Read Online Wickham Hall, Part 2 by Cathy Bramley - Free Book Online Page B

cope with all of those things.
    My issue was that whenever I looked into his dark eyes, framed by even darker lashes, my heart gave a little flutter and no matter how often I reminded myself that a) he was my boss and b) he didn’t treat me any differently to anyone else, the fluttering was getting harder and harder to ignore.
    â€˜. . . and on a day like today,’ Nikki was saying. ‘I’m surprised he’s even in the office. Benedict’s like me: a free spirit and doesn’t like to be hemmed in. Between you and me, I think he finds being at Wickham Hall too suffocating.’
    I sometimes felt like that about Weaver’s Cottage, but here? I glanced around me at the size of the buildings, the acres of wide-open space.
    â€˜Hmm, I’ve noticed that too, although I can’t understand why. I’m sure he loves Wickham Hall but there does seem to be something holding him back from committing to it long term. Do you know what it might be?’
    Nikki shrugged. ‘No, but I guess it’s something to do with his parents. I admire Lady Fortescue, but she does treat him like a child. Family life is rarely straightforward, is it?’
    Understatement
of the century.
    â€˜It certainly isn’t,’ I said, giving her a wry smile. ‘Anyway, how are your preparations for the festival going?’
    â€˜The pearl garden is going to look fantastic,’ she said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the head of a white geranium. ‘Pretty, isn’t it? Problem is that it’s scorching out there and the flowers are all blooming like billy-o, I just hope I can extend their flowering until the end of the month. And the watering . . .’ She paused to roll her eyes. ‘Gallons and gallons of the stuff. We’re OK while the plants are in the nursery beds, but once we’re down on the showground everything will have to be watered by hand. It’s a full-time job just keeping them from drying out! Talking of which, I’ve earned myself a drink this morning, see you later.’
    Nikki wandered inside and I was about to resume my proofreading when I noticed Ben and Lord Fortescue coming across each other at the far side of the courtyard.
    Lord and Lady Fortescue had returned from the South of France looking healthily tanned. I was glad to have them back. The place seemed all the brighter for their presence, almost as though Wickham Hall stood to attention for them.
    It was the first time I’d seen father and son talk to each other without anyone else around – Ben had arrived during a manic time on Zara’s wedding day and the Fortescues had gone away straight after that – and I must admit, I was quite curious to see the two men together.
    Even though I couldn’t hear what they were saying I could read their body language. Lord Fortescue seemed perplexed: one hand smoothing his hair, the other on his hip. Ben didn’t look very happy; he was staring at the ground, shaking his head, waving his arms around until finally folding them defensively. Lord Fortescue laid a hand on his son’s shoulder and patted him gently but Ben turned his body away, catching my eye in the process.
    I raised a hand and Ben made a beeline for me as Lord Fortescue carried on walking towards the private car park.
    â€˜Hello, Mr Happy,’ I said as he dropped into the chair Nikki had just vacated.
    He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his face roughly.
    â€˜Parents,’ he said gruffly. ‘Dad knows that I’m not really cut out for this role, but asks me loads of questions anyway, which I can’t answer, and then he gives me his disappointed face as if I’m not doing a good enough job.’
    He looked so dejected that it was all I could do not to pull him in for a hug.
    I cleared my throat. ‘What sort of questions?’
    Ben sighed. ‘How many tickets for the festival have we sold, for example? I mean,