“That’s one thing I’m definitely not mourning.” His voice was soft. “It’s around twenty weeks until Halloween. One hundred and forty-six days to pay the tax bill—or all this is gone. Oh, and the accountant called. We need to find another million.”
“You’ll pay it,” I said firmly. “You’re tackling the hard stuff. I’m proud of you. You’re going to make it.”
He sighed.
“The tenants have asked if they can buy their houses from the estate.”
“Well, that’s wonderful!”
He shook his head.
“The estate needs ongoing revenue. The rent accounts for forty per cent of my income. If I sell the cottages…”
You’d think his tenants had shot his dog and poisoned the well, the way he was carrying on.
“But it’d be a lot of money,” I said, flipping the narrative for him. “You can invest it in other ways to make more.”
“Maybe.”
I eyeballed him.
“And it’s the right thing to do. People should be able to own their own homes.”
William rolled his eyes. “All right, steady on, Karl Marx. I know that.”
“My grandparents bought their council flat through Right to Buy in the eighties. It was huge for them. Completely changed their lives.”
William ran his hand through my hair. His face was still sad.
“You really miss your gran, don’t you?”
“More than my mother misses the death penalty.” Staying on at Buckford after filming meant I hadn’t got home to see Gran. I’d spoken to her on the phone, but I missed her hugs. Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed by a need to see her. “I think I might go down for a few days. See her, see the boys.”
William’s face fell, and his shoulders slumped. I’d forgotten for a moment I was meant to be listening to his problems right now, not talking about mine.
“Hey, don’t worry. We’ll find a way to save the estate and help your tenants.”
William brightened a little. “We?”
“Of course.”
He broke into a wide grin. Like he’d found an extra toy in his Happy Meal and it had completed a treasured set. Suddenly, I was being scooped up and spun around and around, William’s lips on mine. When he finally planted me on the ground, his hands gripped my waist.
“Actually, Zoë had a good suggestion.” Apparently, William had spoken to half the cast ofThe Love Manortoday, and Zoë had recommended opening the house to the public.
“It’s a fabulous idea. You can probably get huge grants for doing it too.”
William started pacing along the bridge, ideas tumbling out of him. “I do like the thought of breathing a bit of life into the old girl. This place is meant to be buzzing with people. When my parents had the place, this was a real party house.”
I sat down on the stone bench, watching him pace. This was when William was most beautiful—when something sparked that enthusiasm in him.
“You need a marketing strategy to sell what makes Buckford unique,” I said. An idea struck me. “What would be amazing is if we could bring the history of the place to life.”
“You want to do a séance in the family mausoleum?”
I rolled my eyes. “Why don’t we re-enact the Battle of Buckford Field again, but on the actual field where it originally happened? Think of the footage. It would make an awesome promo video to help get the punters in, and it’d be a spectacular way to sell the historical importance of the estate.”
William stood upright. “Do you think it’d work?”
