“Kiss her!” Jonty shouted. I could have killed him. It wasnotin the script. But now a chorus of “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” was filling the room, and I didn’t feel like we had any choice.
“Should we?” I whispered into William’s ear.
“You’re the producer, not me.”
I rested my forehead against his. We smiled at each other like a young couple in love. The calls for us to kiss were now deafening. They wanted evidence—and we needed to give it to them. So I planted my lips on William’s and slowly, gently, lovingly, but chastely kissed him. His lips were soft and plump, and the light rasp of his stubble sent electricity through my whole body. Then he grabbed my arse, picked me up, and spun me around—to whoops of applause from the cast. He planted me back on the ground.
“Job done, I’d say,” I whispered in his ear.
William turned to face the cast and raised his hand to silence the room. “So, while I’m very flattered by the attention—ladies, gentlemen—I’m afraid I’m off the market. But let me tell youall something. Members of my family have been finding true love in this house, finding deep and abiding connections that last a lifetime, for more than five centuries. If you can find love anywhere, I promise you can find it here, atThe Love Manor. And I wish that for every single one of you.”
I was blown away. His little speech wasn’t part of the plan either. The cast cheered. Ridhi, Cristina, and Lola Q looked on the verge of tears. William waved at them, pecked me on the lips one more time, and slapped my arse. Then he marched out of the dining room and presumably carried on to the stables to take his actual one true love, Achilles, out for a ride. I stared at him as he disappeared up the hall, completely in awe. For a moment, I almost forgot I wasn’t actually in love with him. I shook it off. I wasnotgoing to get distracted by a boy.
“Right, settle down, everybody,” I said, putting as much authority into my voice as possible. “Are we all excited for tomorrow night’s ball?”
More whoops and cheers. The cast was in a great mood. They might have dipped out on marrying a real member of the aristocracy, but they were having fun this morning. It always made for great footage through the day.
“The costume department has been busy, and your outfits for tomorrow are ready to go. You’re all going to look spectacular.”
“All of us?” Kiki Galapagos sneered. “Or just the toffs?”
“Everyone! Because the theme for tomorrow night is a hunt ball, and servants were traditionally involved in various roles.”
There were a few cheers. But not as many as I hoped.
“Which means tomorrow we’re out on the horses!” I added. That got a roar from farm boy Tom and Lord Armando, and a few enthusiastic whoops from several others.
Ellie, the vegan chef, raised her hand. “Um, are you making us go fox-hunting?”
“Well, no. For one thing, fox-hunting is illegal. I promise you, no foxes are going to die tomorrow.”
“So, how is it a fox hunt?” Tom asked.
“It’s quite good fun, actually,” I said. “We’ve hired the actor Samuel Fox to stand out in the woods somewhere, and you have to locate him. We’ve got a shirt with his scent on it for the dogs to follow. It’s worth ten thousand pounds to the prize kitty if you find him.”
Ellie looked horrified. “Won’t he get ripped apart by the beagles?”
“They’re not hunting beagles, Ellie. They’re trained actors, we’ve hired them especially.”
She looked confused. “And they’re wearing beagle costumes?”
“Who?”
“The actors.”
“No, they’rerealdogs. The dogs are trained actors. Come on, Ellie. Keep up.”
She shook her head furiously. “You say no one’s going to die, but my career’s going to die if I go along with a fox hunt. Can you imagine what it would do to my brand? The sponsors? The fans? I ain’t doing it, mate.”
“It’s only pretend. It’s not a real hunt.”
Kiki stood up. “Yeah, but it’s still promoting fox-hunting, isn’t it?”
“She’s right,” Zoë the travel blogger said. “I’m not doing it. It’s not only off brand for me, it’s wrong. I’m not getting cancelled for doing something I don’t agree with in the first place.”
“Well, I’m in,” Tom said.
Within seconds the cast were bickering about the moralities of filming a pretend fox hunt. I shouted across the room, trying to regain order, but no one was listening. They were allscreaming at each other. Indira would be watching this all on the monitor back at the Old Coach House. There was no pretending everything was under control. There were eighteen of them. This rebellion was too much for one person to handle—especially considering that morally, I agreed with the rebels. Admitting failure, I slunk back into the hall, found my headset, and put it on. My finger was shaking as I pressed the button to speak to Indira.
