Lizzie Marshall's Wedding (9 page)

‘Let me know how that goes,’ Jess said, heading for the door.

‘Maybe he thought the same,’ Becky said pacing back and forth across the bedroom floor. ‘Maybe, when his mum called, he realised what he was doing and that’s why he left so abruptly.’

‘Maybe. And maybe you’ll have just a towel wrapped around you when he comes to pick you up – which you will – if you don’t get a move on.’ Jess grabbed Becky’s hand and pulled her towards the bathroom.

‘Okay, I’m going!’

‘What I don’t get,’ Susie said, following them out of Becky’s bedroom, ‘and it’s been bugging me ever since you told us – is why he came to see you in the first place. What I mean is, they have a phone; why didn’t he just call and tell you or why didn’t Margaret call and ask? Why send Max to tell you that he’d come back for you later? I think he just wanted to see you and was using it as an excuse – and his mum was obviously fine with that.’

‘Why would he want to see me?’

Jess sighed. ‘Sometimes Becky, I really think you know nothing about men. You’ve just shared a passionate kiss and you’re asking why he would want to see you. He clearly fancies you! Didn’t you see him staring at you in the pub?’

‘I ... he was looking at me, that’s true, but I think he was just listening to what I was saying.’

‘Yeah. Well, I think he was wondering how he could get you in his arms – again.’

‘Again? What do you mean again? Have I missed something?’ Susie asked in a concerned tone.

‘Yesterday morning – he carried Becky in from his car, remember? We told you in the pub.’

Susie nodded, obviously relieved that she was up to date with events.

‘Do you really think he’s interested in me?’

‘Yes Becky, I do,’ Jess said. ‘Although I’m not sure Susie’s right about the phone call. Unless you gave him or his mum your number or your surname, why would he know either? Maybe that was exactly why he turned up here – because they don’t have it. Anyway, that doesn’t matter now.’ Jess gave Becky a shove. ‘Go and get showered.’

At five minutes to four, Becky, Jess and Susie watched as Max strode up the snow-covered path without the slightest hesitation; it had taken them ages to get to the café and back to Becky’s again in the snow and they’d slid and slipped all over the place.

‘How does he do it?’ Susie said. ‘The man is obviously a demigod.’

‘Perhaps he just has good all-weather boots,’ Becky said, practical as ever.

‘Nope. He’s a demigod. And doesn’t he just ooze sex appeal? Why don’t you just go for it and make sure his mum never finds out?’

‘Because, as good as he might be and as tempted as I am – yes, don’t say it – I agree, he’s not bad but, he’s not quite as lovely as having a roof over my head. I’ve been thinking about it. Men, you can always find, work, is harder to come by. Besides, just look at him. He can have any woman he wants – and has, if even half the gossip is true. I’ve got enough problems already. Do I really need to give myself more?’

‘You need to have some fun,’ Jess said, ‘and I’m pretty certain Max is the man for that. You said yourself you were “in lust”. Just let your hair down and enjoy it. You don’t have to fall in love with the guy!’

‘But what happens if I do? What then? I’m not sure I could handle losing someone else I love.’

Jess and Susie exchanged glances.

‘Then walk away before you do,’ Jess said. ‘The minute you think it’s more than just lust, more than just fun – end it. That way, you’ll be in control. You’ll be the one who does the leaving. You never know, that may actually do you some good; break the cycle or something.’

Becky considered this for a few seconds until she heard the doorbell ring. ‘If only I could Jess. Wouldn’t that be something?’ She made her way towards the front door then looked back and smiled at them. ‘Okay. Wish me luck. I’ll see you two later.’

‘Good luck!’

‘Go get ’em, girl!’ Jess said. She waited until Becky had closed the front door behind her then she turned to Susie. ‘Right Susie, you and I have work to do. Monday may be your day off but I’m sorry to say, you’re going to have to do some serious sewing!’

CHAPTER NINE

Max was feeling anxious. Kissing Becky hadn’t been something he’d considered and it had taken him almost as much by surprise as it had obviously taken her.

He wasn’t going to deny that he was interested in her. There was something about her that had struck a chord with him the moment he saved her from slipping into the drained pond on Saturday. He couldn’t say exactly what it was, but he knew he wanted to see her again. When he’d bumped into her in the Stores, later that day, it had only confirmed it for him. She was so ... so argumentative.

He grinned to himself; perhaps that was the fascination. Most women he met seemed to fall at his feet the minute he smiled at them. Becky, on the other hand, clearly wanted to slap his face.

She hadn’t slapped his face when he’d kissed her though. She’d kiss him back and, if his phone hadn’t rung, he was pretty sure they would have ended up doing much more than just kissing. She’d looked so damned sexy in that old cardigan and those leggings. Some women were sensual without even trying and Becky Cooper was definitely one of those women, he thought.

‘Hi,’ he said when Becky opened the door.

‘Hi.’

She looked completely different from the way she had just a few hours earlier. Now, she wore make-up, not too much but enough to see she’d made an effort and she’d done something with her hair. He hoped it wasn’t for his benefit. She looked pretty, but not in the same, naturally sexy, way.

She stepped onto the path and he saw her immediately begin to lose her balance. Her heeled, leather boots slid on the snow and he grabbed her to stop her from falling. This time, he held her at a distance.

‘Haven’t you got anything more suitable than those boots?’

‘More suitable for what?’

‘The snow. You live in the country; surely you possess a pair of walking boots or something. Wellingtons even.’ He could see she was flustered by his words.

‘I’m meeting your mother for business, not a stroll in the woods. I can’t arrive in wellingtons. Besides, we’re going in your car.’

‘Yes – but you’ve got to get to my car.’ He sighed deeply. ‘I suppose I could carry you again.’ He saw the red flush, through the perfectly applied make-up.

‘Don’t trouble yourself. I am perfectly capable of getting to your car without your help.’

She stepped confidently forward but he could see it wouldn’t be long before she fell on her very pretty little bottom.

‘For heaven’s sake.’ He swept her up and marched to his Range Rover depositing her abruptly beside the passenger door. ‘It’s open.’ He walked around to the driver’s side and got in.

Becky got in and slammed the door.

‘Are you sure that’s shut?’ He didn’t try to hide the sarcasm in his tone.

‘I’m not certain, let me check.’ She opened the door and slammed it so hard, the vehicle actually shook.

Max grinned to himself. ‘Okay Fifi, let’s go.’ He floored the accelerator and with a spray of snow and mud, they shot off towards Beckleston Hall.

Neither spoke but he could see she was gritting her teeth.

‘Are we going to discuss what happened earlier?’ he asked.

‘You were your usual macho self and I had a little “female” tantrum; what is there to discuss?’

Max grinned again. ‘I meant earlier than that, when you kissed me.’

She turned to face him. ‘When I kissed you! When you kissed me you mean!’

‘Okay, I’ll agree I started it but you definitely joined in. Are you going to deny it?’

For a moment she didn’t reply then she turned away and looked out of the passenger window. ‘It would have been rude not to.’

Max was surprised. He hadn’t expected that. ‘So, you were just going along with it in an attempt at good manners? I like your style. Tell me, where would you have drawn the line on courtesy? When I was undressing you? Making love to you? Giving you an –’

‘Okay, thank you! Kissing. I draw the line at kissing.’

‘Good to know. That’s obviously something else we “incoming would-be gentry” need to learn; the limits of good manners. When someone kisses you in Beckleston, you kiss them back, to be polite, whether you want to or not. Anything else I should know?’

‘Not at the moment.’

Minutes later, he pulled up outside the front door of the Hall and turned to face her. ‘Would you like me to carry you in, or can you manage?’ He smiled and leant towards her.

‘I can manage perfectly, thank you.’ She released her seatbelt and made a rapid exit.

‘Don’t slam the ... okay, too late.’ He wondered what he’d done to upset her. As long as he lived, he would never understand women.

Becky waited by the front door and Max opened it for her.

‘After you,’ he said bowing his head slightly.

‘How kind.’ She strode into the hall.

‘Becky,’ Margaret called to her from a room towards the back of the house.

It was a room she knew well and she wondered if the Bedfords were using it as a sitting room too. She didn’t have to wonder for long.

‘We’re in here. We’re using this room as a sitting room because it’s much smaller than the others and, in this weather, much warmer.’

She followed Margaret in and her tummy did a little flip, apart from the furnishings, the room hadn’t changed one bit since the last time she’d sat in it, so many years ago.

‘Do sit down Becky, over here, near the fire. You look frozen. Is that coat warm enough?’

‘It’s fine thanks,’ she said, a little too defensively, she realised.

‘Darling, take Becky’s coat and get us all a drink would you. Becky, this is Victoria, my oldest and dearest friend. She’s staying with us for a few days.’

‘Not so much of the “oldest”, if you don’t mind. Hello Becky, it’s lovely to meet you.’ Victoria stretched out her hand and Becky shook it.

‘Hello. It’s lovely to meet you too. How long have you been friends, if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘I don’t mind at all,’ Victoria said, smiling warmly. ‘We’ve known each other since our early school days.’

‘Yes, more than sixty-five years ago but do you know, I can still remember those days as if they were just last year. What would you like to drink Becky?’ Margaret said.

‘Oh, um, nothing for me thank you.’

‘Nonsense! You need something to keep out the cold, doesn’t she Victoria?’

‘Definitely. I’d recommend the Drambuie. Very warming. Have you ever tried it?’

Becky smiled. It had been her mother’s favourite. ‘Yes. My mother loved it. Oh! I don’t mean she drank it a lot, I just meant it was her favourite drink.’

Both Margaret and Victoria grinned.

‘We know what you mean dear,’ Margaret said. ‘It’s one of our favourites too. Pour Becky a glass of Drambuie, please Max.’

Max brought the drinks over and winked at Becky as he handed hers to her. The glass was almost full. ‘I’ll make sure you get home safely, don’t worry.’

‘How comforting.’ She saw the lights in his eyes dance with devilment but noticed he’d filled the other glasses almost to the brim too.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he said. ‘Just yell when you’re ready to go. I’ll be somewhere or other in this vast pile.’ He smiled and left the room.

‘I can’t believe this weather. I wondered if the Valentine’s bash would have to be cancelled but Max tells me you’ve organised lifts for everyone. You really are a superwoman, aren’t you? Cheers,’ Margaret said, raising her glass.

Becky wondered how Max knew that but she didn’t want to ask. ‘Cheers,’ she said, raising her glass too. ‘I’m far from being a superwoman, unfortunately. It’s just that everyone enjoys the social events in Beckleston and they put so much effort into helping make them a success, it would be such a shame if some of them missed out just because of some bad weather. The village is a real community, as you’ll soon find out and all I had to do was ask a few people for a few favours. I did nothing really; it’s the locals who are the real stars.’

Margaret and Victoria exchanged what Becky thought was a rather odd look but they both smiled at her.

‘And modest too. I like that, especially as it would have been so easy for you to tell me you went out of your way to organise rides for everyone, which you clearly did. That would have been an added sales pitch.’

‘But not true. Really, I made a few phone calls, nothing more.’

‘Well, nevertheless, I’m impressed. Let me tell you what I have planned for here and you can tell me whether it’s something you’d be interested in taking on. Am I to understand from our conversation yesterday, that you run your own business?’

‘Yes. I’ve been organising events for ... for about ten years, professionally but I used to help out with events even in my early teens, so I know a fair amount about it and have quite an extensive network of contacts, suppliers etc.’

‘Splendid. I was originally looking to employ someone on a permanent basis, possibly even to live-in but I think, if you feel you have the time, that employing you on a freelance or contract basis would work just as well. I could then employ an assistant or something to help with the day to day requirements. So, what I’m planning is this. I want to promote the place as a wedding venue, amongst other things, possibly some corporate events, Stately home weekends for the American market, painting holidays, perhaps even creative writing courses.’

Becky took a large gulp of Drambuie, now thankful Max had filled it to the top, she felt she was going to need it. What Margaret was saying would be a full time job, even for someone with her experience, which would be wonderful, if she could make it work. It would mean financial security, depending on what sort of fees Margaret might be willing to pay.

‘I can see I’ve taken you rather by surprise, dear. You thought you were coming here to discuss a wedding and you’ve ended up with a full time job!’ Margaret smiled warmly. ‘Don’t panic. They’re only ideas at this stage and I don’t expect anything to be up and running until the end of the year at the earliest, apart from the wedding. That, of course, is already booked and it must be something really special. Naturally, the bride will have a large say in exactly what she does and doesn’t want and it, effectively, is a relatively small and private family wedding. Not sure of exact numbers yet. Max may be able to throw some light on that but it’s fixed for the last weekend of August, the Bank holiday, so we need to get our act together. Max and I are paying for everything this end. Lizzie will sort out her side of it.’