‘And you're sure you gave the driver the right address?' Sarah was sitting in the car next to Hugo as they drove to Somerby. It was high summer now and the surrounding countryside was lush, in part owing to the sudden spell of rain they'd been having. Sarah prayed it would clear very soon.
‘He's got the postcode, he's got Sat Nav, and I gave him some basic directions. He'll be fine.'
‘Sat Nav does mad things sometimes.'
‘I know.'
‘And neither Mandy or Carrie will be able to help if he goes wrong.'
‘Probably not, but he won't go wrong. He'll be very experienced, professional. It'll be fine, Sarah, now relax.' Sarah exhaled loudly and looked out of the window. 'I'd feel happier if I could have sent a driver I know. If only they had given us a bit more notice.'
‘Carrie didn't know she was going to be in the country until just recently. She couldn't have known earlier.’
‘And poor Fen, having to rustle up lunch for us all. Although I suppose she has had just enough time to get in caterers, if she felt she needed to.'
‘Mm.' Hugo obviously wasn't listening. He'd heard all this several times before and knew a response wasn't really called for.
‘And what's the house going to look like in all this rain!’
Hugo glanced at her, giving her an opportunity to see his charming crooked smile. 'Wet! Now stop fretting. It's going to be fine.’
She did feel less anxious about Carrie and Mandy's last-minute visit to Somerby, to which she had been summoned, but the pang she got from Hugo's crinkled eyes and sexy mouth was not helpful. How could she react like that to him when she had so much on her mind and when she'd told herself that he was off limits? Two damn weddings on the same day should be enough to stop her having unsuitable feelings for an unsuitable man, surely? How can there possibly be space in her mind for anything except the job in hand? Her guard was weakening, she could tell. He was so attractive and so skilled at calming her fears, she found it hard not to keeping wondering, 'What if?’
And she couldn't stop thinking about his exhibition. The quality of his work, the fact that some had been sold before the show even opened, was amazing. He was so talented. And yet here he was, helping her with a wedding, albeit a celebrity wedding. Then she thought about Electra and felt down again. It wasn't only that she existed, and that he was engaged to her, but the fact that she seemed so wrong for him. He loved children: she had seen him with them, and she had seen him photograph them. And he'd just been telling her about his nephew and niece as they hit the motorway. His face lit up when he mentioned them. What was he doing with a woman who cared more about her abs than being a mother? If she thought they'd be happy together, it would be easier – possibly.
‘If only it would stop raining!' she moaned, using the rain as an excuse for her sudden despondency.
‘I think the sky is lightening over there,' he said, then switched the windscreen wipers up to full.
The house was still beautiful, thought Sarah as they came within sight of it. On a small hill, surrounded by parkland and trees, it looked like a painting, animated by raindrops falling on the leaves of the trees. There were two big black cars parked in front of the house, announcing clearly that Carrie and her entourage had arrived. Sarah had hoped she and Hugo would be first but at least the others had found the place.
Hugo stopped the car at the bottom of the drive. 'Let's just have a moment to ourselves to enjoy the stillness before we go in, shall we?' He smiled reassuringly at her and once again her stomach did a flip. Why did he always have to be so nice to her?
Sarah wound down the window. The smell of summer wafted into the car. She couldn't identify any particular scent but the mixture was wonderful. Somewhere a bird sang, a solitary sound among the gentle pit-pat of water on leaves. If she hadn't been in her smart working clothes, and had a mac or something, she would have got out and smelt the air at closer quarters, but she couldn't.
Neither of them spoke for a few minutes until Hugo said, 'Shall we go on?'
‘Not just yet.' Sarah wanted to stay in the car, listening to the gentle hiss of the rain and the bird before she had to go back to being the high-powered wedding planner she was every other minute of her life. But she couldn't do that either. She took a deep breath and said, 'We'd better get going now.’
Hugo turned the key in the ignition and they drove up to the house.
Fenella must have been listening for the car. She rushed out the moment they reached the front door and pulled open the car door before the engine had stopped. 'Thank God you're here, it's not going well. They must have whistled down here! We weren't ready really, and I got up at five.’
Fenella was looking elegant in a harassed way in silk trousers, matching top and a floaty jacket. The top was half tucked into the trousers as if she had been interrupted while dressing.
‘It'll be fine,' said Sarah, surprised at how calm she sounded. 'Don't worry. We just need to paint the picture for her.'
‘They're muttering about the condition everything is in. It's not the traditional setting Carrie wanted, and I don't know what else!'
‘Don't worry, Fen,' said Hugo, giving her a friendly hug. 'Uncle Hugo's here. He'll make everything work out.’
This did make Fenella give a little chuckle as she exchanged glances with Sarah. There was no doubt, he was a calming presence.
Carrie, Mandy and a couple of men Sarah didn't know were standing around in the dining room. Sarah could see that the floor had been covered with hardboard and painted white and looked amazing, but the room felt cold and Carrie, in a strappy top, was rubbing her arms. Mandy was similarly attired and they did not look happy. A wet summer day in England must have felt arctic to them. Sarah knew she'd have to find something for them to put on or they'd never agree to anything.
‘Oh, hi! Sarah! You're here. At last,' said Carrie, coming forward and kissing Sarah. Sarah felt her reproach – not only for suggesting this unsuitable venue but for being late. 'And Hugo!' He got a warmer reception, possibly because his arms were warm and she was cold.
‘So sorry you were kept waiting,' he said when he'd released her. 'We hit very bad traffic in Hereford.’
While Hugo was chatting to Carrie and Mandy and soothing ruffled feathers, Sarah touched Fenella's sleeve. 'You haven't got a couple of pashminas or cardigans or something for them to borrow? They won't come here if they're cold.’
Fenella hesitated only a moment. 'Pashminas. I've got loads of them. People always give them to me as presents. I'll be right back.’
As good as her word, she came back while Hugo was still making Carrie and Mandy giggle in a shameless way. 'Here, ladies, take one of these each,' she said gracefully, as if it was perfectly normal to dole out shawls in English country houses.
Carrie and Mandy were charmed and grateful. Fenella had colour coded them too.
‘Sorry,' said Hugo to the two dark-suited men, 'I'm Hugo Marsters, photographer to the stars.' He laughed to show he was being ironic. The men he was addressing didn't laugh back.
‘We're Carrie's lawyers,' said one and went on to introduce himself and his colleague. 'We're here to see Carrie doesn't get ripped off.’
One of them had a smile as practised as Hugo's but it did nothing for Sarah. She just laughed lightheartedly, pretending that everything was wonderful and all was going just as she'd planned it. 'I thought that was my job!' Then she put her hand on a cashmere-jacketed arm. 'Fen, are we in time for lunch?' She could do charming too.
‘We're having it in the kitchen,' said Fenella. Her fake cheerfulness was less skilled than Sarah's. 'I thought it would be more cosy in there. The Aga's going full bore.' As the party filed through the house, Sarah could see a lot of work had gone on since she'd last seen it. But instead of the oohs and ahs of appreciation she was expecting, Sarah heard murmurs of disapproval. Anxiety clenched at her stomach and she hoped Fenella had provided wine. If Carrie turned down Somerby, which reeked of upper-class elegance, where on earth else could she provide that she would like and with only a month to go? If Carrie had a couple of glasses of something she might feel more positive.
The huge kitchen was a picture of country-house glamour, she thought. Fenella and Rupert had obviously made a real effort to make it look picturesque but practical and in her opinion, they'd brought it off superbly.
A huge variety of pots, pans and kitchenalia, antique and modern together, were displayed on the wall above the Aga and the range cooker. Copper-bottomed bowls, little pans, cheese-graters, nutmeg-graters, a wire egg basket shaped like a hen, balloon whisks, ladles, conical sieves hung next to spatulas, colanders, spoons and a string of garlic.
The enormous built-in dresser displayed a large collection of china jelly moulds, huge old serving platters, a set of pewter side plates and a random collection of breakfast saucers. Some of it was bright Majolica wear, some were faded English classic designs. None of it matched but all of it was quality. The hooks were hung with jugs and mugs and on the top was a basket full of flowers. In Sarah's opinion, it was a magazine editor's dream. She just hoped Carrie and her party appreciated it.
The long table was laid for lunch and Rupert, wearing a striped apron and a broad smile, took a huge roasting tin out of the oven.
‘Welcome to Somerby!' he declared. 'I thought as it was such a filthy day we'd have a proper bit of roast beef. Home-reared. With roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding.'
‘Er, Carrie doesn't eat red meat,' said Mandy. 'Nonsense!' said Rupert. 'You're not going to turn down organic beef reared on English grass. Full of nutrients you can't get any other way.’
Sarah held her breath. Rupert's bluntness might not be welcome and most Hollywood stars not only didn't eat meat, but also avoided anything likely to add even a millimetre to their already stick-like figures. This was the sort of thing she should have anticipated, she chided herself.
‘Well,' said Carrie, thankfully as charmed by Rupert as she was by Hugo, 'I guess it wouldn't hurt just once.’
‘Come and sit down,' said Fenella, who had also been holding her breath. 'Hugo, you go that end, Carrie, you go on one side, Mandy the other. You two..
With easy manners Fenella seated everyone, looking as if she was making the placement up as she went along, but Sarah could tell she'd thought about it carefully. She herself was placed between the two lawyers but she didn't feel like sitting down.
‘Can I do anything?' She spoke brightly as if totally confident that everything was under control.
‘Could you just take this water?' said Fenella, giving the same impression. 'And Hugo, can you pour wine for everyone?'
‘I don't drink-' Carrie began but Hugo's charm caused her to accept half a glass of wine from what appeared to be a very grand bottle. It even had dust on it.
Sarah was about to be impressed until she remembered that when there was building work going on, dust was inevitable.
‘So tell me, Carrie,' said Hugo, smiling into her eyes, 'what made you want a traditional English wedding?’
She smiled and shrugged. 'Well, you know Rick, my fiancé, is English, originally. But I guess I just fell in love with those great Jane Austen movies and when I saw Ashlyn's pictures..
‘Then it's my fault?' Hugo raised an eyebrow.
Carrie laughed, pushing him gently. 'Not your fault at all – just your skill that showed me what could be done.'
‘I promise you, Somerby can provide not only tradition but originality,' said Rupert with assurance. 'And that's a rare combination.’
Sarah smiled to herself. A rare combination indeed -virtually an oxymoron.
The meal was superb. Rupert was either a sensational cook or the beef was so good no one could ruin it, but it was tender and tasty. The roast potatoes were numerous and crunchy and the vegetables were piled high in platters, covered with butter. Gravy came in two-pint jugs, one up each end of the table.
To begin with, the two lawyers ate almost in silence, obviously relishing the food. Twice Rupert got up to carve more, and Sarah noticed that he'd cooked two huge joints of beef. Even Mandy and Carrie ate well. Hugo made sure that glasses were topped up, either with wine or with water, and everyone began to relax.
‘The thing about this place is its history, Carrie,' said Sarah, feeling obliged to get the conversation back to the matter in hand while Rupert retrieved massive apple pies from the oven.
‘Some of the rooms are a little bleak,' said Mandy. 'Carrie, you commented on that the moment you saw them, didn't you?'
‘Oh, Rupert!' said Hugo. 'Haven't you got your family portraits up yet, or are they still being cleaned?’
There was just the tiniest pause before Rupert answered and it could have been because he was finding space for a very hot dish. 'Oh yes, they are.'
‘Rupert has the most superb collection of family portraits going right back to the eighteenth century. Or did you get some of the earlier ones too?' Hugo went on expansively.
‘No,' said Fenella quickly, 'his brother got all those.' Hugo leant towards Carrie and whispered, 'His brother is a duke, you know.’
Sarah heard Carrie and Mandy gasp and wished that Hugo had chosen a less noble title for Rupert's brother to be. It would be so easy to check dukes – there weren't many of them. Still, if it did the trick, did she really care?
‘Family fortunes have declined a bit latterly,' said Rupert. 'Now, Carrie, if you'd kindly pass me those carrots, I'll have somewhere to put this down.'
‘You'd think the brother of a duke would have servants,' muttered one of the lawyers to Sarah.
‘Not these days,' said Sarah, 'very passé.’
Hoping he would know what passé meant, she sighed and took another sip of wine. It was very good, she decided, even if the dust was recent, and she really hoped Fenella and Rupert hadn't spent too much money on the lunch.
‘Cream from the farm next door,' said Rupert, putting a jug on the table that was almost as large as the gravy jugs had been. 'We feel strongly about food being as local and as seasonal as possible,' he added.
‘Does that mean it doesn't have calories in it?' asked Carrie, smiling prettily.
‘Only good calories,' said Fenella. 'Obviously we don't eat like this all the time or we'd be fat as pigs, but if you are going to have a traditional roast lunch, it's better if you know the provenance of everything.'
‘This pastry is fantastic. Melt-in-the-mouth,' said Hugo. 'Have another little slice, Carrie. Rupes, you really can cook.'
‘So can I,' muttered Fenella, 'but he's more flamboyant about it.’
When everyone was only just able to move, Fenella said, 'Well, I think we should have the proper tour now. Carrie and Mandy have only really seen the dining room, but I'd like them to see all the rooms, plus a couple of bedrooms that are finished now. More will be finished on the day, of course.’
Again Sarah could see how much work had been done since her last visit and, sometimes, what work hadn't. A lovely antique basin and ewer were placed strategically under a drip. Fortunately nothing splashed into it until after Carrie and Mandy had passed into the next room.
The drawing room was a masterpiece. Someone, maybe even Fenella or Rupert, had extended the wallpaper by turning it into a mural. Now the pillars and exotic birds were the foreground for an Egyptian scene, with pyramids and sand dunes in the background. It was a masterpiece of simple painting and trompe l'oeil
‘Tradition and exotica,' declared Hugo. 'I like that. You really feel that behind the wall you can see this view. Did you copy the idea from Hazlehurst? Family seat,' he muttered sotto voce to Mandy, who was near him.
‘Sort of. We had to scale it down quite a lot,' said Rupert, after exchanging desperate looks with his wife. 'These rooms may seem spacious, but to me they are on the small side.'
‘That's what you get from a venue like this that you never could from anywhere else,' said Hugo. 'The personal touch. I mean, you could rent a castle if you wanted, with a lake, a pagoda, anything. But at Somerby you'd get intimacy, style, a secret place that the tourists don't know about. One word sums it up perfectly – class.’
At that moment Sarah realised that only Hugo could have said those things. She certainly couldn't, or at least, not in anything like the same grandiose way. Rupert and Fenella were far too modest, but Hugo had no shame -thank goodness.
‘Another bonus, in my opinion,' said Hugo, 'is that yours would be the first wedding ever to be here. Others will follow, but you'll be the first.' He crinkled his eyes at Carrie in a way that no normal woman could resist. 'I think you are a trendsetter, aren't you?’
Carrie shrugged, raised her shoulders and agreed in her body language that yes, maybe she was. 'It would be quite cool to be the first to discover this place,' she said to Mandy.
Mandy shivered in agreement.
‘We do want something for you that is totally unique,' Sarah broke in. 'Nowhere else I've researched has anything like the charm of Somerby.' She paused. 'It's good from the security angle, too. The way the roads are, it'll be very easy to keep the paparazzi under control.'
‘That's a good point,' said one of the lawyers. 'That does have to be taken into consideration.'
‘We'll have that checked out later,' said the other.
There was a moment's silence while this all settled, and then Fenella said, 'Let's carry on with the tour,' and she led the party to the room that opened off the chapel.
The chapel should do it, thought Sarah, aware that Fenella was probably pinning her hopes on this too. There was a long silence when Rupert opened the door and Carrie, Mandy and her two lawyers regarded what was in effect a miniature church.
‘Holy cow!' said one of the lawyers under his breath.
‘This was for just one family?' asked Mandy eventually.
‘Originally, yes, but the villagers used it when their own church was being repaired,' said Rupert. 'It's why it has this other entrance here.' He opened the door.
By some miracle the sun came out from behind a cloud, shining on the wet path that led through the park down to the road. It glimmered like white marble.
‘Your carriage could take you all the way up to the chapel door,' said Fenella, 'if you liked.'
‘Or you could walk up, with your retainers – bridesmaids – behind you,' offered Sarah.
‘Then after the service and the outside photographs, you slip into the house while your guests go round the long way,' said Hugo. 'Giving you a few moments to freshen up before your greet them.’
Carrie bit her lip and nodded, still non-committal. No one spoke. No one from the Somerby side wanted to say anything that would scupper their chances and no one from Carrie's team appeared to have anything to say, obviously waiting for her approval before they dared speak.
At last Sarah couldn't bear it any longer. 'I'm just thinking how wonderful your cake will look silhouetted against that fabulous window, with the parkland beyond.’
There was a pause as long as the Forth Bridge before Carrie eventually spoke. 'Oh yes,' she said softly. 'That would be truly fabulous.’
And Sarah silently sent a prayer of thanks up to God.