by Bella Bryce
By Sunday morning, she was already looking forward to that evening, when she and Jonathan would take a stroll through the gardens and pick up conversation where they'd left off the night before. After tea, Bennett and Alice would return to Barton-Court, and Jon would excuse himself, leaving Evelyn and Elisabeth. Even from the very conservative amount of time they'd spent together, Elisabeth could see a marked difference in what she'd come to understand as 'normal' for her future mother-in-law. So different, in fact, that Elisabeth began to wonder if the Evelyn she'd met had just been a façade the entire time. Elisabeth didn't draw attention to it, though, and shame her for things in the past that Evelyn had apologised for. She found their evening chats before bedtime were good for both of them. Evelyn so enjoyed having another girl to talk to about marriage who wanted to hear good things; unlike many of the ladies in her social circle, who used to call the part of their luncheons where conversation turned to marriage, "the limbo course." It was depressing, even to the ones who made out that it was normal and amusing to speak about their husbands that way. Since Jonathan had restored several things between them, the next thing to go from Evelyn's privileges, after the bank account, was her ladies luncheons. In the weeks since, Evelyn noticed her thoughts about Jonathan weren't so negative because she didn't have the sound of incessant bitching in her ear.
Evelyn shared only select things about her marriage to Jonathan, in the hopes that Elisabeth understood that although she could pass along wisdom, many things she would need to learn herself. That, and she also wanted Elisabeth to know that they weren't equal. Evelyn was, after all, the only mother she would have for the rest of her life. Bennett had insisted Elisabeth use the same titles he did for his parents, which she keenly remembered from the precarious position she'd been in only a few days before; but it was the quality of time she'd spent under their care at Greystone Hall, which had since put meaning behind it. Initially, Elisabeth found the order to be bittersweet; bitter in that she didn't want to use the formal terms, 'mother' and 'father', especially for people she barely knew. It was sweet because he'd ordered her to, and he'd done so when she was across his knee, so she knew if she didn't from that point on, she would be held accountable for it.
Bennett knew his parents would welcome Elisabeth referring to them as the roles they would inherit with Elisabeth's marriage to their son, and told them both briefly in very plain terms, "Elisabeth will be referring to you the same way Damian and I do, from now on. Please let me know if you don't hear it enough."
Neither of them were shocked, although Bennett's words made Evelyn a little embarrassed. It seemed rather clear what the expectation was and what the consequence would be if Elisabeth disappointed him. Jonathan had also put something in place between him and his wife; if she doesn't hear her title, she tells Jon. Jon would tell Bennett. That's how it would go.
It was fortunate for Elisabeth that her relationship with Jonathan and Evelyn had substance behind it, because it made it a lot easier to follow Bennett's instruction. She found it easier to call them 'mother' and 'father', although she often substituted 'Sir' (which was perfectly acceptable) for Jon's title if her insecurity got the better of her.
After dinner, Jonathan led Elisabeth out of the grand foyer of Greystone Hall, and with Willis watching until they reached the bottom of the front stairway, they began their stroll. Jon was quiet for the first part of the walk, although Elisabeth linked her arm in his. His tie showed prominently where his woollen formal coat had a break at the top, just like Bennett's. She found it immeasurably sweet how alike Jonathan and Bennett were, despite him denying he was anything like his father. Elisabeth knew better, and she kept it to herself with schoolgirl amusement.
"Uncle Brayden returns tomorrow," was the icebreaker.
"Yes, Sir," Elisabeth replied. She felt a little bit of disappointment at the idea of not having more of the time she'd come to expect in those couple of days, with Jon and Evelyn.
"Are you looking forward to going home?"
Elisabeth didn't actually want to answer that. She bit her lip and looked away as her eyes began to water. She sniffed, and then cleared her throat. Jon stopped walking. He took both of her shoulders gently, and waited for her to look at him. He didn't say a word when Elisabeth looked up; he just kissed her forehead, then took her hand and kept walking.
There was something in her relationship with Jonathan that she didn't have with Brayden, or even Bennett. Jonathan and Elisabeth could communicate without saying much, if anything, at all. They'd spoken through a lot of their evening strolls thus far, but neither of them forced conversation for the sake of saying something. They were a lot more alike than either of them had realised.
She went to bed that evening, having kissed both Jon and Evelyn goodnight, feeling like some of the pieces of her heart that had been dormant and lingering inside of her, found their way back to the mould.
Alice, on the other hand, frowned at Bennett as he approached.
"Aunty Evelyn doesn't even like me anymore," she lamented, as she turned onto her side.
Bennett sat down on the edge of the bed, his blazer having been removed earlier, so as to reveal a tailored waistcoat that fit his tall frame perfectly. "Aunty Evelyn adores you," he said, raising his eyebrows as he folded down the top of the duvet neatly so it didn't cover her chin.
"Then why did she spend the last three days chatting to Elisabeth all the time?"
"Mother spoke to you," he said.
"She doesn't need me anymore. It was just like when Elisabeth first came, you liked her better as well."
Bennett remembered well the first time he heard Alice admit jealously of his attention toward Elisabeth, and he'd hidden that flattery deep in his heart. Their relationship hadn't started well – at all – but it had come a long, long way.
"Darling, love isn't quite like that."
"What is it like, then?"
Bennett realised it was about to be the start of a very rare 'heart to heart'. He didn't like soul-bearing conversation, although he made the exception with Elisabeth. Even then, it was still slightly guarded because of his role. He couldn't become too sentimental so as to cause himself to lean on her, which was aptly against his views. Alice had, in the past, also been an exception in a moment that he felt was crucial to his role as her uncle. It became one of those moments.
"Look at your father. He's love."
Alice's eyes wandered up to the sweet, ruffled canopy above her head. Bennett couldn't have had his own house without a room meant for Alice, and one that he felt was appropriate for her. It was one of his favourites, and he adored seeing her lie in it.
"Your father wants the best for you, he guides you, he sets boundaries, and takes care of all of your needs. Those attributes demonstrate love."
"But how can a person actually be love?"
Bennett would have found that conversation very difficult to have with Alice, if he hadn't met Elisabeth; if they weren't engaged and about to be married. Elisabeth had been his example of love, but he kept that to himself.
"A person can be love because their thoughts and actions both point to the goal of giving beyond their own desires. If I tell Elisabeth that I love her, but do nothing to show or demonstrate that, it would be very inward and selfish. Then it becomes about me, and not about her. Love is sacrificial."
Alice nodded. Bennett had just spoken far greater wisdom than she would realise, but she would never forget his words.
"Mother loves both of you girls; but you must remember, she doesn't know Elisabeth as well as she knows you."
"One day she'll know Elisabeth better, and I won't matter anymore."
Bennett lowered the duvet and pulled Alice onto his lap.
"Love isn't envious," he said, looking at his niece. He wasn't being sentimental, he was his usual business-like self. His tall posture seemed emphasised when she sat right across his knees. "And it isn't boastful, either."
"Where do you get this stuff?" she asked, realising th
at what he was saying was profoundly different from the violent and abusive 'love' she'd grown up with, before Waldorf.
"The Bible."
Alice looked a little surprised. "Do you read it?"
"Sometimes," Bennett replied. "Your father and I had to go to chapel twice a week when we were at boarding school. Some things will always stay with me because of it."
"Does that mean I can't get angry for having to share?" Alice asked, sincerely.
"It also means you shouldn't compare your impression of love from one person to another."
"I'll take your word for it," she relented.
"You may, and you may take my word for it with the proper response."
"Yes, Sir," Alice replied.
"Good girl. Into bed," Bennett said, as he pulled the duvet down. She climbed over the layers and returned to her position beneath them.
"Uncle Bennett?"
"Yes, darling," he said, as he stood up; handsome Uncle Bennett who looked like he should be walking into a meeting, as always.
"Do you think one day I will marry someone who loves me the way you love Elisabeth?"
Bennett wouldn't allow the weight of Alice's simple question to penetrate until he left the bedroom. "Undoubtedly," he replied, with sincerity, and kissed her goodnight.
With the door closed behind him, he wiped both of his eyes, then took a slow walk to his study. Brayden's absence had certainly done more good than harm, and that conversation with Alice proved it.
When the front doors opened the following afternoon and Brayden walked in, it was precisely the reaction he expected.
"FATHER!" she shouted, and abandoning Bennett and Elisabeth, ran and threw herself at Brayden. She wrapped her legs tight around his waist, and put her arms around his neck before hiding her face in his woollen coat. Brayden held her securely and kissed her head several times as he chuckled.
"My darling girl," he said. "You're not supposed to be running, and yet this is exactly how I imagined to be welcomed home." he kissed her again.
"I miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissed youuuuuuuuuuu," she wailed dramatically.
He didn't loosen his grip even a little. "Father missed his little Alice in Wonderland."
Elisabeth looked up at Bennett and gave him an empathetic smile. It didn't hurt her to watch Brayden and Alice interact so congruently, not anymore; she had three men in her life now who each contributed what Alice got most from Brayden.
He put Alice down, and took her by the hand, so he could hug Elisabeth.
"Welcome home, Uncle Brayden," she said, after she kissed his cheek.
"Thank you, my darling," he said, as he hugged her.
"Bennett," he said, shaking his best friend's hand.
"Welcome home."
Alice didn't let go of Brayden's hand, and rather clung to him as he spoke to Wellesley. She knew they were about to all take tea in the sitting room, but obviously her father had to get the pleasantries out of the way.
"There is an extra case that Jude will bring in, and it's to go to the kitchens for Chef. I had some locally made olive oil and spices brought back for him. There are also some rare wines in there, for you to put away."
"Yes, Sir," Wellesley replied. He maintained meticulous control of Waldorf's wine cellar, which was more like a miniature store. He logged every bottle that came in, went out or was opened.
"We will take tea in the sitting room, and if you could, bring my briefcase with you."
"Yes, Sir," Wellesley said.
Alice was jumping up and down as she held onto his hand, and Brayden turned and led her toward the sitting room, with Bennett and Elisabeth following.
"All right, darling," Brayden said, his smile starting to lessen a bit. "Walk like a young lady, please."
Elisabeth couldn't help but grin; Alice's energy was delightful.
They all sat near one of the fireplaces nearest the sitting room doors, with Brayden in a leather wingchair, and Bennett and Elisabeth adjacent to him on one of the formal sofas. Alice sat on Brayden's lap and laid her head against him. She had absolutely no intention of giving him any breathing room whatsoever. At least, not for the rest of the day.
"Thank you, Wellesley," Brayden said, when the butler put the briefcase on the tall coffee table with intricate carvings, in front of them. Alice slid off his lap reluctantly, so he could lean forward and unlock the case.
"Elisabeth, this is for you," he said, as he removed a small package and handed it to his niece.
"Thank you." She smiled, and held the neatly wrapped box in her lap.
"Uncle Bennett," Brayden said, as he passed it over. Bennett gave Brayden his 'you know I don't like receiving gifts', look. "And Alice," he said, passing a neatly wrapped box to her.
"Uncle Bennett can open his first," Brayden suggested.
Bennett cleared his throat, but didn't argue. He opened a very nice navy blue linen box, and pulled out a bottle.
"46%," he remarked, raising an eyebrow. "Is this for our two-man bachelor party?"
Elisabeth chuckled, whilst Alice just stared at her gift. Brayden knew that was more of a cheeky gift than a genuine one. Bennett's hard liquor drink of choice was brandy, but it would look good in his drinks cabinet, anyway.
"All right, girls, you may open yours," Brayden said.
Elisabeth and Alice simultaneously unwrapped the ribbons and removed the lids off their boxes. They both gasped. Elisabeth pulled out a gold and genuine white coral bracelet, with a delicate little gold clasp. Bennett didn't really like Elisabeth to wear jewellery, but Brayden had her wedding day in mind when he bought it.
"Oh, it's lovely, Uncle Brayden. Thank you!" Elisabeth said, as she stepped over and kissed his cheek.
"You're welcome, darling."
Alice's reaction was to hug the doll straightaway when she pulled it out of the box. "Thank you, Father," she said, and hopped back onto his lap. She pulled the doll away from her chest and took a good look at her. She was a little doll with near olive skin tone, brown hair covered beneath a white head covering. She wore a red dress with gold trim, and had white knee socks and little black patent shoes. "Father, where did you get her?"
"In Greece."
Chapter Twenty
Anabelle had made up her mind; she was going to leave Tweed Events. One week in Dubai had done more good and reflection than she cared to admit, because she felt like a hornet who'd had her nest disturbed, as she rode the tube into work on Monday morning. She had written her resignation letter on the airplane and made a list of things she needed to do in order to keep her head above water until she found another job (which included spending a few weeks up north with her parents). That list included ringing Brayden James that evening after work, to apologise for her behaviour, and to ask him if his offer of contracting Mr. Fowler's wedding was still an option. She was ready to give Hamish one hell of an exit remark, but thought better of it. She could really do with a reference letter.
Her phone had been ringing non-stop since before she boarded the six-hour flight back to London, and she didn't touch it that evening, and she wouldn't look at it again until she was in the office. No exceptions. The office was quiet when she walked in; in fact, she found it strange that no one seemed to be in. Had Hamish finally jumped off the deep end and sacked everyone? She wouldn't put it past him.
Ana unlocked her office door and removed her black leather work tote from her shoulder. When she turned around, she nearly fell over. Who had put two dozen pink Juliet roses on her desk? And she knew they were Juliet roses because she'd coordinated enough weddings to know 'the £3 million rose' when she saw it. She put her hands over her mouth, and quietly walked to the doorway. Still not a sound, or anyone in sight. She walked to her desk and read the note, "I have some explaining to do, come to my office."
Anabelle wasn't sure if she should be horrified? Shocked? Disgusted? Or a combination of the three, which sounded something akin to dis-shockiffied. Somehow, that word seemed appropriate. There was only one person who wo
uld tell her to go to his office, and that was Hamish. Why the hell had he put not one of the £3 million roses on her desk, but two dozen. If she'd ever been scared of her boss, that day would be the top of her list so far – and she'd had plenty. He must have found out that she was quitting. She wouldn't put that past him, either. He'd gone to lengths to find out that Ana was at Alice's birthday party on her personal time, what made her think he hadn't found a way to read her mind and spy the resignation letter she typed on her laptop at 39,000 feet?
With her resignation letter in one hand, she tentatively reached for note from the flowers with her other, clammy, hand. She inhaled and then closed her eyes as she stopped in front of Hamish's office. Yes, it was a sweet gesture, but she was still quitting. Ana thought it would probably be best if she just said thank you, dropped the letter, and left. She knocked twice and then entered.
His office was clean, that was the first thing she noticed. Like, it had been stripped bare - clean. Except for his furniture. Secondly, he wasn't even facing her. The chair was turned around toward his enviable view of the city. Of course, he was the only one with huge windows in his office. Greedy git.
"Morning, Sir," she said, hoping he would at least grant her the decency to face her. Especially leaving a ridiculous display of overpriced flowers that were worth enough to feed an entire nation on her desk. Hamish was strange, but his behaviour was more strange than usual.
