Beauchamp Hall

by Danielle Steel

  “There will be lots of people out of work here shortly. They’d be grateful for the jobs,” Winnie reminded her. Beatrice nodded agreement and Winnie left a minute later. After she left, in the distance, Winnie saw Freddie cantering toward the hills on a white horse. He looked like a good omen. She thought about it as she headed back to Edward’s trailer. There were parts of her life now, in fact all of it, that felt like someone else’s life, surely not hers. Titled aristocrats and movie stars, castles and hit TV shows. It still took her breath away at times. But Beatrice Haversham seemed almost normal to her, down-to-earth, and practical. She had listened intently to Winnie.

  In the family side of the castle, Beatrice was pouring herself a cup of tea and shaking her head, wondering if fate had just saved them again, or was it all too absurd?

  Chapter Thirteen

  New scripts appeared daily on the set now to try to wind down the series to a satisfying conclusion. Viewers had to be pleased, mysteries solved, Matthew didn’t want to leave anyone hanging, but to wrap everything up neatly. It took new scripts and storylines to do it, and learning all the new lines was challenging for the actors and confusing for everyone, even the crew. Nothing was going according to previous plans. Scenes were being shot in different places, costumes were changed. The costumers were going crazy trying to keep up and remaking old dresses from previous seasons. The producers wanted to maintain the same high standards to the bitter end.

  Winnie was studying one of Edward’s new scripts in the trailer, when her cellphone rang, it was Beatrice Haversham. She was surprised to hear from her for a minute. It was two days after their meeting, and Winnie was beginning to assume that they had decided she was crazy and had no interest in any of her ideas. It was entirely possible and she wouldn’t blame them.

  “Is this a bad time?” Beatrice asked her.

  “No, it’s fine.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call you yesterday. Would you have time to come by and talk to us sometime today? My brother’s going to London tomorrow, and I never know when he’ll get back.”

  “I could come by after work,” Winnie said softly, she didn’t want to disturb Edward, who was trying to learn new lines, only a few feet away.

  “Perfect. We’ll have tea together. Six o’clock?” which Winnie knew meant a light dinner at that hour.

  “See you then,” she said and hung up.

  She was hurrying out of the trailer at five to six when she saw Nigel coming toward her. He caught up with her a minute later.

  “Do you want to go to dinner with me now?”

  “I can’t,” she said, looking apologetic. “I’ve got an appointment. I don’t know what time I’ll be finished. I can call you.”

  “Never mind,” he said, annoyed. “Who’s the appointment with?”

  “The Havershams,” she said simply.

  “The bloke with the Bugattis?”

  “And his sister.”

  “What for?” He was suspicious.

  “I had an idea they want to talk to me about.”

  “See you tomorrow,” he said, turned on his heel, and left, and she didn’t chase after him. She didn’t want to be late for Beatrice and Freddie. She rang the bell at the door three minutes later, after she walked around the castle to their private entrance. The bell system was the same one that had existed there for over a hundred years and they used on the show. It still functioned, with occasional repairs. Beatrice opened the door a few minutes later. She was wearing jeans and a sweater and short riding boots. She and her brother both spent a lot of time on horses.

  She walked Winnie into a small sitting room after following a circuitous route down a back hallway. It was the room Beatrice used as an office, and was a combination library and sitting room, with a fireplace and two comfortable couches, and several big leather chairs. The room was cozy, and her desk was piled high with papers. She handled all of their accounts with the production company, and kept track of all the schedules for the shoot, and which rooms they’d be using when, so there was never a conflict.

  “Sit down,” she said warmly to Winnie. “I’ll be back in a flash.” She reappeared a moment later with an enormous, ornate, antique silver tea tray, piled high with plates of scones and clotted cream, impeccable tea sandwiches of chicken, egg salad, cucumber, watercress, a silver tea pot, three cups, china, and silver. It looked like a scene from Beauchamp Hall, and worthy of the fanciest home, hotel, or restaurant. It smelled delicious, and as soon as Beatrice set it down, her brother appeared in jeans and a T-shirt.

  “Are we meeting in here?” he asked his sister. “Who made the tea?” He looked impressed too.

  “I did. Sit down. We have a lot to talk about.” She passed Winnie the plate of sandwiches and Winnie took one of each. Freddie helped himself to several, while his sister poured tea and handed Winnie a delicate cup with a linen napkin and silver spoon. The light meal, the silver and china were a civilized relic of a bygone era.

  Once they were all served, Beatrice addressed Winnie. “We’ve been talking about your ideas, and some of them are quite mad and positively frightening, but very interesting. We’re wondering how much of it would really be possible, and how much manpower and expertise it would take. We don’t have a big staff here. This isn’t Beauchamp Hall.” She smiled.

  “I don’t think it would take a lot of people, and you could hire the ones you’d need. What part of the dream appealed to you?”

  “The mystery weekends,” Freddie said, smiling, helping himself to more sandwiches and his sister gave him a quelling look.

  “The weddings first,” Beatrice intervened. “I never thought of it before, but I think weddings could be quite marvelous here. We’d have to limit the number of guests, of course, but God knows we’ve got all the china and crystal and silver we’d need. And I suppose we’d have to know who the people are, so we know they’re not the sort to steal the silverware.”

  “The bridal family could make a security deposit, as part of the price. You could design packages money-wise, depending on size and how elaborate they want it, and additional fees if they stay here or not. You could even provide a hairdresser and makeup artist, manicurist, everything they’d need. It could be very lucrative. You could hire someone just to do weddings,” Winnie suggested.

  “I could do it myself,” Beatrice said thoughtfully. “We’ve all seen how they do it on the set. I think I could pull off a creditable wedding. I’ve never had one myself, but I’ve been to enough.”

  “I could masquerade as a priest,” Freddie interjected. “Then the wedding wouldn’t be legal, and they wouldn’t have to bother getting divorced if it doesn’t work out later.”

  “You are not being helpful.” His sister glared at him. “And I loved your idea about buying wedding gowns and costumes from the production company when they leave. It could be very glamorous, and I think we have a few in the attic also.”

  “They might give them to you for free,” Winnie said thoughtfully. “And you should probably have an assistant to help you with the weddings, a young local girl. Do you know a good caterer?”

  “Actually, I do,” Beatrice said. “And they’re not very dear. I think our doing weddings here is a fantastic idea. We could advertise in bridal magazines, or some newspapers. Maybe British Vogue. I think we should keep it high-end, so it’s something people are begging to do. Their dream wedding.”

  “I completely agree,” Winnie said, pleased that her idea had spawned something useful for them. She liked Beatrice and she thought her brother was funny. “You’ll need a florist and a photographer, and a calligrapher. And catering staff of course.”

  “What about the mystery weekends? Do you think we could actually pull that off? I’ve never been to one.” Beatrice was intrigued.

  “I have.” Freddie leapt in. “It was amazing. I loved it. I was the murderer twice, and no one gues
sed me.” He described what it had been like, and it sounded less complicated than the weddings.

  “Someone will have to write the script. I can barely write a letter.” Winnie nodded in response to what Beatrice said.

  “And we like the idea for the Beauchamp museum. The rooms with the video screens showing scenes from the series is brilliant. They’ll eat it up, and it will keep the spirit of the show alive for tourists who come here. And the gift shop is incredibly vulgar, but they’ll probably like that too. We’ll likely need the show’s permission to sell the merchandise, but we can split the profits with the studio if we have to. And we’d need someone in the gift shop, again some nice young girl from the village. What kind of staff do you think we’d need to do all this?”

  Winnie thought about it for a minute. “Would you both be working on it?” She glanced cautiously at Freddie.

  “Yes,” Beatrice said immediately. “I’d do the weddings. Freddie can do the mysteries. And I can manage the museum. Freddie is good with technical issues, like the video. It would be full-time work for both of us.” She glanced meaningfully at her brother, who nodded.

  “You could get one girl to help with the weddings, and another one to handle the gift shop. You need a technical person to set up the videos in the rooms on the tour, but you can hire an outside firm for that. You can do a lot with independent contractors, like the caterer. I think two willing young local girls would do it at first. You can always add another person later, if you need it. If you’re both willing to do the work, you don’t need much staff. And someone would have to keep the costumes straight, but you could do that,” she spoke to Beatrice again.

  “I know a nice seamstress in the village who could do fittings for us, and her husband is a tailor,” Beatrice volunteered, and then she frowned again. “I had another thought. People have been watching the show for years. There’s a very convincing butler on it, and houses like this are expected to have one. I was thinking that we should hire a butler, not a real one, but someone to act as one. He could even help with the tours.”

  “I can play the butler,” Freddie said happily. He was enjoying the fantasy immensely, and smiled several times at Winnie.

  “You cannot play the butler,” his sister said firmly. “You’re the marquess, you can’t be the butler. We need someone who looks the part.” Winnie nodded, thinking. She agreed with Beatrice if they were going to re-enact something close to Beauchamp Hall and put on a real show for visitors or wedding guests, and then she had an idea.

  “Do you know Rupert with the food truck in the square?” Freddie smiled when she said it.

  “I went to school with him in the village for a year before I went to Eton. He’s a good chap. He gives me free bangers whenever I see him. Actually, he’d be perfect.”

  “Brilliant,” Beatrice approved. “Do you think he’d do it?”

  “He was telling me last week that he’s going to have to sell his food truck when the show closes, and go back to being a chimney sweep, which he hates,” Winnie explained.

  “I’d forgotten about that,” Freddie said sympathetically. “I’m sure he’d rather be a butler than go around with soot on his face.” It didn’t sound like a fun job to Winnie either.

  “I can ask him,” Winnie said politely. She had made notes of several of the things Beatrice had mentioned. She had to hire two young girls to help her. And they needed to inquire about buying wedding dresses and costumes for weddings and mystery weekends. Haversham was a perfect venue for them. “We can also buy period gowns at auctions if we have to.” Beatrice nodded agreement. They were thinking of every detail.

  “And now for the horrible part,” Beatrice said, looking at Winnie. “I can’t even bear the thought of turning our home into a reality show, and my parents and grandparents would roll over in their graves, but I have a feeling there could be some real money in it. I hear that those shows can make a fortune. Do you suppose there’s some way we could do it, without having them film us in the bathtub, or cooking breakfast in our underwear, or fighting with each other to keep them happy? We don’t either of us have any ‘love children’ to produce to shock them. But maybe if they filmed a wedding or a mystery weekend and the preparations for it, it would satisfy them. Some of the brides might love it.” She looked pained as she said it.

  “From what I hear, there’s some real money in it,” Winnie said. “I understand your hesitation, but commercially speaking, it would feed the wedding business and mystery weekends. People would be begging to come here, better yet if they could be on the show.” Beatrice groaned at what she said, and leaned back against the couch, as her brother looked at her.

  “Don’t be such a snob, Bea,” her brother accused her. “If we want to stay here and keep the place going, we have to be smart about it. And they can film me in the bathtub, if they insist, or driving a Bugatti naked. It’s all for God and Country.” He said it nobly, and all three of them laughed.

  “Do you know anyone who produces those reality shows?” she asked Winnie.

  “No, but I can find out. I’m sure someone on the crew knows who they are.”

  “I have another important question,” Beatrice said, jotting something down on her list. “How soon do you think we have to start putting all this together?”

  “Yesterday,” Winnie said without hesitation. “I think you should try to open by Christmas. That gives you almost four months to get everything in order and ready to roll. I think you can do it by then, if you start now. There actually isn’t much preparation, because you have everything right here already, and you don’t need a lot of staff. And the rooms they’ve been using for the show are camera ready now.” Both Havershams were in agreement. It sounded feasible to them too.

  “And one more thing,” Beatrice added, looking shyly at Winnie. “We can’t do this on our own, and it was your idea. We’d like you to be our creative director.”

  “Me?” Winnie looked shocked. She hadn’t expected to include herself in the deal when she suggested it to them. She just did it to help, because she felt bad about their being left high and dry by the show being canceled, and she liked Beatrice when she’d met her. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

  “Neither have we, and you’ve worked on the show. You’ve seen how these things work.”

  “So have you,” Winnie said modestly. “You don’t really need me. You can run with the idea without me.”

  “Now, hear, hear,” Freddie said to Winnie in a firm voice. “You can’t just hallucinate this kind of thing, dump it in our laps, and then just leave us to it. We’ll muck it all up. Or I will, certainly.”

  “You might,” his sister said to him. “I’m not going to muck up a damn thing.” And then she turned to Winnie. “But we do need you. I think your ideas are fantastic, and we’re grateful to you. Would you consider being partners with us? We could split the profits three ways.” Winnie was stunned and didn’t know what to say, but it sounded exciting and fun and like a whole other chapter after her months hanging around the show. It was another dream coming true.

  “I did some writing in college, I could try writing the scripts for the mystery weekends,” she said hesitantly, “and see if you like them.”

  “The whole thing is your idea. If you hadn’t suggested it, we’d never have thought of it, and we’d be broke again in six months.”

  “We might be anyway, if it doesn’t work,” Freddie said realistically, but it had the potential to become a real moneymaker and they could all sense it. She looked at them both for a moment. She had nothing to lose. And all three of them were excited to try it.

  “I’ll do it,” she said, smiling at both of them. “I’d love to! Thank you for asking me.”

  “And if it doesn’t work, we’ll sell the house and all go live in the Caribbean together,” Freddie suggested.

  “Let’s hope that doesn’t happe
n,” Beatrice said with feeling. “So what do we do now?” Beatrice looked at her list, as Winnie glanced at her own.

  “You start looking for two girls in the village,” Winnie said. “Freddie, will you talk to Rupert and ask him about being the butler? And I think Beatrice and I should talk to Michael Waterman about the costumes as soon as possible. I think we should do it together. He’s very impressed by you and your title.” She looked at Beatrice. “Should I be calling you Lady Beatrice all the time?” She wasn’t sure, and Freddie answered the question.

  “Yes, and you have to curtsy to her whenever you see her.”

  “Oh, shut up,” his sister said to him. “Of course not. Beatrice or Bea is fine. But Freddie should always be ‘His Lordship’ when others are around, so visitors are impressed that they’re in the presence of a marquess. We can charge more for that.” She grinned.

  “Maybe we should tell them I’m a duke and charge them even more. ‘Marquess Masquerades as Duke in Wake of Beauchamp Hall Scandal….’ ”

  “You don’t need the producers’ permission to run the museum, since the show is part of Haversham’s history now, and the life of the castle. We can ask them for film clips, though.”

  “I think we’ve made some amazing progress,” Beatrice said, looking pleased. It was nine o’clock at night, and they had covered a lot of ground in three hours. They had a partnership, and a plan, and a fledgling business.

  “I hope it’s a huge success,” Winnie said sincerely, as Freddie disappeared, then returned a minute later with a bottle of champagne and popped the cork. He poured it into three glasses he’d brought with it, and they each raised a glass.

  “To Haversham Castle and the three musketeers!” Freddie toasted them and they took the first sip of the champagne.

  “I can’t wait to get started,” Winnie admitted. She wasn’t even out of one job yet, and she already had another, and it was a way of holding on to the last memories of Beauchamp Hall. Her DVDs in the white elephant game the year before had changed her whole life. And the next chapter had just begun.