Page 30 of The Mad Marchams

“I found your guests, my lord. Here’s Mr. Colin and his young lady to see you.”

“Gosh!” A tall blond man whose hair looked like it had been cut around a bowl came rushing toward them. “Is that really you, Collywollykins?”

Mabel fought a smile. Ah, so that was his nickname.

“Yes indeed.” Colin reciprocated Bumpy’s enthusiastic handshake. “And this is my friend, Mabel Howard.”

Bumpy turned to Mabel. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He looked momentarily disconcerted. “Have we met before? I thought I knew all the Howard gels. Or are you one of the northern branches that never ventures down to London?”

“I’m from the long-lost Californian branch,” Mabel said as he vigorously shook her hand. “Went over in 1849 for the gold.”

“Oh! Makes total sense.” Bumpy nodded. “My great great uncle Cuthbert went out there, too. He was trying to escape from his awful wife, but the last the family heard he’d settled down very nicely in a place called Oregon with a new wife and had fifteen children. Not that my great-great grandfather acknowledged them in the line of succession, but it did make for a very interesting family reunion in the 1960s. Apparently there was fisticuffs and shots were fired.”

He paused and beckoned to the woman standing by the fireplace. “Well, come and say hello, Frizzy, don’t be shy.”

The woman practically skipped forward, her smile bright. She had that beautiful English skin Mabel envied and the slight build of a ballet dancer. “How lovely!” She turned to Colin first. “Your brother Freddy once helped me out of a very tight spot when I was almost kidnapped by my billionaire boyfriend and dragged onto his yacht at Cowes.”

“Sounds just like Freddy.” Colin kissed her cheek. “I’ll be sure to tell him I saw you.”

Frizzy smiled at Mabel. “So, you’re American!”

“Yes.” Mabel smiled back and prepared herself for the usual questions, but Frizzy was already onto something else.

“Bumpy and I have been married for five years, and we have two adorable little munchkins up in the nursery wing.”

“How wonderful,” Colin said. “The line assured, so they say.” He looked around the impressive drawing room. “And a wonderful place to hand over to them.”

“That didn’t happen without a lot of hard work.” Bumpy gestured at the sitting area. “Would you both like some tea before we show you around? Freddy said you were wanting some advice.”

“I could certainly do with some pointers,” Colin agreed as he took a seat next to Mabel. “Marcham Hall’s in a terrible state.”

“So, I hear.” Bumpy sighed. “These places are the devil to maintain, but if one doesn’t make the effort how can one live with oneself?”

“That’s a good question.” Colin accepted a cup of tea from Frizzy, passed it over to Mabel, and took his own. “I’ve got to start with some fundamentals like redoing the roof, the plumbing, and the electricals, but I also need some way to earn money to pay for all those things.”

“We were in the same boat.” Frizzy set the teapot down. “Daddy gave us some help to get started, but dear Bumpy has turned out to be something of a whiz at fundraising.” She beamed at her husband who looked endearingly modest. “Don’t be shy, darling. You deserve all the praise.”

“I merely asked around, pumpkin, and found an awful lot of people were more than willing to lend me money and help out.”

“Really?” Colin tried not to sound skeptical. “People just… offered up money?”

“Bumpy and I know a lot of football players,” Frizzy explained. “He’s on a lot of boards.”

“Football players who were interested in preserving the heritage of the British aristocracy?” Colin asked.

Frizzy and Bumpy laughed uproariously.

“I know, it does sound rather silly, doesn’t it? But they all love Bumpy so much that they were willing to help him. We also promised to hold functions here for anyone who invested, and we always keep rooms available for them if needed.” Frizzy lowered her voice. “I think some of them like to come here because it is very private, and they can avoid the press.”

“That makes sense, but I’m afraid I can’t boast a single football player in my address book. I’ll have to find another source of finance.” Colin set his cup down. “Did you investigate any of the charities or foundations who offer financial investment?”

Bumpy looked at Frizzy. “We did talk to a couple, and they were excellent at recommending good people to work on the house. Like you, we wanted to make sure that we kept the spirit of the place intact while we modernized.”

“You should give him Gavin Arkenden-Smith’s number.” Frizzy nudged Bumpy. “He was extremely helpful.”

“At what exactly?” Colin asked.

“Finding craftspeople to work on the house. You wouldn’t believe how many things needed restoring.” Frizzy started counting off her fingers. “Fabrics, wall hangings, floorboards, tapestries, glasswork, artwork—you name it, we had to have someone in to assess it, come up with a plan, and carry out the work. We’re six years in and we haven’t completed the half of it!”