Everyone was in the blue salon -- this kind of drawing room lavished in robin's egg blue wallpaper and white and gold accented furniture -- and I just wanted to say that I was not enjoying every second.
On top of that, Natalie went on and on about the wedding and how excited she was. This was the most vexing time of my life.
"Anthony and I thought it best we arrive here early to spend more time with the family and to help with the preparations for the ball," the witch explained graciously, crossing her legs in her seat, making them glow better than ever in the sunlight slanting through the floor-to-ceiling window.
"We know," the dowager snapped, thumping her cane on the white and blue Aubusson carpet to prove her point. "You already told us that before my grandson and his fiancée arrived."
If Natalie thought Lady Cutting was being incredibly rude to her, she masked it well; I had to give her credit for that because most people positively quivered in her presence. The model merely blinked. "Oh! I apologise, Lady C," she said with an rueful smile. "I just wanted to tell Michael and Keller again so that they'd know why we're here early."
"I know another reason for that," Emerson muttered, crossing her arms.
"What was that, Em?"
Emerson looked up with wide eyes. "Nothing really. Just talking to myself again. Silly me!" she giggled absently, waving a hand. "I was just thinking about what gown I ought to wear on Saturday. Engagement ball, you know."
"I'm sure you'll look absolutely smashing in anything, Em!" Natalie took a scone, neatly eating it without getting crumbs on her impeccable dress.
"Oh how nice," Lady Cutting crooned, "she eats!"
Again, the supermodel didn't look offended. "Of course I do," she said with a nod and a serene smile. Then her eyes suddenly widened as she brought her hand to her bee stung lips. "Who made the scones? I must ask the chef about the ingredients!"
The dowager raised an eyebrow, as did Emerson and I. "You bake?"
"Well...I'm trying." Natalie blushed prettily.
Ha! She's good.
"So!" Michael clapped his hands once, making the women look at him. "It's wonderful seeing you and Anthony again, Natty," he pontificated with a smile. "How's modeling going? I heard that you had a photo shoot with Kate Moss for Versace?"
"Yes!" She laughed, which made her face even more beautiful, if that were even possible. "Kate's such a cool girl. She's very much out there, you know? She's great."
"Got booked anywhere?"
She nodded. "Nicole Miller booked me for her eyewear line and I've shot ads for Orla Kiely. Oh! And this is great because Valentino booked me for his spring collection in a month. It's going to be massive."
Show off.
"That traitorous Italian coot!" I heard the dowager hiss, glaring evilly at Natalie. She, on the other hand, looked perfectly confused, shrugging when she didn't get whatever it was the dowager was flipping out about. "Why, I --"
"Okay!" Michael exclaimed, his voice rising a little bit. Only the ones near him could see the warning look he gave his grandmother. Lady Cutting surprisingly held her tongue, with her lips pursed.
"You said you got a surprise, Natty? An early wedding gift?" he asked his ex politely, raising his eyebrows. "What is it?"
Natalie actually glowed, leaning forward in her seat to grin at all of us sitting in the main area. "I got a shot for my friend, Marc Tuisson, an all-the-rage upcoming designer! Emerson, Keller, myself, and Frederick's fiancé...I haven't met her yet so I don't know her name --"
"Vivian," I interjected helpfully, giving her a wobbly smile.
"Right! Vivian. The four of us will have a photo shoot tomorrow here at the estate. It will be a five-page spread! We'll all be dressed elegantly and gorgeously, and also, darling Anna Wintour liked my idea about having the three brides with their grooms doing a shoot together for their exclusive wedding edition. That'll be next month. An interview is part of the deal, but I didn't want to add that because I know some of you don't want to be interviewed, though they want that to happen so I had no choice."
I buckled in my seat, my mind alert now. "Why do we have to do all that shooting and stuff?"
"You see," Natalie started, looking innocent, "it would really let people get to know the new It couples! It's going to be lovely, you'll see."
I tensed and Michael seemed to sense that, too, so he took a step closer beside me and held my hand.
"Wow," Emerson piped in, standing up from the velvet settee. "I'm so excited about the photo shoots coming! I'm sure we're all going to be so glam!"
"No doubt about that, Em." Natalie winked; then she turned to me. "What do you reckon?"
"I don't know...this is all so shocking," I said, feeling numb. I mean, yeah, it was pretty exciting that Natalie got us booked for magazine shoots and all, but still. I had a feeling this was not going to go down well. "But...er..." -- I shrugged -- "let's just go and have fun, right?"
"Right!"
"Check and mate." We all turned our gazes to Anthony Wattson, who was talking in his deep English voice, knocking down Maxwell Cutting's king on the board. "I win again."
"You're the only one who can beat me besides my own mother," Maxwell announced in astonishment.
"I take that as a huge compliment, your grace."
"Indeed you should, my boy," the dowager said with a sniff, lifting her chin an inch to show her smugness.
"I take it best at heart, madam." Anthony grinned boyishly, rivaling Michael's own smile and charm.
"Hehehe," the dowager clucked, shaking her head, laughing mirthfully. "I certainly like you, young man. Always have. And see? You beat my son at chess! Smart lad," she complimented.
Anthony bowed his head in respect toward the dowager. "I do my best. It certainly is a trifle hard to simply best the duke at anything --"
"Nonsense," Maxwell huffed gruffly, putting back the magnificent marble chess pieces inside the board's compartment. "You beat me three times. Certainly, that's not difficult?"
"He's just being modest," Emerson intercepted, leaning her shoulder on the window sill. She grinned. "Anthony here has always been sickeningly polite, being the gentleman that he is."
I felt Michael tense, based on the way his back suddenly became rigid and his hand squeezing my own rather tightly.
Natalie's brother chuckled. "Yeah, but we still become honorable when we can. It's in our nature."
The duke stood up, looking at all of us. "If you will excuse me, everyone, I will be in my room to rest. Many things to do tomorrow. Business, preparations for the ball on Saturday --"
"Oh!" Natalie said, making everyone stare at her. "It's no problem, your grace. I can help with the preparations. I'd love to help Lady Cutting."
The lady mentioned merely grumbled in response.
Maxwell smiled, but it was a little odd for him because he seemed like the type of man that didn't smile quite often. "That's what I like about you, my dear," he complimented. "You always know what to say." Natalie thanked him with a blush. "And you," he smacked Anthony's back heartily, "be prepared for our next chess game, lad. I'm going to beat you next time."
"We'll see, sir," Anthony said with a challenge in his blue eyes, smirking.
The duke left with a booming laugh that echoed through the entire room.
I looked at Michael -- he looked...well...royally pissed, to say the least. For some reason, I thought he was jealous of Anthony Wattson and the bond the young man had with his father.
But I said nothing.
^^^^^
"She said that?" Vivian exclaimed, looking aghast.
She long finished Spy with Frederick and now they were in the room my best friend and I were staying in, along with Emerson and the dowager, who was visiting. Maxwell was said to be asleep again, after having dinner with the family, in the master bedroom, while Michael was in his room, glaring at the fireplace, nursing a glass of whiskey in hand.
It was already ten in the evening, and everyone was dressed (except the dowager) in their pyjamas. If you call the girls wearing custom-made Armani night gowns embroidered with silk, lace threads at the bodice, complete with velvety gem-colored robes "pyjamas." Frederick, on the other hand, was wearing a plain black shirt and grey sweats.
"Yes!" the dowager answered emphatically to Vivian's previous question. "Are you daft, girl? I just said the whole story!"
Vivian glared at her. "Well, soh-rry for trying to actually believe the whole tale while Fred and I were watching a totally awesome movie!" she retorted.
Lady Cutting looked over at Frederick, who was trying to hold back his laughter at the whole scene. "I like her. Has spunk."
Instantly Frederick sobered, eyeing Viv with affection. "I know," he said gently.
Viv was too heated up to even hear what he'd confirmed. "The bitch! We have to create a plan. Like...like kidnapping her from her sleep, binding her wrists behind her back, covering her mouth with a wrap and throwing her down a Highland cliff!"
Everyone gaped at her.
"What?" she demanded hotly, looking uncomfortable with all the scrutiny she was receiving from all of us.
Let's just say Viv had met Natalie at dinner. First thing she'd noticed was that the model was gorgeous, but she'd sensed something evil, so she hadn't liked the Natalie immediately, but...
"Who are you?" I asked my best friend in shock.
"That's totally evil," Frederick seconded, widening his eyes at his fiancée.
"Radically evil," Emerson followed, slightly quirking an eyebrow.
"That's a GREAT idea!" the dowager boomed, thumping her cane. "But might I suggest burning her alive and then we --"
"Grandmama!" Frederick looked thoroughly shocked.
"It was only an idea," she grumbled defensively.
I cleared my throat. "Anyway," I went on, "everyone here seems to have the same thoughts about Natalie. She's a total --"
"Cellophane?" Lady Cutting finished for me.
I stared at her, blinking. Marge Swinton.
"Well, yeah," I agreed, averting my gaze and clearing my suddenly clogged throat. "It's obvious she's just trying to be nice toward me and everyone else."
"She's trying to make all of us believe that she's such a nice person," Viv said sourly, with an expression that said as much as her words.
"And trying to steal my brother!"
I think I swallowed a fly that time. When I heard those words said by Emerson, I didn't feel good. I tucked my knees under the skirt of my nightgown, hugging them tight with my arms. I rested my chin on my knees, looking dismayed. Viv noticed I looked scared and sad, so she placed her hand in mine, giving me a reassuring smile.
Meanwhile Frederick, the dowager, and Emerson were arguing about what to do.
"Send her to Africa?" Emerson suggested.
Lady Cutting snorted. "The chit will have plenty of connections."
"Strip her of all her belongings and contacts and then send her to Africa?"
"Hmm. You have a point..."
Frederick rolled his eyes at the absurdity of his relatives' crazy ideas. "You guys are impossible. You can't send her to Africa."
"Why ever not?" grandmother and granddaughter demanded in chorus.
"Because," he gritted, "she has relatives there who are zoologists. Natalie went to Uganda for a whole week, staying at her uncle's townhouse with her cousins. Obviously, she'll have help. Besides! We are not going to send her to bloody Africa."
The dowager and Emerson sighed. He had a point. As always. Here was Frederick, the practical one. Uganda was perfect! But then he had to point out that Natalie had relatives there who could help her go back to England. Might possibly sue us if she ever knew that we were the ones behind her demise.
"This is stupid!" I exclaimed, knocking my forehead on my knees. "We can't do anything to get her off our skin. The duke likes her and I'm sure Michael would not like this, too."
"Oh, please," Emerson scoffed, crossing her arms. "She drove him completely mad when they were together; never left his side! She always interrogated us about who he was with when she was not with him. She knew wherever he went and who he was with. Basically, Michael got totally irritated and had enough, that's why he broke up with her."
I stared at them all.
"It's true," Frederick admitted with a shrug. "Michael always comes to me or Emerson when he has a problem. He was always frustrated and irritated that time. He kept complaining about Natalie and her psychotic suspicions."
Em nodded. "He thought she was beautiful and incredibly attractive, but when they started dating, he couldn't get rid of her and be free. It's amazing, come to think of it, that they're still somewhat friends."
"If that were me, I'd escape her immediately," Frederick stated emphatically.
"You're too nice," Emerson snapped.
"That's true," the dowager agreed.
He sniffed, rolling his eyes.
"But Michael did escape her," Viv pointed out, connecting the pieces to the puzzle. "He went to California to be free not only from the stress due to being disinherited and looking for a candidate to be his wife. He also went to California to escape Natalie too."
Everyone nodded in agreement at her thoughts.
"But what are we going to do?" I wailed, burying my face in my hands.
Emerson and Viv looked at each other and smirked.
"Here's the plan..."
^^^^^
Nothing works! I screamed inside my head.
"She's obviously too smart than we give her credit for," Emerson complained.
Viv stomped her way toward us, a scowl on her pretty face. "I can't believe this!"
The three of us stood near the open tent the duke had the servants set up, looking cross and flushed with frustration. We did all we could think of to reveal Natalie's schemes with her brother and her moves on Michael.
We found nothing.
First, we went with Viv's plan, which was to get Natalie drunk and make her confess, but we found out that Natalie was not a drinker, so we threw that plan away. We then found out that the model had acid reflux, and anything that made her stomach churl was going to be gruesome. So we mixed some alcohol in her drink along with anything that could cause her stomach chaos but she only sniffed at the drink we made the servant give her, and she immediately knew there was alcohol in it, so she smiled at the servant prettily and asked him sweetly if he could replace her drink with water. The guy was so love sick, it was disgusting to even witness it from across the room.
We tried tripping her accidentally, but Natalie was good at balancing because of all the heels she wore to runways. She never fell, not even once, to our attempted tripping scheme!
Frederick said we were doing childish plots and we were all being "bleeding idiots." He had been trying to stay away from our troubles, but when he saw Emerson, Viv and I, who were desperate yet determined, he started helping us by placing secret cameras in Natalie's guest bedroom and placing a biro, that looked exactly like Natalie's favorite biro, with a mic in it that she would never notice. Frederick said he noticed that she always carried the pink biro with her, writing on her little planner.
We asked where he got his toys, and he said the security room in Rossington Park had lots of high-powered security gadgets. He was close with the guards.
The two girls and I also went spying on Natalie. She talked with Michael happily about new fashion shows coming up and about Michael's upcoming engagement ball. She said she was glad for him and me. This made me pretty guilty. I felt like stopping our childish schemes because it seemed like Natalie meant no harm and that she was really a perfectly nice young lady.
Until Emerson and Viv pointed out to me that I told them about the model's cold smile and the warning looks she gave my way when I wasn't aware.
This made me change my mind about stopping everything.
"Still a fail, I see," Frederick chirped, coming toward us in a red shirt, black hoodie, and jeans.
Viv turned to him. "Got anything on cam?"
He sighed. "Nope. Marvin" -- a security in the estate -- "and I checked earlier. We only saw Natalie talking to her model friends about some fashion show they've booked at in a month. And...um..."
"Yes?" Viv asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Frederick blushed.
Emerson and I looked at each other and our lips twitched.
"We...um..." God, he was reddening even more. It was adorable. Frederick placed a hand behind his neck. "We saw Natalie dress up in her room. Kind of."
Viv's eyebrows shot up. "That hot?"
"Victoria's Secret model body, you know," Emerson added, laughing. "She's proper fit, that girl."
Viv sighed. "She has a great body then."
"But I swear," Fred pressed in a rush, touching her hand, "I made Marvin shut the camera once she started stripping off completely! Besides, I prefer girls with curves."
Despite herself, Viv laughed, kissing his cheek. "Thanks."
I groaned, eyeing Natalie being helped up by Michael and Anthony. The two guys didn't speak to one another, but they cooperated in helping Natalie get up, while her borrowed horse, Whinny, was being taken back to the stables.
This was Emerson's plan. First, she announced that we should poison Natalie, but that didn't work out because none of us -- except, maybe, the dowager and Viv -- agreed, while, also, it was illegal to buy poison. She thought of rat poison, but Fred stopped her from further thoughts of poison and all its variety. Her next plan was today, which was inviting Natalie and her brother to a race. To loosen the suspicions, everything went smoothly. We rode into the forest, but we didn't reach Alberca Cottage, then when we all got back here, Emerson placed a small rock on Whinny's back. When the second round of the race began, Natalie fell from Whinny because the horse felt the pressure of the rock on his back as the supermodel sat on him.
Natalie didn't break any bones or got completely hurt. She was even laughing when we all saw her fall. Her back and bum was full of dirt, but that didn't stop her from looking beautiful.
With a signal from Emerson to the attending servant, he took Whinny to the stables to take the rock off without anyone noticing.
"Bloody, bloody, bloody hell!" Em cursed, stomping her booted foot in frustration. "Why can't she just fall for our schemes and be done with it?"
"Because you're all not doing it well!"
Everyone jumped when we heard the dowager bark her words from behind. She was wearing one of her elegant dress-suits, cane in hand.
I sighed. "Nothing worked, we know. What do you suggest we do?"
The dowager looked at all of us. "You'll figure something out, my dears. I'll add my own plan once you have something up your sleeves that will definitely make everyone see that chit's true color. In the meantime, let's have a cup of tea, shall we?"
"Or," I put in gently, "I could just talk to Michael."
Why haven't I though of this earlier? Jesus.
Everyone just stared at me. And then, the dowager said quietly, "That sounds better, my dear. I would never want you to repeat the same mistakes I knew someone did once."
"Who?"
"Someone I knew very well. Myself."
^^^^^
That night, as Viv was murmuring incoherent things in her sleep beside me, I opened my flashlight and took the diary from under the bed. I told Humphrey to put it in the room, and when I found it, it was under the bed. He was one good butler.
Anyway, I started to read Countess Lockley's diary once again, skipping unimportant happenings and going about the interesting ones written.
7 December 1950
Rossington Park
My Chamber
Dearest Diary,
Tomorrow is the annual Winter Caser ball. I shall be wearing an ice blue silk gown that will suit my coloring very well. Mama and Papa said I will look smashing in my gown tomorrow evening, and I cannot deny that. Also, coming to the ball are the Carters, Lord and Lady Marshall -- including Aurora. I have been planning for a long time to see her fall down, but I just cannot, because she is too clever for all my plans.
My friends try to help me, but it's quite difficult to think of something when one girl is as witty as my Aunt Greta. I admire myself for my wit, but Aurora rival's my own! Why, two days ago, she told me to stay away from HER Maxwell! The COW! I told her she better watch out, and she said she always has watched out when it comes to me. But tomorrow...I will cause the humiliation of a lifetime on her. I swear, she is not the charming young lady people think of her. I see something different. She is mean to me. Evil, in fact! If she wants evil, I will give her a proper showdown.
^^^^^
The next morning came and we all finished breakfast. As soon as we were out of sight, Frederick pulled me by the elbow and whispered something in my ear. "You wouldn't believe what I just heard Natalie say on tape."
"What is it?" Emerson and Viv asked together, looking over our shoulder. We were in the drawing room, just the four of us.
Frederick opened his MacBook and popped the CD into the drive. When the video appeared, we saw Natalie pacing back and forth inside her room, hands on her slender hips.
"God!" she said in frustration, raking a hand through her golden hair. "I know what they're all up to. I just sodding know it."
Sitting on the end of the bed, was her brother Anthony, sitting quietly. "Meaning?" he asked cautiously.
She glared at him. "They want to get rid of me! The monsters! Especially that...that Keller. I don't know what Michael sees in that American bitch," she hissed.
"Hey," Anthony warned, his voice firm. "Don't talk to her like that. She's nice, actually."
"You're my brother and you're on her side!" Natalie accused, shaking her finger at him.
"I didn't say that. Besides, I'm not on anyone's side. I'm here to enjoy being a guest and to attend the ball tomorrow."
"I hate you!" she snapped, throwing a brush at him. She acted like she was five and a spoiled brat. Luckily, Anthony caught the brush on time, making him glare at his sister. She groaned, turning her back on him. She chewed on her lip, thinking. "Piss off, Anthony. You're always no fun. Anyway, if they want to be rid of me, they bloody well can't. I am not going to leave without having Michael back."
Anthony looked alert. "What are the hell are you planning to do?" he demanded.
She turned to him, smiling sweetly. "Something that will make that American bitch release Michael. He'll never lay eyes on her again. And you, my dear brother, will help me."
"No, Natalie," her brother said with a resigned sigh. "I won't do whatever it is you're planning."
"FINE!" she screeched, trying to scratch at his face. He held her wrists. "I'll do it myself! But you're going to regret not helping me! I hate you, I hate you!"
Anthony pushed her away from him, making her thud on the floor. He looked worried and tried to help her up, but she tried to kick him away.
"You never loved me," Natalie whispered brokenly, sobbing on the floor. "You know I love him so much."
Anthony sighed. "You're becoming mad, Nat."
"You never loved me!" she hissed.
"Never say never, sister," Anthony said quietly, finally carrying her and placing her on the bed, covering her long body with a duvet. He kissed her forehead. "But I won't be part of your little game. Not anymore. I'm done."
When he left, Natalie threw a perfume bottle as the door closed.
"Bingo," Emerson murmured, looking at us with wide eyes.
Bingo, indeed.