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But he didn’t. Partly because he couldn’t believe it was actually that bad. But mostly because she was Faith, and he wanted to give her a chance. He wanted her to stick around.
Which didn’t mean he was going to stop trying to find out what she was hiding.
Beresford Hall lay less than two hours’ drive outside London. Dominic spent the journey catching up on some reading, chatting with Ben, Henry and Marie about his next trip over to the States, and trying not to stare at the back of Faith’s seat.
It was just the mystery, he told himself. Strange woman walks into his life, just when he needs her, and proceeds to do a perfectly good job while lying to him the whole time. Of course he was intrigued. Of course he’d been thinking about her. He needed to know the truth to protect himself, even if he suspected it would turn out to be nothing. A row with a boyfriend, perhaps. Nothing more.
And, whatever her reasons for leaving Italy, she didn’t want to come to Beresford Hall either, that much was clear. But maybe she’d open up to him there. Maybe he could get her to talk.
Seeing the estate he’d saved from ruin and built up into a multi-million-pound business often made women feel fondly towards him. No reason to suppose a little imposing grandeur wouldn’t do the same for Faith.
The coach pulled up the long driveway, curving through the landscaped gardens, past the fountains and up to the front of the Hall. In the past, all you’d have seen from the road was woodlands and immaculately trimmed hedges. These days, Dominic got a thrill from spotting a gang of archers heading off to the archery range, and a group of men in suits making their way towards the conference facilities. No weddings today, he supposed, with it being a Wednesday, but there were at least two stag dos booked in for the weekend, taking over the rally track and go-carting on the outer edges of the estate.
Dominic didn’t try to dampen down the surge of pride he always felt when he saw the Hall, and especially when he saw the reaction of his clients to the magnificent building. Yes, he’d been born into a privileged family. But it had taken every ounce of his own determination and ability to make his family name, and estate, what it was today.
Maybe the people looking on only saw the money made, the clever business decisions he’d taken. But he, at least, knew that it was more than that. He’d done his time feeling ashamed as a boy—of his mother, his name, his life. But he’d grown up since then. He’d taken on the challenge and surpassed it. He’d reclaimed his heritage, his self-respect, his future.
And he had every right to be proud of that.
But when he finally caught Faith’s eye, as she stood to guide everyone back off the bus, he didn’t see the expected awe or appreciation in her gaze. Instead, she was frowning at the Hall as if it personally offended her.
His most likely reason for her reluctance to come with them that day rose up in the back of his mind again. Perhaps she just resented the aristocracy, and perceived privilege. Hadn’t she been happy enough to use his name to get what she wanted from their suppliers that week, though? If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was a hypocrite.
Dominic clenched a fist against the back of the seat beside him as he stood. He’d make sure Faith Fowler got a full tour of Beresford Hall. He wanted her to understand exactly what he’d achieved here, although he couldn’t have said why it mattered to him so much.
* * *
Beresford Hall was beautiful, magnificent, a shining example of some sort of architecture or another, and everything else the guidebook said it would be. But all Faith could see was the shadow of Fowlmere Manor hanging over it, reminding her how hard she’d worked to get away from places like this. People like this.
Sure, Fowlmere was maybe half the size of Beresford Hall, and there were far fewer people hanging around it these days, but the similarities caught her everywhere she turned, and she couldn’t shake the shiver that crept over her shoulders when she thought how close she’d come to being trapped somewhere like this her whole life.
Dominic led them up the stone steps to the imposing front doors, hauling them open and holding one to let them pass into the main hall. It was early on a weekday, but there had been several coaches parked in the car park when they arrived and the hall already boasted three lines for tickets. This, Faith supposed, was where Fowlmere really differed. Even if her father had let them, what tourists would want to pay to visit a crumbling manor that had sold most of its heirlooms to pay gambling debts?
Beresford Hall was often held up as an example of heritage done right. Open most days to the public, save one wing that was kept as family quarters, Dominic had put history on display for all to share and he’d done it in style.
