Scandalous Behavior

27

Stone called Susan. “All right, I’ve taken your suggestion: Marcel is coming tomorrow, which means you have to come down tonight so we can give him a tour of the Curtis estate early in the day.”

“I can do that,” Susan said.

He hung up and called Felicity, explained things to her, and asked her to tell Glynnis to expect callers in the morning. He hung up feeling the first twinges of excitement about Curtis House.

Marcel and Lady Curtis got on immediately and well. She showed them the house, top to bottom, while Susan took photographs with a digital camera, and there followed another lunch in the conservatory. After coffee, Marcel begged to have a moment alone with Stone. “You say she has an offer for twenty-two million pounds?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll offer her twenty-two million five?”

“Good.”

“To include the furnishings?”

“We can ask. If she doesn’t go for that, we can have Susan go through the house and designate pieces for us to make an offer on.”

“Agreed.”

They went back into the conservatory. “Lady Curtis,” Marcel said, “I am pleased to offer you twenty-two million, five hundred thousand pounds for your house and its contents.”

Lady Curtis didn’t bat an eye. “I will accept your offer, but excluding the art in the drawing room, the library, and the master suite.”

Marcel glanced at Stone and got a tiny nod. “Done.” He stood up and took her hand. “I will have a contract and a check for ten percent of the purchase price in your hands tomorrow morning, and we will close as quickly as our respective lawyers will allow us.”

“Oh, good,” she said.

Marcel gave her hand a kiss, and they were gone.

“I don’t believe it,” Susan said when they were in the car. “Do you always do business so quickly?”

“Delay and doubt are always partners,” Marcel replied. “And you will be our designer for the Curtis Arrington?”

“I will be delighted. I have enough photos to begin work tomorrow.”

“I have a thought,” Stone said. He told her about Peter’s desire to work in England until his film was done. “We have a dozen unoccupied staff bedrooms at Windward Hall,” he said. “The staff, over the years, has moved either into the cottages or into Beaulieu. Why don’t you make your first design job converting those rooms into work space for Peter’s crowd and for you? The two of you can collaborate.”

“And I will turn the servants’ rooms at Curtis House into hotel rooms,” Marcel said. “If we include the cottages, we’ll have forty-odd guest rooms to sell.”

“I’m going to have to start hiring those people your firm recommended, Stone,” Susan said. “And I’m going to make an offer on the building in Wandsworth for our shops. I’ve had a word with my bankers already.”

“You know,” Stone said, “a month ago none of this was real. Now we’re going to be giving work to a couple of hundred talented people for the rest of the year, at least, and early next year there will be a record on film of what we did.”

“It’s breathtaking,” Susan said.

The news of the acquisition of Curtis House was met with glee by Peter and his entourage, and a celebratory dinner was instantly arranged.

Stone called Felicity. “It’s done,” he said.

“I know, I’ve already talked to Glynnis.”

“You see how you manipulate me?”

“Manipulate is a vulgar word. I simply offer you irresistible opportunities.”

“Come to dinner tonight?”

“Oh, how I wish I could, but the Muddle East occupies me nonstop.”

The cook at Windward Hall, on six hours’ notice, shopped, cooked, and served dinner for nine people as if it were an everyday matter, and Stone plundered his new cellars for wines that would please Marcel. Everyone went to bed happy, especially Stone, who was relieved to have Susan back in his bed, if only for a night. Perhaps he could persuade her to make it two, or even longer.

The following morning, Susan, Peter, and Ben toured the empty servants’ quarters below, and Susan drew up specifications for the electrician to beef up the wiring and Wi-Fi arrangements for the rooms and made a list of desks and chairs to order from London.

—

And in a London hotel Dr. Don Beverly Calhoun took the news of the loss of Curtis House with ill grace, firing his estate agents.