Marrying Mr. Darcy (Love Manor #2) - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,16

gardens up to the paying public. A lot of houses do it, as I’m sure you know, and it works. People love to see how the other half live, you know. I know I was super impressed when I first saw Martinston.”

To me it’s a total no-brainer. They’ve literally got this major asset under their noses, and they’re doing nothing with it. I might not have been able to afford to go to anything but a community college, but even I know that’s Business 101, make your assets work for you. If I had a freaking huge palace-like house with gardens that look like Marie Antoinette herself sat and ate cake in them, I’d be shouting from the rooftops about it. Not that I think Marie Antoinette actually did eat cake here, but you get the idea. Fancy gardens. Old.

“It’s a great idea,” Zara says as she takes a sip of her wine. “Lulu’s parents have been doing that for years, and they’ve got cafés in the house, too. They make a lot of bread out of it.”

“Don’t use that expression, Zara,” Geraldine scolds. “It’s awfully common.”

“Granny doesn’t like it because it’s Cockney rhyming slang,” Zara explains to me. “Bread and honey, money. See? I think it’s cute.”

“Got it.” I smile at her, grateful for her support.

“You’re always banging on about how Emma needs to learn the ‘British way,' Granny,” Zara says, using air quotes. “What’s more British than Cockney?”

I know Zara’s teasing her granny at best and trying to annoy her at worst. I change the subject back to the house. Much safer territory. “I know about that place, Zara. Their cafés are super popular, right?”

“Oh, yes. Lulu’s trust fund is huge because of it.”

Lucky Lulu.

“This idea is nothing new, Emma. No disrespect to your enthusiasm,” Geraldine says, her tone and facial expression screaming total disrespect. “We’ve been through this already, and my position has not changed. I don’t want all those people traipsing through our home. Imagine! What if they steal the silverware or leave their hamburger wrappers on the tables, or worse yet, relieve themselves in the bushes. It’s all absolutely unthinkable.”

Sebastian laughs as he shakes his head. “Granny, you have a very dim view of the general public. I can’t imagine any of those things will happen.”

“How do you know?” Geraldine replies rhetorically. “You don’t, and therein lies the problem.”

“Even the Queen opens her home,” Sebastian says.

“For one month of the year when she’s elsewhere for the summer,” she sniffs. “We don’t have a summer home anymore. Sebastian lost it, remember?”

I know what you’re thinking. My fiancé somehow lost the Huntington-Ross’s summer home. The thing is, Sebastian’s father was called Sebastian. With the same name it can be very confusing. But most of the men and even some of the women in this family are called “Sebastian” (just kidding about the women), so I generally simply nod along and hope I can work out which one they’re talking about at the time.

Sebastian’s dad was a terrible gambler. Terrible in that not only was he a compulsive gambler, but he was really, really bad at it, too. Through his habit, he plunged the family into their current state of potential financial ruin. Sebastian has never told me how much his dad lost, but it’s pretty safe to say it’s a whole lot. And thanks to a fatal heart attack a while back, he’s not around to deal with the consequences of his actions, either.

Not surprisingly, Sebastian has a complicated relationship with his deceased dad.

“Of course I remember, Granny. Now I want to ensure we don’t lose this house, too. Emma and I think it’s well worth revisiting the idea now that we know the show was never going to be enough. My feeling is we need to do it in spring.”

Geraldine scoffs.

“What else would you have us do? We’re already down to one cook and one housekeeper. I suppose we could give them their notice…”

“No!” Geraldine exclaims, her face aghast. “You can’t do that. Who would cook and clean for us?”

Uh, we could do it?

“I think opening up the house is a fabulous idea,” Zara says firmly. “Well done, you two.”

“I have to agree. Although I know it will take work, it’s better than the alternative.” Jemima turns to Geraldine. “Mummy, what do you say?”

It always gets me when Jemima calls Geraldine “Mummy” for two reasons. 1. Geraldine isn’t her mother, she’s her mother-in-law, and I know people of that generation sometimes called their parents-in-law Mom or