by Bella Bryce
Ana turned and walked to the windows, stopping to look out onto the estate and woodland in the distance. She smiled warmly when she thought about Kathryn James; they’d spent many weeks together preparing for Brayden’s birthday parties each year. Kathryn always asked her to come back to Waldorf and it was the first year Ana had planned it without her, having last seen her on that fateful day. The thought brought a tear to her eye as she stayed facing the window. If she turned, she feared she might see a ghost of Kathryn James standing there in her bespoke dress, her thick hair softly framing her face. She had a kind voice and a small stature that was elegant in her high heels.
Ana hadn’t given herself time to grieve the loss of one of her best clients, but it seemed to happen naturally in the ballroom where they’d spent most of their time together discussing plans, blocking out where the orchestra would go. Every year they discussed moving things around and every year it stayed the same. They’d had lunch together in the conservatory one day, the year of Brayden’s 23rd birthday. Ana was overworked and still a junior at the agency and Kathryn told her they wouldn’t be working the rest of the day, but they would spend it at the spa. Ana politely refused, knowing she could lose her job if it was discovered that she’d bunked off work to play with a client.
“I hired you to help plan my son’s birthday and I find my creativity flows best when I’m having a massage and a pedicure,” she’d said, with a smile.
Ana closed her eyes as she recalled the memory of Kathryn and how deeply she knew she had cared for people. Not just people who were her staff or temporary contractors like Ana, but everyone. She took a moment to grieve Kathryn, allowing several tears to stream down her face.
Brayden watched Ana’s posture; her arms loosely crossed over her chest and her lace pencil skirt and tailored blouse neatly framed in the light of the window. If he hadn’t any tact, he would have told Ana she looked as though she belonged at Waldorf standing there in his ballroom. Tell her to stay. He wouldn’t have actually told her to stay, but he wanted to. He felt as though he were looking at someone who belonged at Waldorf beside him.
Ana sniffed and wiped her eyes discretely, believing she was still alone.
“I beg your pardon,” Brayden said, concerned as he realised whilst he’d been staring at her, she had been crying.
Ana was caught off-guard and dabbed at her eyes quickly. “Mr. James,” she said, managing a small laugh. “I’m sorry, I thought you were out for a walk.”
Brayden walked straight to her and offered his handkerchief. “Don’t apologise,” he said quietly.
Ana accepted his handkerchief and Brayden watched as she lightly wiped around her eyes.
“Have I upset you?” He was clearly concerned.
Ana shook her head and put her hand out toward him ensuring she didn’t touch his arm, but she desperately wanted to. “No,” she replied. “Not at all. Please, it’s nothing.” She managed a smile. “This is terribly inappropriate, I apologise.”
Brayden’s face was serious and genuine, just as she remembered Kathryn’s to be when she was concerned.
“I don’t find tears to be inappropriate,” Brayden replied.
Ana smiled again and blotted the corner of one eye. “Thank you, Mr. James,” Ana said as she looked back at him.
“I would like to be of comfort, if I may,” Brayden offered.
Ana smiled and shook her head. “You’ve been too kind already.”
“Anabelle,” he started. She wanted to crumble into a heap on the floor when he said her name.
“I was thinking of your mother,” she whispered, barely able to say the words for fear she might upset Brayden. She hoped he wouldn’t be offended at the mention.
Brayden’s face didn’t change and he looked down at the polished ballroom floor, his hands in his suit trouser pockets. When Brayden met Ana’s eyes, there was a comforting look in them.
“You admired her,” he offered.
Ana nodded. “I can’t tell you how much.” She managed a polite shrug of her shoulders.
He watched Ana wipe the corner of one eye again with his handkerchief. He wanted to ask for details, but knew better; it was not his place to inquire.
“May I ask what made you think of her?” he asked gently.
“This ballroom,” she replied, glancing up at the ceiling and around the beautiful, vast space.
Brayden smiled as he watched Ana look around. He could see her playing out various memories in her mind, but it came to a stop when she met his eyes.
“Well, I was grateful to have known her. Thank you, Mr. James,” Ana said, offering his handkerchief to him. He accepted it only because he had no business telling a girl to keep his monogrammed handkerchief unless he’d spoken to her about a relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to let her keep it if nothing was to become of them. But he wanted her to keep it anyway.
“Did you still want to see me before I leave?” she asked.
Brayden had fully intended to speak to her privately in his study but his original intentions seemed altered by the vulnerable moment they’d shared. “Would you like to stay for dinner this evening?” He found himself asking.
Ana couldn’t hide her pleasant surprise and smiled, “That would be lovely, Mr. James. Thank you.”
“Please, call me Brayden. I’m only Mr. James when you’re planning next year’s ball,” he told her, with a smile. He would have added, ‘and I’m ‘Sir’ when you’re in trouble, young lady,’ if he had the guts, but it would have been entirely inappropriate. That conversation would have to wait until he knew for a fact that Anabelle Grayson was one of many things, the first being that she was his. And he feared that conversation might never occur.
“Brayden, then,” Ana replied with a smile.
“I was told in no uncertain terms that Alice would petition to change her position in this house to ‘sullen teenager, effective immediately’ if you didn’t stay for dinner. Not that I am unprepared for it, but thank you,” Brayden said, as they turned and began walking across the ballroom floor.
Ana’s laughter reached every corner of the ballroom and caused Brayden to chuckle with her.
He was glad he’d caught her in a moment of vulnerability; perhaps if she’d met him in the study, there would have been no tears and their conversation wouldn’t have gone the path it had in the ballroom. Brayden was glad his mother had been who she was, both for Ana’s fond memories and for the one that had momentarily drawn them together.
Alice had been in the library doing her reading when she heard voices in the corridor. She sat in front of the large, ceiling-high windows draped across the seat of the leather wing chair with her head over one end and her tights and patent shoes hanging over the other. Alice immediately swung around, put her feet on the floor and carried on reading as if she’d always been sitting in that position.
“This is the library. Alice is just doing her reading,” Brayden’s voice was heard as they entered the library. “You’ve seen the Disney film Beauty and the Beast?” he asked, leading her toward the centre of the room.
“Yes.” Ana smiled, as she realised Waldorf’s library was nearly the exact replica of the one from the film.
“My mother loved books and my father loved unique architecture.”
“And I imagine their son loved Disney films,” Ana offered.
Brayden smiled his normal smile without realising how alluring it was.
“Miss Grayson,” Alice called excitedly, as she appeared from behind the wing chair. No one had been able to see her hiding where she sat in it. Alice closed her book and hurried over to where they stood.
“Miss Greyson is staying for dinner, darling. I’m giving her a bit of a tour until then.”
“Can I come?” Alice asked.
Brayden looked at his watch then back at his daughter. “You’ve got half an hour left.”
Alice declined to make a face of displeasure, especially in front of a guest. Brayden would have been quick to pull her into t
he corridor and discipline her if she embarrassed him.
“What is it you’re reading, Alice?” Anabelle asked.
“The Count of Monte Cristo,” she replied. “And let me tell you, there are some seriously poorly behaved gentlemen in this novel. Revenge is rampant. Father, you might want to reconsider the kind of influence this supposed classic might have on me,” Alice said.
Brayden exhaled an amused breath and stroked her curls at the back of her head. “Perhaps I wish you to have such an opinion of those gentlemen. I think it’s having just the right effect on you,” he said, looking down at her.
“You know best,” Alice replied, then excused herself and returned to the wing chair to carry on reading.
Brayden led Anabelle out of the library and down the corridor.
She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Alice is quite a charming girl,” she said, shaking her head, with her hand over her heart.
Brayden smiled and nodded. “She’s definitely one of a kind. I wish I could take credit, but my DNA has nothing to do with it,” he said, as he opened the next door down the wood-panelled corridor.
The formality of the corridors made Ana feel as though she were back at her old private school. Thoughts of her schooldays continued as Brayden opened the carved wooden door to a rather surprising sight.
“And this was my schoolroom,” he said, stepping inside.
Ana was rather surprised to find an entire Victorian-esque schoolroom before her eyes. There was a wooden-framed blackboard on the front wall, to the right of where she and Brayden stood. A beautiful mahogany wardrobe stood proudly to the left of the blackboard and a matching, somewhat imposing desk in front of it. There were also six individual Victorian school desks in two rows of three facing the front. Framed vintage maps, globes, and shelves with books lined the back wall and heavy burgundy drapes were gathered to the left and right of the four large windows across the side of the classroom where students who faced the front might turn to their left and get a view of the estate.
“Mr. Fowler said that you boarded at school together,” Ana offered, politely. She really wanted an explanation, but minded her tone so she didn’t appear nosey.
“I was in uniform and taught by a governess in this classroom, from the age of three until I was sent to boarding school at eight years old. On my weekends and holidays, I studied here as well. My governess was never far away, even when I was in sixth form,” he admitted.
Ana felt a rush of attraction shoot through every inch of her. She could imagine Brayden as he got older, sitting in the wooden school desk in his smart school uniform as he studiously read or completed prep work. She found the idea of his upbringing having been so formal, terribly exciting and she had to look away momentarily for fear he might see her blush and read her thoughts. Ana was tempted to sit in one of the desks herself, which of course she would never give in to.
“This is also where I completed University,” he added.
Ana raised an amused eyebrow. “Is it?”
“A professor from Cambridge started a pilot programme whereby families who wanted a Cambridge education and could pay twice what it was worth were invited to participate. My parents insisted I have a tutor for my University studies such as I did when I was child, but the professor was in his seventies and I daresay couldn’t recall how to wield a cane. So after sixth form and when I returned from boarding school, my father bought the curriculum from Oxford and hired his own tutor. I spent until age 23 in this classroom,” he said, looking around the room fondly.
Ana wasn’t completely shocked. She worked for many, many wealthy clients and convention went right out the window with every single one of them. They had the finances to fund the lifestyle suitable to their families and that is very often how they went about raising them.
“Your parents were determined to keep their values intact,” Ana replied.
“My father was a very loving and generous man, but if you spoke to him about education, such as my musical studies or general studies as I did in school and University, his opinion was that one should learn in a structured environment and neither uniforms nor corporal punishment were optional. They were required.”
Ana nodded and looked around the room again. “You were quite accepting to remain here privately tutored, in uniform and subjected to cane wielding until you were twenty-three, if I may say,” Ana said, with a smile.
“I didn’t despise it,” he said, looking around the room. “The staff continues to clean the schoolroom every two days as if a student were still going to appear for lessons. I suppose I can’t imagine Waldorf without it.”
“Does Alice take any lessons?” Ana asked. She wondered how accurate Brayden’s treatment of her was, as ten-year-olds attended school.
“Not yet, but she will.” He smiled. “I’m waiting until February. Alice needs to learn a second language and her Maths are dire, she still counts on her fingers.”
Ana laughed and followed Brayden as he turned to leave. He had to stop himself from imagining Anabelle Greyson sitting primly at one of the desks in a school pinafore with her hands folded on top of it. It was a charming image and he wanted to keep it that way in his mind, so he dismissed it.
Alice ate her soup with eyes on Ana, who sat across from her in Elisabeth’s place for the evening, and then transferred to Brayden when she observed their conversation at dinner. Alice found it painfully obvious that they fancied each other, although she doubted either of them would admit it. She certainly hadn’t spoken to Brayden about it.
“Alice, did you hear Miss Greyson?”
She looked up at Brayden, then Ana, then back at Brayden. “Sorry, Father?”
“She asked if you wouldn’t mind sharing your thoughts on the ball. She’d like to pass them along to her colleagues,” Brayden said, giving her a look. He wasn’t amused that Alice hadn’t been listening.
She smiled at Ana. “Yes, Miss Greyson.”
“That would be excellent, thank you, Alice. I shall have a chat with you and get it all recorded before I leave this evening.”
“Perhaps you should just stay,” Alice suggested nonchalantly.
Brayden nearly choked on his wine whilst Ana wiped her mouth with her napkin and glanced at him. Wellesley briefly closed his eyes and two of the maids bit their lips as they stood at attention nearby.
Alice smiled as Brayden changed to his water goblet, obviously trying to wash down the wine that never made it to his stomach. She pulled her lips in under her teeth and maintained a straight face until she looked down at her soup.
“I apologise,” he said to Ana, looking over at her to his right.
She shook her head and waved her hand. “Little girls like to see a happy ending,” Ana said, as though she were justifying Alice’s behaviour.
When dinner was finished, Brayden excused Alice to accompany Ana to the sitting room for their chat about the ball. He gave Alice a raised eyebrow before they left, but she just smiled back at her father knowingly and followed Ana out of the dining room. Brayden hadn’t ever received a smile from his daughter once he gave her a warning look – she usually averted her eyes and gulped. Alice seemed rather confident of something, although Brayden wasn’t exactly sure what it was; what went on in Alice’s head stayed there until she chose to share it.
Brayden remained in the dining room after Wellesley cleared the table, the brandy very nearly being calibrated as he rolled the glass around in an invisible crescent shape to the left and right. He stared off into thin air for a while, sipped the brandy and then returned to the rhythmic motion. Brayden was thinking about Ana. He had seen her every year from his twenty-first to his twenty-sixth birthday, but never really noticed her. Then, since meeting with her in his study recently, he really noticed her.
He also considered that perhaps Bennett had unknowingly encouraged him even before he told Brayden rather blatantly to court her. Bennett had quietly and patiently waited for the girl he had in his mind that fulfilled just a few of
his top qualities and when he found her, he wasted no time. Brayden wondered if that’s what was happening with him, except he hadn’t necessarily been waiting. He was indifferent about finding a wife because he didn’t think she existed. He had Alice as his daughter and a proper home at Waldorf again because there was a child to be raised in it.
Yet, Brayden had thought about Ana all day whilst he knew she was in the ballroom. He’d casually checked on her several times that day without her knowledge, as he would pass by the ballroom on his way to the music room. Brayden was sure Ana hadn’t even noticed him, mainly because he made an effort to count his visits as discrete. Each time he’d checked on her, Ana had her back to him and she was either speaking to someone on her phone, writing down notes whilst simultaneously speaking to a contractor or giving direction to the men who’d arrived to pick up various rental pieces. And each time he’d quietly walked past, satisfied that she was all right.
After he finished his brandy and left the glass on the table, he straightened his jacket and walked out of the dining room. Brayden began across the foyer just as the double doors opened and Ana and Alice met him there.
Ana smiled as they approached.
“All finished?” he asked, putting one hand in his trouser pocket. Alice remained beside Ana.
“Yes, Ana says I’m a natural conversationalist.”
“Miss Greyson,” he warned.
“I’m sorry. Miss Greyson.”
“She is,” Ana said, putting her hand on Alice’s far shoulder. “You were very helpful, pointing out some of the things my staff missed.”
“I hope my daughter wasn’t too forward.” Brayden glanced at Alice.
“No, she was very honest. I think it’s one of her best traits,” Ana said, smiling down at Alice.
