Page 24 of The Mad Marchams

“You did great.” Mabel stood and patted his cheek. “I was watching their reactions. They’ll be taking things way more seriously now.”

“About time, too.”

“I can’t believe some of them have never held an actual job.”

“That’s on my father. He should’ve insisted.” Colin eyed the rapidly diminishing cake. “They sure know how to eat, though.”

“Tours,” someone said from behind them.

Colin and Mabel both turned to see Mrs. Reynolds regarding them with an inquiring gaze.

“Of what?” Colin inquired.

“This place, of course.” The housekeeper made a wide gesture. “We used to do them back in the day, but your father stopped them when young Eric died.”

“I think that’s a great idea, Mrs. Reynolds,” Mabel spoke up. “And maybe you could do some kind of afternoon tea?”

Colin and Mrs. Reynolds looked at her and she blushed.

“Isn’t that what everyone does in England? Have afternoon tea? It’s not as if you don’t have plenty of rooms to have it in.”

“If I got the local W.I. ladies involved, we could probably do that. We could give it a try and see if it might earn some kind of profit.”

“W.I.?” Mabel looked at Colin, but it was Mrs. Reynolds who answered her.

“Women’s Institute. We have weekly meeting down in the village. You should come to one.”

“I’d love to,” Mabel said eagerly and punched her fist in the air. “I’m all for women-empowered movements.”

For a moment Mrs. Reynold’s startled gaze met Colin’s, and he tried not to smile.

“I’m not sure how revolutionary our current branch is, but they were definitely active during the custard tart wars of the late twentieth century,” Colin said. “Maybe Mrs. Reynolds could fill you in on their history when you go and visit?”

“That would be awesome!” Mabel said.

“Three o’clock in the village hall this upcoming Saturday. I’ll see you there.” Mrs. Reynold made her escape.

“If we did do tours, the W.I. might be able to provide docents,” Colin said. “Many of them have ancestors who’ve lived nearby for generations, and they’d have a great take on the history of the estate.”

“And you wouldn’t have to open up the whole house for these tours, right?” Mabel said as she joined the queue for tea. “You wouldn’t have to disrupt anyone who actually lives here, but the estate is large enough that you could host so many things. Weddings and events and dinners…”

Mabel and Colin took their tea and headed out onto the patio through the open French doors. The view over the gardens was spectacular here, and Mabel could only imagine what having your wedding in such an amazing space would be like. She turned to Colin and told him exactly that.

“Do you really think people would want events here?” Colin looked intrigued but doubtful, which was so very British of him. “I mean isn’t it a bit over the top?”

“You’re kidding, right? Who wouldn’t want to get married here?”

“We have the Temple in the grounds as well,” Colin said thoughtfully. “The one my ancestor nicked from Greece and reassembled in his backyard.”

“Like a real temple?”

“So, they say. Although I suppose it could’ve been any old pile of stones. It would make a nice venue to get married in.”

“Can we go see it?” Mabel asked.

He smiled, and she was relieved to see that a lot of his earlier tension had disappeared. Secretly, she was appalled at the number of relatives that the estate had been supporting but who had never lifted a finger to help their own family. At least fifty percent of his audience had looked mutinous, and she wondered whether he would follow through and start throwing people out. He seemed like he might be too nice to do that.

“I don’t see why not.” He took her cup and set it on the stone balustrade alongside his own and held out his hand. “Come along, then. Maybe you can tell me whether it’s a folly or the real thing.”