Stone Barrington 36 - Scandalous Behavior (14 page)

“I’ll pick you up in an hour. We have an appointment with Lady Curtis to view the place.” She hung up.

Stone put down the phone.

“You look as if someone has just punched you in the gut,” Susan said. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Stone said.

—

F
elicity showed up on time in a Jaguar saloon, and they got in. “Now listen to me, Stone,” Felicity said, spinning the car around and pointing it down the driveway, “I know you don’t want to buy this place, but you’ve got to pretend to be interested, so that we can slow down Glynnis’s decision-making process. She’s frightened of her future and very vulnerable, so the offer from the cult seems to her like a lifeline. She has to be persuaded to think there is another way forward. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Stone said, “but I am
not
going to buy this place.”

They turned onto the main road and drove for a mile or so, then turned into a drive marked by an elegant gateway. High stone walls stretched away in both directions.

“If that wall goes down to the river on both sides of the estate,” Susan said, “it’s a million pounds’ worth of masonry.”

“I’m happy for Lady Curtis,” Stone said.

The house came into view, and it was impressive. “It’s half again as large as Windward Hall,” he said.

“Twice as large,” Susan replied, “perhaps more.”

They pulled to a stop in front of the house and climbed the stairs to the front door and rang the bell. Lady Curtis herself opened the door, and introductions were made.

“I’m sorry I haven’t had the opportunity to meet you sooner, Mr. Barrington,” she said, “but circumstances intervened.”

“I’m very glad to be able to meet you now, Lady Curtis,” he replied.

“Let me give you the ten-shilling tour,” she said, “and then we’ll have some lunch.”

They followed her through a succession of elegant rooms filled with fine paintings and sculptures. The wallpaper was peeling here and there, and the paint could have been better. The style of decorating was heavy for Stone’s taste. There was a huge drawing room, a large library, a conservatory, a billiards room, a writing room, and a music room, with a concert grand piano and a harp. Then they toured the second and third floors; Stone quickly lost count of the number of bedrooms. They also toured the lower level, where there was an Edwardian-era kitchen and servants hall, plus quarters for the help. The utility rooms were clean, and the equipment looked serviceable, if old.

They went back to the conservatory, where a cold lunch was served by uniformed staff. At one point Lady Curtis was called to the phone, and Susan tugged at Stone’s sleeve.

“I told you that I am meeting with a possible client, a hotel group, on Monday.”

“I remember,” Stone said.

“I think I could interest them in this place,” she said, “if it came to them thoroughly renovated. They are known to prefer properties in a move-in condition.”

“How much to renovate the place?” Stone asked.

“A wild guess? Five million pounds, if we don’t have to replace all the bathroom fixtures. I think the old ones could be
refinished, and they add charm. Have you visited Cliveden, the former home of the Astors?”

“Yes, a couple of times.”

“A renovation much like that, albeit on a smaller scale.”

“Another good reason not to buy the place,” Stone said.

Felicity had been listening closely. “I like the way you think, Susan. Now, when Glynnis comes back, let me do the talking. You, in particular, Stone, shut up.”

Lady Curtis returned and apologized for her absence. “That was the estate agents,” she said. “They’re pressing for an acceptance.”

“Glynnis,” Felicity said, “I urge you not to be rushed into this deal. The buyers are unsavory people, and I believe that if you can give me a week or so, I might be able to come up with a better buyer, perhaps even a better offer. Have you signed an agreement to be represented by the estate agents?”

“Not yet; they’re pressing for that, too.”

“You would clear more from the sale if you didn’t have to pay their commission.”

Lady Curtis brightened. “A good point, Felicity, yes, I’ll give you a week to see what you can do.”

They thanked her for the tour and lunch, then excused themselves.

“That is an
extraordinary
property,” Susan said, as soon as they were in the car. “I could make it into the most spectacular country hotel in Europe. What do you think, Stone?”

“I think you could certainly do that, if you can interest your hotelier in the property.”

“Did I mention that the estate is some two hundred acres and that there are at least a dozen cottages on the property?” Felicity asked. “Those could be done up and rented, as well.”

“Thank you, Felicity,” Stone said, “but no dice.”

“I’ll take that as a maybe,” Felicity replied, gunning the Jaguar.

24

T
hey got back to the house, and Stone took Felicity into the library, where the gang awaited, and introduced her to everyone.

“Where have you been?” Peter asked.

“We’ve just seen the most glorious house,” Susan said, “and it’s right next door.” She told him about the place.

“I want to see it,” Peter said.

Stone sat up straight. “Why?”

“It sounds interesting. I might find a way to work it into the script.”

“I’ll take you back right now,” Felicity said. “Let me phone Lady Curtis.”

“But you haven’t even had lunch,” Stone said to Peter.

“Yes, we have, we’d just finished when you arrived. Do you want to come with us?”

“There isn’t room in the car,” Stone said.

Peter and Ben and their girls left with Felicity.

“I don’t like the way this is going,” Stone said to Susan.

“Why ever not? They’ll enjoy seeing it.”

“You’re all going to gang up on me. I can see it coming.”

“Nonsense. Read a magazine or something. There’s a stack of
Country Life
over there.”

Stone picked up a magazine and found it filled with country estates for sale. “The last thing I want to read,” he said, flinging it across the room.

Billy Barnett spoke up. “Is the lady you just introduced to us, Dame Felicity Devonshire, the head of MI6?”

“She is,” Stone said, “and she missed her calling: she should have been a real estate agent.”

“I know the style of decoration is out of date,” Susan said, “not at all what you like, but when I’m done, you’ll love it.”

“I don’t have to love it—your hotelier prospective client will, no doubt. At least, I hope he does.”

“I’ve had another idea, too,” she said.

Stone threw up his hands. “Can we change the subject, please? I’ve already heard too much about that house.”

“As you wish,” she said frostily. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do. Let me know when it’s dinnertime.” She walked briskly out of the room.

“Now I’ve done it,” Stone groaned. “She won’t speak to me for the rest of the weekend.”

—

P
eter came back, raving about Curtis House. “It’s incredible! I wouldn’t want to live there, but wow! What a property! Did you see the cottages?”

“No,” Stone said, “and I don’t think the house would be a good investment for your trust.”

“No? I think Susan could do it up, and we could sell it at a very nice profit.”

“That would be a very large bet.”

“One I could afford to lose,” Peter pointed out.

“That’s not a good investment attitude, it’s a roll of the dice.”

“I like the fact that it’s available right away.”

“Take a few deep breaths, Peter.”

Felicity came into the room. “I’ve just spoken with the Home Secretary,” she said, “and told him about this Calhoun person. He’d already heard about him from MI5, who have reported to him that the man is on his way to London as we speak. He’s agreed to declare him an undesirable person and have him stopped at the airport and sent back on the next flight. Both Heathrow and Gatwick have been alerted.”

“Now that is very good news,” Stone said. “I’ll bet he was coming to look at Curtis House.”

“That could very well be—he’d be mad to buy the place sight unseen.”

“The bad news is, he
is
mad,” Stone said. “Or, at least, he sounds that way. Did I tell you I saw the FBI file on the man? I’ll have it sent to you, if you like.”

“Oh, yes, please,” Felicity said. “I’ll need all the ammunition I can get to persuade the secretary to ban him permanently.”

Stone called Joan and asked her to copy the file and FedEx it to Felicity. “You’ll have it Monday morning,” he told her.

“I can’t wait to read it. Where’s Susan gone?”

“She said she had some work to do.”

“You annoyed her with your attitude about the house, didn’t you?”

“Probably. You two have got Peter on my back about it now.”

“Oh, he loved it, and Lady Curtis loved him. A match made in heaven.”

“I’m not sure you’ve got your geography right,” Stone said.

Susan came into the library. “I’ve just spoken with my assistant and there’s some work I have to do in London before my meeting on Monday. Could you ask Stan to drive me? My bags are all packed.”

“Of course,” Stone said, and nothing else he could say to her made a difference.

25

S
tone, knowing he had gone too far, e-mailed Susan:

My Dear Susan, I want to apologize for making such an argument about Curtis House. I overreacted, and I did not mean to make you the brunt of that. The next time I refuse to buy it, I will be kinder.

He got an e-mail back, saying:

I am at fault for harrying you about the house. The next time I urge you to buy it I will use fewer words.

—

S
tone had breakfast in bed, as usual, and read the Sunday papers. He was going to have to find out how to get the
New York Times
delivered in England, even if it was a day late.

There was a knock on his bedroom door. “Come in!”

Peter came into the room. “Ben had a thought last night that might play into your decision about whether to buy Curtis House.”

Stone almost yelled, but caught himself. “Yes?”

“If I use the big house in my film, Ben thinks we can charge a substantial part of the renovations to my budget, without raising the studio’s hackles.”

“That’s certainly an attractive idea,” Stone said, “but, speaking as a board member, I think you should be frank with Centurion about what you’re doing and get specific approvals in advance of building that into your budget. It might also help to have Susan prepare a room-by-room budget. You certainly won’t be using the whole house. Also, you shouldn’t plunge ahead on your script until you know who is going to own the house. I don’t think Dr. Don would be open to your using it.”

“Good point, Dad. Are you getting out of bed today?”

“I’m considering it.”

“Why don’t you and I take a ride after lunch?”

“Horse or Porsche?”

“I was thinking horse. Nobody else seems much interested. Hattie has discovered your Steinway, and she wants to work on
some ideas she has for the score of the film, and I think Ben plans to spend the afternoon screwing his girl.”

“You’re on, kiddo.”

—

T
hey rode across the meadow in front of the house and into the woods, along a well-beaten trail. It was cool under the trees, and they slowed to a walk to better enjoy the air.

“Dad, what’s that?” Peter asked. He was pointing at a small structure.

“That,” Stone said, “is the hermitage, where the hermit lived.”

“Hermit?”

Stone turned his horse and rode slowly toward the little house, while he told Peter about the killing of Sir Richard Curtis and the confession and suicide of the hermit, Wilfred Burns. He gave him all the background on the service in the Royal Marines of Burns, Curtis, and Sir Charles Bourne.