by Bella Bryce
“Not really. I’m hosting,” Bennett said, looking up from his phone.
Brayden frowned. “No, Bennett—”
“Yes, Bennett,” he replied. “It was my fault all this came out and it’s my gift to you. We’ll have it at Waldorf, but I’m hosting. That means I pay.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, that’s a £20,000 gift,” Brayden said.
“It’ll have to be more than that if I want to outdo the last one.”
“Bennett,” Brayden started. “I’m writing you a cheque, then,” he said, and reached inside of his blazer as he put his cup and saucer on the table between them.
“That’s fine, I’ll have it shredded.”
Brayden paused. “You are really stubborn, does Elisabeth know that?” he said, removing his hand from his inside pocket.
“She’ll soon find out. Now, I don’t want to hear another word about it. My being in charge really means I will hire and delegate to everybody else. Get Alice’s dress sorted with Harriet and a new tuxedo; everything else will be taken care of. All right? I’ll let you know when Ana and I need to come by and do a walk through.”
Brayden sat back against the sofa. “I don’t need another tuxedo. But yes, I understand.”
“Good, it’s settled.” Bennett locked his iPhone and slid it into his blazer.
Returning home to Waldorf had never felt so whole; it was more meaningful than his ride away from it. Brayden knew another small piece of whatever had been taken from him in the loss of his parents had been stitched back in place. He thought about the ball and how Alice would look getting fitted for her first ball dress, to see her face light up as she watched the manor being decorated and how contractors, caterers and wait staff would fill the estate in the days before.
Whilst Brayden was growing up at Waldorf, it was always an exciting time when Oliver and Kathryn hired the agency. Some of his best memories on school holidays were watching the house buzz as people came and went during the preparations.
“Thank you, Wellesley,” Brayden said, upon returning through the front doors.
“Did you have a nice drive, Sir?” Wellesley asked. He had been Oliver James' butler and confidant for many years before his death so the loss had been a blow just as devastating for Wellesley, and seeing Brayden return from driving his father’s car was unspeakably meaningful.
“Yes,” Brayden said, giving Wellesley a bit of a smile. “I'm ready for my coffee now,” he added, walking across the foyer toward the dining room. The drive in his father's car had done Brayden a lot of good.
Chapter Eight
Elisabeth stood still; she was very weary of needles. Harriet was a professional and wouldn’t have stuck her, but Elisabeth was securely fastened inside various pieces of material held together by countless pins. It could happen.
“How are you liking this length, Bennett?” Harriet asked, as she put the last pin from her wrist cushion into the back panel of the dress.
She stepped away from Elisabeth, who was up on the circular stand Harriet brought to every private fitting. Bennett stood with his hands behind his back, looking Elisabeth up and down as she stood patiently. He had abandoned his blazer earlier and wore his pressed white shirt with the creases down the sleeves beneath a very tailored navy blue waistcoat, navy blue tie with gold crests marching across it and matching trousers. Elisabeth could barely keep herself standing when she looked at Bennett, especially when he wore navy blue.
“Much better,” he told Harriet. “Because we wouldn’t want you wearing a floor length gown, now would we? You’re not completely grown up,” Bennett said to Elisabeth quietly, with a look that nearly made her fall right off the stand.
Bennett noticed that his words had made her blush and he put one hand in his pocket. Elisabeth would have liked to have kissed him, but that was not the time. Pity. She really wanted to. She would have even stepped down from the stand even though the result would have been severe pokage from stickpins because Bennett was driving her mad with his formality. As usual.
“And I think, with the bustle on her hip, it gives enough length on one side to get the point across,” Bennett said, changing his tone to make it clear that Harriet was the receiver of his commenting.
Harriet approached after having a good look at Elisabeth from a distance.
“Yes, I thought that was the case. You’ve got one side, which hangs almost to her ankles and is appropriate for her age and you’ve got the other side that is a bit shorter, which is what you wanted. How about the top? I rather like the cap sleeves.”
“That is very cheeky, Harriet, I wanted her in long sleeves at this time of year,” Bennett said, giving the designer he’d known most of his life a raised eyebrow.
Harriet had been the personal seamstress and designer for both Evelyn Fowler and Kathryn James. Harriet had also altered all of Bennett and Brayden’s school uniforms and several of their formal suits from when they were boys. Harriet was old enough to be both of their mothers, but she usually felt like she was under their authority for how sophisticated they were. She felt like a child around them most of the time, even though she was a successful, highly acclaimed and very stylish designer in her forties.
“Those sleeves did nothing for her delicate shoulders, Bennett. Elisabeth has a small frame with slender arms – I wanted to show them off.”
“I don’t want her being shown off. I prefer them tucked away beneath long sleeves.”
Harriet looked at Bennett.
“I like the cap sleeves,” Elisabeth said. She looked down at her shoulders and then up at Bennett. “May I keep them?”
He looked at Harriet and then Elisabeth.
“Both of you should learn to do as you’re told,” he said, turning away. “You may keep them, but only if Harriet is going to include a pair of long gloves. I don’t want you catching cold at the ball.”
Elisabeth smiled at Harriet, who pulled her glasses down from her head and onto the end of her nose. “That’s a first,” she said quietly to Elisabeth, extracting a huge grin from her.
After the fitting, Bennett and Elisabeth had luncheon in the dining room. It was only a week until Brayden’s twenty-ninth birthday ball and the atmosphere at both Barton-Court and Waldorf Manor was ecstatic when talk came from either Elisabeth or Alice. Elisabeth had never been to a ball or a formal party in her life and the feelings of inadequacy had already begun to creep in.
Bennett replaced his wine glass beyond his plate and looked up. “Are you worried about the ball?” he asked, reading Elisabeth’s pensive look.
She looked at him as though she wasn’t quite sure. “Sort of.”
“You’ll be fine, darling,” Bennett replied casually.
“That’s easy for you to say, you’ve been to countless parties like this. The only ones I’ve been to are in my daydreams,” she replied.
“You’ll be on my arm the entire time, I won’t let you out of my sight. If anything is said that even sounds like rudeness toward you, I will set the record straight. Although, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Brayden and I have some very lovely people in our circle. Many of them are far too polite to ask those kinds of questions anyway.”
“What about when they ask us how we met? You know they will.”
Bennett sat back in his dining chair and brought his wine glass with him. “I have no intention of lying, if that’s what you’re inferring, Elisabeth. If I’m asked how we met, I will tell them I met you whilst seeking to be your disciplinarian.”
Elisabeth let out an embarrassed laugh and looked up at Bennett. “Oh please, please don’t say those things,” she asked, unsure if she should laugh or if she should cry as she put her elbows on the table and covered her face.
“We’ve had this discussion before, the one about being true to yourself, the day you got your hair cut and I recall it didn’t end well for you,” he said. “You need to let go of how insecure you feel about other people’s petty opinions.”
Elisabeth’s
face remained in her hands and she moaned.
“Sit up properly and take your elbows off the table,” Bennett said, as he swallowed his wine and replaced the glass above his plate.
Surely, having lived at Barton-Court for two weeks prior, then moving to Waldorf Manor where the expectation was the same and courting Bennett for another two weeks – Elisabeth should have known beyond a doubt that elbows on tables did not happen in either house. She also should have known that Bennett was many things and one of them was strangely confident in his identity.
Alice James had no reservations about the ball and spoke of nothing else since the evening Brayden told her there would be one.
Harriet had arrived just after leaving Barton-Court earlier that afternoon and showed Brayden the sketches of Alice’s dress she’d done based on his email. Brayden and Harriet leant in toward each other as she explained the interpretation of his idea whilst Alice stood before them both, her hands clasped in front of her plum velvet dress with an ivory lace collar, cream knit tights and plum patent shoes. She hadn’t seen the sketches and she was about to impolitely insist someone include her, although she thought better of it.
“All right darling, can you get onto the pedestal so the girls can measure you?” Harriet asked, glancing up at her assistants, Kate and Maggie.
Her assistants went everywhere with her; they were extremely fortunate to have gotten the roles of seamstress interns with Harriet. More than 2,000 girls applied for the role, but about half of those were just fans and didn’t actually have an interest in a career.
Brayden glanced at Alice, who clearly had wanted to see the sketches; and it was showing in her posture and the way she walked to the stand. The way any disappointed child walked – with attitude. His eyes followed her across and she caught that warning look from Brayden that was enough to correct both her posture and frown.
Kate and Maggie began measuring Alice and were more like doting older sisters as they spoke gently to her. Both of Harriet’s assistants knew that Alice was eighteen years old, and that Brayden had adopted her and wanted her viewed as a ten-year-old child. Kate and Maggie learned of that earlier in the year when Brayden hosted Alice’s first piano recital at Waldorf for a small group of friends who’d watched her settle into life with Brayden. Kate and Maggie had been invited because they were part of the team that worked for Harriet on Alice’s bespoke wardrobe. They’d been involved in the making of every single one of her dresses, skirts, pinafores, shirts, cardigans and nightclothes. They also made her recital dress, so Brayden felt they should attend. Kate and Maggie were intrigued to learn that Alice, whom they’d met on her first fitting after moving to Waldorf, was not chronologically ten years old, but actually only a couple of years their junior.
Any adverse opinions that either of them held on the subject wouldn’t have been welcomed, considering Harriet’s relationship with the James family and that they were her employees. They were paid to take measurements and assist her in bespoke clothing design, and nothing more. Alice was a pleasant girl and settled enough in her place as Brayden’s daughter that they found it hard to believe she wasn’t ten years old and they thoroughly enjoyed her charming disposition. She had changed quite a bit since they last saw her six months earlier for another fitting when Brayden wanted a second lot of dresses added to her wardrobe.
“Are you skipping dessert, Miss Alice?” Kate, the pretty twenty-one-year-old with long brown hair, asked as she poked her head around Alice’s shoulder. “You’ve lost an inch around your waist.”
Alice glanced back at Kate and gave a grin. “No, I love dessert.”
“You have,” Kate replied, measuring Alice a second time to be sure. “It’s 22, Mags.”
Alice glanced over at Brayden and Harriet as they looked through a book of swatches.
“Well, don’t say anything to my father, please. He gets worried about everything,” Alice said.
Kate glanced at Harriet and then back at Alice, “As long as Harriet doesn’t make me,” then smiled.
The girls finished measuring and stepped aside as Harriet pinned the pre-cut pieces onto Alice. Brayden was still looking through the swatch book to find a contrasting colour for the sash.
“All right, darling, could you stand up nice and straight for me, pet? Good girl,” Harriet said, as she stood back and looked at the pieces as they hung across Alice’s petite frame. “Kate, can you tighten the back panels? It’s loose where it should be snug around her waist.”
Kate gave Alice a look and then did so. Brayden walked to Harriet with the swatch book and showed her the two colours he’d chosen and looked up at Alice. “Darling, you look lovely,” he said, and walked up to where she stood on the circular pedestal.
“It isn’t finished yet, Father, it’s just a bunch of material right now. Sorry, Harriet,” Alice said.
Harriet smiled and replaced her glasses on the end of her nose to inspect the colours he’d chosen in her book.
“I get the idea; it’s a tiered organza ball gown with a satin top and bodice,” Brayden said.
Harriet looked up and smiled. “Cherish your father, Alice, not many girls would have heard that response,” she said, returning to the swatch book.
Alice certainly didn’t take it for granted.
“Who’s coming to your birthday party, Father?” Alice asked that evening at dinner.
“The same people who went to Uncle Bennett’s dinner party at Barton-Court in September and a few others. Unfortunately, I turned over any authority I had of the guest list when I agreed to let him host,” Brayden said. “So I’m sure there will be a few surprises.”
Alice instantly thought back to Bennett’s housewarming dinner party three months earlier and remembered the group of former Prefects from their boarding school – most of whom couldn’t stop staring at Alice.
“Will you get lots of presents?” she asked, her expression turning to excitement.
“That’s usually how it turns out,” Brayden replied, as though he wasn’t terribly keen on that aspect of a birthday ball.
“My present to you is so big that I can’t wrap it,” she said casually.
Brayden looked over at Alice. “You don’t have to get me anything, darling. You’re my present,” he said, giving her a small wink.
“Yes, I do, it’s the last year of your twenties; that alone can depress a man.”
Brayden sat back against his chair. “Thank you for that, darling.”
Alice gave him a big smile and then carried on eating.
“Really now, if you need to go into town for anything, I will get Celia or Uncle Bennett to take you.”
“Honestly, Father, it can’t be wrapped,” Alice replied, and then avoided eye contact. She might tell Brayden his present if she was too tempted. Alice was beside herself ecstatic that she’d been able to even think of something to give the first man she’d come to know as her father and a billionaire who had everything. It had to be unique and special enough that no matter how his birthday ball unfolded that year, he would never forget her gift. She stole away after luncheon to work on it when Brayden went to the first floor library for reading. Alice also left Wellesley with strict instructions to alert her “the absolute, immediate moment he finished, please.” Wellesley, of course, told the lady of the house that he would oblige and that he would be sharp about it.
“Very good, Wellesley. I can always count on you,” Alice said.
The loyal and professional butler had given his employer’s daughter a polite smile, but inside his heart swelled. Alice had managed to charm him since her arrival and despite the short time of her presence compared to how long he’d been there, Wellesley couldn’t imagine Waldorf without Alice.
At Barton-Court house, Bennett and Elisabeth played chess after her dress fitting. They had a walk and afternoon tea followed by a long, drawn out discussion about their childhoods. Bennett tended to ask most of the questions or let Elisabeth speak. He had no shame about his own childhood, but his upb
ringing seemed rather obvious considering it was what motivated his adulthood. They sat inward on the sofa, Bennett with his always perfect posture beneath his three-piece suit quietly making Elisabeth giddy. She had a habit of looking down and smiling, which Bennett had captured in his mind and he could visit anytime he missed her. He wouldn’t tell her such things so early in their courtship, but he very much felt them.
Their conversation was quite detailed, yet gentle, accompanied by tea and the crackling fire nearby as their voices layered questions and responses. They had already spent several full days together from breakfast until dinner, but the time was quality and full of intimate, deepening conversation. It always started small and polite and gradually became meaningful and vulnerable in the way only such conversations can.
Bennett’s decision to withhold excessive physical affection was a demonstration of gentlemanly restraint and respect for Elisabeth. He always greeted and departed from her with two kisses and held her hand when they walked. Bennett would sometimes softly kiss her cheek or her forehead, but he was selective about kissing Elisabeth on the lips for more than a few seconds – it wasn’t fair to go there and then pull away – for either of them.
Once in a while Elisabeth would make a move, which often produced a raised eyebrow look from Bennett. She loved that raised eyebrow and she loved his tall stature in his suit and the threat of a trip to his study. Inside, she giggled and skipped to the tune of those words, but on the outside she was quiet, shy and usually only offered a coy smile.
Before Bennett was to take Elisabeth back to Waldorf for dinner that evening, he received a phone call from his mother. Evelyn asked if he would reconsider allowing Elisabeth to attend her ladies luncheon, which rather infuriated Bennett considering he had been adamantly clear about his reasoning. He had every intention to mention it to his father when he next saw him. He also wanted to respectfully suggest that he step up his leading in their marriage. It had been over thirty years and Jonathan Fowler had been in the backseat for far too long. Evelyn Fowler didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’. Nor would she, unless someone taught her what it meant.
