Page 8 of Love Wasn’t Built in a Day

“Oh, it is,” Mrs King replied with obvious pride.

Gideon glanced at Mr King, who regarded him with sympathy. “I am afraid you do not yet comprehend the heights of my wife’s ambition, Mr Bramwell. If she doesn’t have royalty visiting in the first six months, she will not be satisfied.”

“I see.” Gideon swallowed as the weight of responsibility increased. “And to ensure that, you must have the approval of the Dowager Duchess of Hawkney?”

“There, you see, I knew you would understand.” Mrs King sent him a dazzling smile. She was an exquisite woman, her stunning red hair a glorious sight against the apple green gown she wore.

“Well, yes, but… no,” Gideon said, his smile rueful. “What has this to do with the Victorious Ladies?”

“The Venturesome Ladies,” she corrected, gently but firmly. “We are a charitable foundation, and the Dowager Duchess of Hawkney has kindly adopted us as her own.”

The wry way she said this led Gideon to suspect the lady had given no one much choice in the matter.

“She is still a formidable woman, and one to whom society looks. If she endorses the hotel and us, then we are bound to be successful.”

“Which, in plain English, means we need to keep her happy,” King said with his usual brand of blunt honesty. “She wishes to be appraised of progress, which means she expects us to present ourselves at regular intervals.”

“Us?” Gideon repeated, though the implication was hardly subtle.

“I’m afraid that includes you, Mr Bramwell.”

Gideon refrained from groaning aloud, but his expression must have illustrated his feelings plainly enough.

“Look on the bright side. If the old lady takes a liking to you, she could make your career,” Mr King suggested, smiling as he took several biscuits from the plate his wife held out to them.

Gideon snorted. “Or break it.”

Mrs King sent them both reproving looks as she set down the plate. “The Dowager is a surprisingly open-minded and forward-thinking woman. She has taken a liking to you, Jasper,” she said, an edge to the words now that suggested he not forget it. “And I see no reason she ought not to like you too, Mr Bramwell. She is not in the least stuffy, nor high in the instep. Indeed, I believe you will find her frank and…well, forthright manner of expressing things quite invigorating.”

This time Gideon did groan.

Chapter 3

The Devil’s in the Details

Hatherley Hall, Little Valentine, East Sussex, 16th July 1816

Hetty looked up from the book she was perusing in the fabulous library at Hatherley Hall as the Dowager Duchess entered the room.

“Good morning, your grace,” Hetty said with a smile. She liked the dowager very much, who was made in the same indomitable mould as her grandmama and did not suffer fools.

“Well enough, child. I have a meeting this morning and thought I would use the library as there will be plans and such to look at.”

“Oh, in that case I shall remove myself elsewhere,” Hetty replied, closing the book.

The dowager sat down with a sigh and batted away the blanket Howard proffered to cover her knees. “I know it ain’t precisely Mediterranean climes this year, but I’ll not get frostbite indoors,” she said crossly. “Stop cosseting me. Mind you set out the tea and plenty of fresh Ratafia biscuits in good time. You may tell Monsieur Alfonse that those French fancies he creates are all well and good if he wishes to serve them, but I want my biscuits.”

“Yes, your grace. I will ensure he is aware of your preferences,” Howard replied gravely, though Hetty had the distinct impression Monsieur Alfonse needed no reminding.

The dowager nodded, apparently satisfied, before turning back to Hetty. “No, no. Don’t run away. You may stay, you might find it of interest.”

Hetty regarded her in surprise. “Really?”

“I’ve Mr and Mrs King coming for a visit to discuss the progress on their new hotel. I’ve agreed to champion their cause, to ensure all the best people patronise it, but only on the proviso I know what’s afoot. I’m not putting my reputation behind something vulgar, and that’s a fact, but I love a building project myself. I’ve made this place over a time or two, but I’m old-fashioned and it wants a fresh eye.”

“But the Hall is everything that is elegant,” Hetty said, meaning it, though she knew the dowager was not averse to a little flattery.

This was met with a smile of satisfaction. “It is,” she replied, for the dowager was not one for false modesty. “But I’ve noticed you, my girl. You’ve got a certain something. An eye for detail, I should say. I’d be glad to see what you think of the plans. Mrs King is a very stylish creature herself, and the architect chap seems to be a sensible fellow with good taste. But if the hotel is to appeal to the highest ranks of the ton, it will need to be special. It will need something extra.”