Petey, realising he had an audience, finally released Peggy. Mentally, I was patting down all her bones, looking for fractures. At last, he introduced us. Peggy made to curtsy.
“No, don’t do that,” Petey and I said in unison. That made me grin.
Petey pointed to his gran’s knitting bag, sitting on top of the cases.
“Are you… staying?” he asked.
I put my hand on Petey’s shoulder. “Peggy has graciously agreed to be our guest for the next week. She’s going back with your folks in the Jag next Sunday.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Surprise!”
“Oh, William!” He threw his arms and legs around me, kissing me. Now I was the one risking snapped bones.
“For a fake engagement, things seem to be going remarkably well,” Ludo observed.
“Is he trying to suck out a filling?” Sunny added.
“Ain’t it bloomin’ marvellous?” Peggy said.
I liked her immediately.
Sunny and Ludo were here to check out the house, specifically the chapel, to see if it might work for their wedding. So, aftercups of tea all around, I launched into the tour I’d been mentally rehearsing all morning. If this went well, it might herald Buckford’s future as a wedding venue for hire. I was dressed in what Petey now called my uniform—a crisp white Oxford shirt, tan chinos, and the russet tie that I refused to get rid of, even though it bore heavy scars from two nights earlier, when Petey had tied me to a banister with it before whipping my nipples with a riding crop.
“This is the Great Hall,” I announced, gesturing upward as we entered. “The chandeliers were originally designed for Napoleon’s palace at Malmaison. Supposedly, he had them based on Josephine’s breasts—which, I take it, must have been absolutely gigantic and reeked of tallow. They were electrified in my grandfather’s day. The chandeliers, that is, not Josephine’s breasts. Although with Grandad’s reputation, that would have been advisable too.”
I caught Petey trying not to laugh and felt my confidence grow.
“Is that a Gainsborough?” Ludo asked, pointing at the huge landscape above the fireplace.
I said it was, feeling rather pleased he’d noticed. I pointed to the lake. “It’s a hay cart crossing the River Buck. A couple of years before Capability Brown diverted it to create the Long Water.”
“Is it one of the works you’re selling?” Ludo was studying it with real appreciation.
A lead weight formed in my gut. “No. Yes. No. Well, only if things get desperate. Most of the artwork is dreadful, but that one feels like it belongs with the house.”
Petey’s hand slid into mine. It was enough to steady me.
As we moved through to the West Drawing Room, Peggy’s arm was hooked into Petey’s, and the way he kept glancing downat her, checking she was all right, made me want to kiss him all over again.
“This is the perfect breakout area for your guests when they’ve had enough of dancing,” I explained to Sunny and Ludo. “There’s a door right out onto the sunken garden, which was originally designed for courting couples. Or if you really want to put your back into it and properly ruin somebody, it’s only a short walk to the hedge maze.”
“Very posh,” Peggy said. “We used to make do with an alleyway round the back of the boozer if we wanted a tumble.”
Everyone’s jaw hit the floor—and Peggy screeched with laughter.
The chapel was where I truly hoped the house would sell herself. It was on the ground floor, tucked near the stables, and the light through the stained glass always made it feel somehow both ancient and alive. Generations of Buckfords had been married here, but never anyone from outside the family.
“The chapel can seat eighty guests comfortably,” I said, walking Sunny and Ludo up to the business end while Peggy and Petey settled into a pew at the back. “The altar is fourteenth century—salvaged from a monastery after the dissolution. The stained glass is all original.” I was pointing up to my ancestor, Richard de Valois, kneeling before the king—light shining gold through his crown—feeling like I was making excellent headway, when I felt something damp under my arm. I was sweating like a hog in December who’d realised his calendar was remarkably clear in January.I clamped my arms to my sides.
“It’s gorgeous,” Ludo said, pointing to the window.
Sunny was squinting. “Why’s he giving the king a head job?”
Ludo whacked him.
“And the acoustics in here are incredible,” I said. “When my sister got married here a few years ago, she had a stringquartet. Couldn’t have sounded more magnificent if your head was stuffed inside the cello.”
