elisabeth hadn’t felt at the time that it was her fault, but upon reflection she realised she’d made a huge mistake. Elisabeth even went so far as to draft an email to Brayden to apologise and to appeal to him, asking if he would give her another opportunity. Elisabeth never sent the email and had spent up until that moment regretting it.
“Sit there, please,” Bennett said, referring to a straight-backed chair in front of his mahogany desk. Bennett Fowler wasn’t as accommodating as Brayden had been in his interviews and told Sullivan to remove his tufted leather guest chairs away from the desk and insisted that any girl who interviews sits in a hard, straight-backed chair across from his imposing desk for the duration.
Bennett took the sketch pad from Elisabeth before she made her way to the chair and then placed it to one side and gave attention promptly to Elisabeth’s application in front of him on the desk.
“Fold your hands, please,” Bennett said, without looking up from her application.
He knew Elisabeth would otherwise fidget with the hem of her pinafore as Brayden noted in his observations from February. Elisabeth folded her hands immediately.
“Respond to me properly, Elisabeth. I cannot mind read,” Bennett said, looking up from the application at her.
“Yes, Sir,” Elisabeth said, feeling her cheeks blush.
“I shan’t tell you again,” he said, the look on his face communicating how serious he was, and then returned his attention to her application.
“Sir,” Elisabeth replied, quietly. She sat nervously, observing Bennett as he read through her application.
Elisabeth had been mistaken in thinking Brayden James was the most formal, disciplined man she had ever met. Bennett Fowler was in a whole other league, and that was in no way disrespecting Brayden James, who was most definitely both of those things in his own way.
“Are you still eighteen years old?” Bennett asked, looking up at Elisabeth, finally.
“Nineteen, Sir,” she responded.
"You've had a birthday since February," Bennett commented, plainly.
"Yes, Sir," Elisabeth replied.
Bennett sat back slightly so that his concentration was on Elisabeth and no longer on her application. He had already read everything he needed to know.
“What have you been doing with yourself since Mr. James interviewed you?” Bennett asked.
“I’ve still been drawing, but not as much. I don’t volunteer at the British Heart Foundation charity shop anymore,” Elisabeth replied.
“Did you leave willingly or were you asked to leave?” Bennett asked.
“I wanted to leave,” Elisabeth said.
“I hope you had good reason,” Bennett said, surprised to hear a change of circumstance when he felt he had known a few solid things about her, amongst that was her love of volunteering.
“Yes, Sir. I quit when Bray- Mr. James, emailed me a few days ago about this interview with you,” Elisabeth said.
Bennett raised an eyebrow.
“You are rather confident I will choose you?” Bennett asked.
“Hopeful, Sir. Volunteering is then one less thing tying me down now,” Elisabeth replied.
Bennett had already begun making decisions in his mind by that point.
“Do you know why I told you to bring along your sketch pad?” Bennett asked.
“No, Sir. I thought perhaps you wanted to criticise my drawings,” Elisabeth said.
Bennett raised another surprised eyebrow.
“You would have every right, Sir,” Elisabeth added.
“I certainly would,” he said, and reached for the sketch pad adjacent to Elisabeth’s application on his desk.
Bennett opened the hard cover of her sketch pad to the first drawing, which was a likeness of a business man sitting on a bench in Hyde Park on his mobile phone. And it was terribly good. Good enough that Bennett Fowler and his exacting standards would have paid for such a drawing. But he didn’t say a word as he turned the page and observed another; two schoolgirls in uniform in Trafalgar Square sitting on the fountain wall, laughing. One after another, Bennett remained stone-faced as he looked through Elisabeth’s incredibly humanised portraits, of which a great deal were still rough sketches. Elisabeth certainly had talent.
“You said you’re no longer drawing as much as when you did all these,” Bennett said, abruptly closing her sketch book.
“Yes, Sir,” Elisabeth said.
“Why is that?” he asked, placing the closed sketch pad on the desk in front of him.
“I was using it to escape. I was obsessed, and it was taking up every hour of my day. More importantly, it lost me the opportunity to live with Mr. James,” Elisabeth said, looking down at her hands.
Bennett was even more impressed; he didn’t show any outward signs of being amused, but he felt as though Elisabeth had used her previously failed interview to examine herself and make suitable changes – even before another opportunity for a similar lifestyle was on the cards.
“Elisabeth, I admire your honesty,” Bennett said, and stood up before taking the sketch pad in his hands. “Come with me,” he said, and vacated his desk and led her over to the large fireplace and seating area.
Elisabeth followed Bennett and stopped in front of him, her hands still folded in front of her.
“Do you desire to live here at Barton-Court with me, under my authority and the understanding that I will decide on a daily basis everything which concerns you?” Bennett asked.
“Yes, Sir,” Elisabeth said.
Bennett turned and dropped Elisabeth’s sketch pad into the fire and then looked back at her. Elisabeth's mouth slowly opened, but she didn’t say a word. She closed her eyes as if to imagine herself elsewhere.
“Good, because I wish you to learn piano,” Bennett said.
Somehow Elisabeth knew harm might come to her sketch pad if she ever allowed anyone to touch it; she had just known.
“Sir,” Elisabeth said, quietly, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
“I also believe you can do better than that,” he said, nodding toward the melting sketchbook in the fireplace adjacent to where he stood.
Somehow Bennett’s words were so profound to her that she dismissed the temptation to dive into the fireplace and retrieve her book of precious drawings. Bennett offered his handkerchief to Elisabeth and she took it to wipe her eyes, which had filled with tears.
“Come along,” he said rather suddenly, and began across the study toward the door. Bennett held it open for Elisabeth and then followed her out before leading the way back downstairs.
Downstairs, Sullivan opened the double doors of the Great Room when Bennett unexpectedly appeared leading Elisabeth by the hand toward him, having to step aside rather quickly when he realised Bennett wasn’t going to slow his pace down. Indeed he didn’t and walked straight through into the Great Room, taking Elisabeth with him. Brayden turned as Bennett entered, holding Elisabeth’s hand. It was clear to him whom Bennett had chosen.
“Thank you, girls, you are all dismissed. Brayden,” Bennett said, and then turned and made his way back out of the Great Hall, Elisabeth still in hand. Brayden made eye contact with the two uniformed maids who knew they were to escort the remaining four girls to the front door for Bennett’s driver to take them home. The four remaining girls were utterly confused. They hadn't even been interviewed!
Brayden followed Bennett upstairs to his study a few feet behind Elisabeth; observing she had been upset by something. Brayden considered the option that Bennett perhaps took Elisabeth against her will – and by considered, he meant he wouldn’t put it past Bennett Fowler.
“Stand there,” Bennett said, letting go of Elisabeth’s hand and leading her to a place in front of where he stood a few feet away when the three of them arrived.
Brayden closed Bennett’s study door and stood beside him, facing the girl.
“Tell Mr. James what you told me, Elisabeth. About your drawing,” Bennett said.
“Yes, Sir,” Elisabeth responded, to Bennett, before transferring her eye contact to Brayden.
“I told Bennett - -,” Elisabeth started.
“MISTER Fowler,” Bennett corrected, closing his eyes momentarily and then opening them again.
“Yes, Sir, Mr. Fowler, that I was quite upset after I left my interview with you back in February because I felt I made the wrong decision. I drafted an apology email to you that evening but I never sent it and I’ve regretted it ever since,” Elisabeth said, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact with Brayden.
Brayden looked at Bennett and then back at Elisabeth.
“Why did you not send it?” Brayden asked, referring to the email she spoke of.
“You said in your original post that you would cease communication to whomever wasn’t chosen. I hadn’t been chosen, so I figured you would neither read nor reply, and I was afraid of being rejected further,” Elisabeth replied.
“I did say about ceasing communication, yes, and I admire you observing that statement. I must tell you, Elisabeth, that I would never had replied in such a manner as to offend you, and I would have at least acknowledged your email; that is called integrity, and I daresay you will learn a great deal of that here with Mr. Fowler,” Brayden said, nodding toward Bennett.
“Yes, Sir,” Elisabeth replied.
“Tell Mr. James what else you told me,” Bennett said, as if he were growing inpatient having to get the entire story out of her.
“Yes, Sir. I’ve reduced my sketching time to an hour per day. I also stopped volunteering at the British Heart Foundation when I received your email regarding this interview with Mr. Fowler,” Elisabeth said.
“Why is that?” Brayden asked.
“Because I wanted to show you and Mr. Fowler that I want this. I have two less things to worry about now in making the transition. Well, that was my thought when I quit the other day, at least,” Elisabeth said.
Brayden looked at Bennett; he was impressed and surprised, but kept it hidden behind a small nod to his friend.
“I’m glad you’ve come today, Elisabeth and that we can move on from this. I am very glad you took away a valuable lesson in our interview, but I’m sorry that you spent the last nine months mulling it over. But you mustn’t think that I rejected you; Alice is meant to be with me at Waldorf. In any case, I’m very glad you will be close by moving forward. What you haven't received from your parents you will certainly learn from Mr. Fowler,” Brayden said.
Elisabeth could feel tears welling up in her eyes again; she had wanted to hear all of that for nine months. She had properly obsessed over the opportunity to leave her neglecting home for a completely different experience.
“Acknowledge Mr. James’ apology, please, Elisabeth,” Bennett told her.
“Thank you, Sir,” Elisabeth said, looking at Brayden.
“You are welcome,” Brayden told her.
Bennett looked at Brayden and had a quiet word with him before excusing himself. Elisabeth watched him exit and then turned her attention back at Bennett.
“Right, let’s discuss when you will move in,” Bennett said.
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Table of Contents
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
About the Author
Excerpt from Author " The Short List, Chapter One "
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