Scandalous Behavior

2

They sat, dressed for dinner, before a fire with a drink as the day waned. Stone had not reacted to Felicity’s suggestion that he should buy the place, but while he was showering and dressing he could not think of anything else.

“Let me tell you all I know,” Felicity said when they were settled.

“Please do.”

“Charles has a very carefully thought-out plan: he and his children despise each other. There’s no point in going into that history, but he says that if his son inherited, he would immediately apply for planning permission to build two hundred awful cottages on the property, and Charles won’t have that. He says that his daughter would redecorate the house garishly and sell it to the first person to make a reasonable offer, without regard to what sort of person that might be. Charles, like many Englishmen of his generation and his class, has a long list of persons in mind who qualify as unsuitable, among them Arabs and Russians, who are driving the market in expensive properties these days. Fortunately, Beaulieu is too far from London to have attracted their attention.

“Charles knows that if he dies owning the house, no matter who he leaves it to, a battle will ensue between his children and the unfortunate inheritor. Therefore, he wants to sell it prior to his death to keep it out of their hands, retaining a lifetime tenancy. As I have pointed out, that will likely be no more than a few months.

“You have a number of qualities that would cause Charles to consider you an attractive buyer: One, he would prefer an American gentleman to an unsuitable English spiv — that is, a flashy person of dubious means — who, to Charles’s way of thinking, doesn’t deserve the money he has somehow made. Two, you are clearly a gentleman, one with an affinity for things English, who will turn up tonight in a dinner suit, instead of a boldly striped nightmare. Three, you are already a person of considerable property, which indicates to Charles that you know how to manage it. Four, you fly an airplane, and he would hate to see his airfield meet the plow. And five, you can write a check for the property, with no delays for obtaining financing or other burdensome requirements that give the opportunity for local gossip, which he has always despised. He would like to sell it as quietly as possible, then present his neighbors and his children with a fait accompli.”

“And how large a check would Sir Charles expect me to write?”

“Ten million pounds, and let me remind you that the pound is down against the dollar. I need hardly tell you that that constitutes a screaming bargain in this market, especially with the fresh renovation.”

“I should think he could get twice that,” Stone observed.

“Yes, but you’re not reckoning on Charles’s way of calculating. What he wants is the house in proper hands, with the renovation and death duties paid and his loyal staff kept on, and a bit left over for distribution to a few charities he is fond of. Of course, he has other wealth — investments in stocks and business properties in London — but that doesn’t come into the equation.”

“How many staff?”

“A butler, a cook, and a property manager, and five others in the house, and eight or ten on the property — gardeners, stablemen, and laborers. He would like it if his horses lived out their lives on the estate, but he won’t insist.”

“Think about this carefully, Felicity, before you answer: Is there a catch in all this?”

Felicity laughed. “Two: his son and daughter will go out of their way to spread awful rumors about you, and you’ll have to put up with me as a neighbor.”

Stone laughed. “I think I can handle that.”

“I’ll defend you to the neighbors, and since I’m in London most of the time, anyway, I won’t care who you sleep with. You’ll have to buy me dinner now and then, though.”

With the sun sinking, Felicity took them down the Beaulieu River and across the Solent. There was little wind, and the sea was calm. They fetched up at the little marina maintained by the Royal Yacht Squadron. A tall, slender man in a beautifully cut suit awaited them and helped Felicity ashore, while a uniformed boatman took their lines.

“Charles,” Felicity said, “allow me to introduce you to Stone Barrington, of New York. Stone, this is Sir Charles Bourne.”

Both men said, “How do you do,” simultaneously, then they walked up the path to an old stone castle nestled close by the Solent. Sir Charles took them into a comfortable sitting room and rang for a steward, who took their drinks order. “Please give me a moment to change,” Charles said. “I’m fresh off the ferry from Southampton.” He vanished.

“Sir Charles seems to be everything he should be,” Stone said.

“He thinks the same of you,” Felicity replied. “I can tell. An upper-class English gentleman can feign a chilly warmth, but an Englishwoman will know the real thing when she sees it.”

“This is quite a place,” Stone said, looking around.

“The castle was built by Henry the Eighth, to repel the odious French, who never showed up. The Squadron is celebrating its bicentennial, having been founded in 1815, and is the second-oldest yacht club in the world, after the Royal Cork, which goes back to 1720. Sir Charles and I were practically born into it, both of us having fathers and grandfathers who were members. I was a Lady Associate member, until women were accepted as full members, and I became one of the first.”

Sir Charles returned, dressed in a Squadron Mess Kit, in the naval style.

“Well, now, Mr. Barrington,” he said, “are you enjoying your stay in England?”

“Please, it’s Stone, and I am very much enjoying my stay, although I arrived only this afternoon. I spent much of it enjoying your very beautiful property.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t greet you in its finished state, but we’re getting there. Susan Blackburn is actually a bit ahead of schedule, but I’m sure something will go wrong to correct that.”

“May I inquire about the origins of your title?” Stone asked.

“Oh, that arrived some thirty-odd years ago, at a time when I was giving rather too much money to the Conservative Party. Margaret Thatcher, who was a good friend, saw to it.”

“Somehow, I had thought it more ancient.”

“Like me, you mean?”

Stone smiled. “Hardly.”

The steward appeared and announced dinner.

They dined in the Members Dining Room, the only people there, and they were surrounded by portraits of former commodores of the Squadron gazing down on them, some of whom were kings. The conversation flowed freely.

“It’s nice that we have the place to ourselves,” Sir Charles said, when their dishes had been taken away, to be replaced by port and Stilton. “It will be crowded at the weekend, and I’m happy to have had the opportunity to get to know you, Stone.”

“Stone was very impressed with your property, Charles,” Felicity said.

“Particularly the airfield,” Stone said. He took his checkbook from his pocket and tore out one, already filled out. He signed it and handed it to Sir Charles. “I believe that is the correct amount?” he said.

Sir Charles put on his glasses and read the check carefully. “We have the same bank,” he said, tucking the check into a pocket and offering his hand.

Stone shook it. “Please give me a week to move the funds from New York.”

“Of course.”

“In the meantime, a member of my law firm’s London office will be in touch with your solicitor to prepare the necessary documents.”

Sir Charles handed him two business cards. “One is mine, the other, my solicitor’s. Will you be able to stay for the completion?”

“I’ll call my office and see if they can spare me,” Stone said.

They drank their port, then Sir Charles changed back into his suit, and they returned to Felicity’s boat. There was still a little light in the sky when they dropped off Sir Charles at his dock.

“Do you ride, Stone?” Bourne asked.

“Yes, Charles.”

“Then why don’t you wander over tomorrow morning, and I’ll give you a tour of the property on horseback. Stay for lunch.”

“I’d like that very much,” Stone said, “but I don’t have the clothes.”

“I can help you with that,” Felicity said.

“Ten o’clock, then?”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

They continued to Felicity’s dock.

“That went awfully well,” Felicity said as they walked up the path to her cottage. “Just as it should have gone.”

“I am absolutely thrilled,” Stone said. “Thank you so much for arranging everything so beautifully.”

Then they went upstairs and went to bed, something to which they had both been looking forward.