“The greatest gift my father ever gave me was the knowledge he loved me unconditionally,” I said. “I hope you get to experience what that’s like some day. Before it’s too late.”
Then, to rapturous applause, I mounted Achilles and galloped across the field to where the audience had been watching. Petey was standing to the side, his camera on its tripod, trained on me. I beckoned him forward, certain in what I needed to do.
“People of Newton Bardon,” I said. “Friends.” I dismounted, and Petey stepped towards me. I put my arm around him. “I have something I need to say to you all.” The crowd hushed, and I swallowed down my jitters. “Petey and I aren’t actually engaged. We never have been.”
There was stony silence. I couldn’t read what it meant, but it scared me. So I explained aboutThe Love Manor, the reasons for our deceit, and how the story had accidentally spread out into the real world.
“I never meant to lie to you all,” I said. “It was something that got out of control.”
“So you’re not getting married?” Mrs Craddoch called out across the crowd.
I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. We’re not.”
“Shame on you!” she shouted, and guilt pierced my heart, sharp as an assassin’s stiletto. I was never getting that red onion chutney recipe now. “I’ve already made my dress,” she said—and several people laughed.
“I’ve let you all believe a lie, and I’m sorry,” I said. “I haven’t lived up to the high standards I expect of myself, or that you should demand from me.”
“But you love him, right?” Gurpreet, the village chemist, called out.
“I do. Very much. That wasn’t a lie.”
“Then not to put too fine a point on it, William. Who gives a shit?”
Noweverybodylaughed.
Petey and I looked at each other. I wassoconfused.
“So you don’t mind?” I asked the crowd. A chorus of “no” came back.
I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. It was Andy. I spun around to find all the re-enactment crew standing behind me. Andy removed his helmet.
“Two weeks ago, William, you killed my ten-year-old son, Matthew, on the village green. It was the happiest day of his life and one of the proudest moments of mine. How many men can say that? All these people here, we know who you are. Inside.” He tapped his finger against his armoured chest. “And we all rate you, mate. You might have a fancy title and a big house, and eye-watering debt, and thighs my missus won’t shut up about, but you’re one of us. Which is why we all gave that arsehole from the newspaper absolutely nothing when he came around last week and told us all you weren’t really engaged.”
“You’re kidding? I’ve been sweating bullets about this for weeks.”
Andy shook his head. All the men and women in livery and armour behind him were doing the same. I looked around to see the entire crowd apparently in agreement.
“But I lied. Aren’t there any consequences?”
Andy crossed his arms. “Well, you know what we want. Sell us our homes and we’ll say no more about it. Deal?”
I glanced over my shoulder to where Horatio was sat slumped in Home Field, looking broken, defeated. Then I looked at all the faces staring back at me—people who’d lived in these cottages for generations, who’d protected me from the press, who’d embraced Petey without question or hesitation, and who’d turned out for a mad weekend of chaos merely because I’d asked. People who deserved to own their own homes.
“Deal,” I said, and stuck out my hand.
Andy shook it, his gauntleted grip firm, and the crowd erupted into applause.
I had no idea how I was going to replace the long-term income the estate would lose by agreeing to a fire sale of the cottages. But if I didn’t manage to save the estate in the next hundred and thirty-three days, it wouldn’t matter—because I wouldn’t be in a position to live up to the promise I’d made.
“Well, that was easy.” Petey’s breath was warm against my ear. “Two problems crossed off the to-do list in one go.” He pointed a finger across the field to where his father was pushing his way through the crowds towards us with a face like thunder. “That one might be a bit harder.”
Great, yet another reason to feel terrible. Today was meant to be all about making Petey’s parents see how brilliant he was. What were they going to make of this ridiculous display?
“You go,” I said. “If you can find my mother, send her this way.” I sensed her witchy charms could be indispensable. She was always so good at wrangling men of a certain age.
“She’s out searching for Derek’s duck.”
“Christ. How stoned is she?”
