Marrying Mr. Darcy (Love Manor #2) - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,36
dozens of underpaid staff catering to their every whim. We need to dig around in the Huntington-Ross family past and find some juicy stories our viewers can get their teeth into.”
“Wasn’t there that ancestor of yours who had an affair with Henry VIII, Sebby?” Jilly asks.
“Err, I’m not sure, actually,” he mumbles, clearly uncomfortable.
“Now, that’s the sort of thing we’re looking for here, although I think half the female aristocracy slept with Henry VIII at some point, didn’t they? He was hardly picky, although you did run the risk of losing your head.” Heather laughs uproariously at her joke as she writes “Henry VIII affair” on the whiteboard. “Anyway, my point is we need some salacious stories, and we need a human interest angle as well. What will happen to you if you lose the house? Where will you live? How will you survive? Will you survive at all? These are the questions that will propel the viewers to watch.”
“Well, that’s going a little far, don’t you think?” Jilly scoffs. “Of course they’ll survive. This is about preserving our uniquely English heritage, not whether the Huntington-Rosses will end up on the streets.”
Heather writes the word “survive” with a big question mark on the board. “Let’s circle back to that one.”
“Jilly’s right. That’s where the focus needs to be,” Sebastian says.
“But we need the human interest angle,” Heather protests. “I mean, why now? Why are you facing the potential loss of your house now and not, say, fifty or one hundred years ago when a load of landed gentry lost theirs?”
My eyes dart to Sebastian. I’m certain he won’t want Heather to know that his father’s gambling debt is what’s put his family in their precarious current position. Some things are too personal to get aired on television.
“We simply managed to hold out longer than others, I suppose,” he replies smoothly. “There’s really nothing more to it.”
She raises her eyebrows. “No scandal, no skeletons in the closet?”
“Nothing like that,” Sebastian replies swiftly.
Heather turns to her board and begins to scrawl once more. When she turns back, I read the words “family tragedy” with a large question mark.
She’s clearly not convinced. I give Sebastian’s hand a squeeze under the table. “Blunt” is definitely the word for Heather McCabe. He shoots me a brief smile. This can’t be easy for him.
“How would you see the show working?” Jilly asks, thankfully changing the subject.
“Oh, that part’s easy. We’ll film Sebastian in the house, going about whatever it is he’s doing to save it. You said you had some things going on already. What are you planning on doing?”
I see my chance to enter the conversation. I’ve been a bystander up until now. The little contestant that could. Whatever that means. “We’re going to open the house and the gardens up to the paying public in spring,” I announce, feeling proud of the decision we’ve reached. “We might also consider opening a café on the grounds, but we’ve not worked the details of that out with the family just yet.”
Heather stares at me blankly for a moment, as if wondering who I am and what I’m doing in the room.
“Oh, of course,” she replies. “You two are engaged, aren’t you?”
I can’t help but smile as my eyes find Sebastian’s. “We are.”
“Hmmm.” She twists her lips and studies me across the table.
I shift, uncomfortable in my seat.
“Look, I’m going to be honest with you here,” she says, and instantly my back straightens as my nerves up. When do people ever have anything positive to say following the words “I’m going to be honest with you?”
Answer: never.
“As you know, the way Dating ended riled a few people up to say the least. Sure, your whole speech about messing things up and wanting Emma back was dead romantic, Sebastian, but the audience didn’t get to see your reunion. That’s why they’re having a hard time buying into you guys together. Well, that and the fact Emma was seen as the comic relief on the show.”
Wow. Just wow.
Sebastian leaps to my rescue. “That’s a bit harsh, Heather.”
“Falling out of the limo onto her bottom? That dreadful rendition of Old Town Road of hers where she replaced the lyrics with the word ‘horse’ repeatedly?”
I cringe at the memories.
“Come on, Sebastian, she was hardly the romantic lead.” She turns her attention briefly to me. “No offence, Emma.”
Offence! Offence!
“My point is, in the eyes of the viewers, it was either Camille—who, let’s face it, no one wanted you to end up with,