‘Quite,’ he replies. ‘Especially in the seasons when the house is open to the public. The place is either crawling with people or it’s just me and the staff – I would go mad, if I didn’t have my dogs. Of course, with the staff, it never quite feels like company, though they are friendly enough.’
‘No, I totally get that,’ I reply.
‘That feeling, of coming home to an empty house, it’s something I’ve never quite got used to – since Father died,’ he continues. ‘It’s the reason why I know I need to settle down – aside from the silly pressure to procreate, to produce an heir – just to have someone to come home to, to have someone to live life with. What’s the use in having twenty-one bedrooms and no one in them?’
‘It’s a tale as old as time, needing to find someone to knock up, so you have a boy to inherit your title,’ I joke, instantly regretting my choice of words and my tone. I can’t help but find all the old-fashioned nonsense kind of daft.
He laughs – possibly just politely.
‘There should be an app for that, really,’ I joke. ‘A dating app that is exclusively for finding partners befitting the upper class.People could put things on their profile like “lady material” and “marchioness in training”.’
‘Such an app does indeed exist,’ he points out – and he isn’t joking. ‘I had a quick look once, egged on by my friends, and it really was quite intense. You had to meet certain criteria – to show wealth, as though that is a measure of anything. There are some incredibly rich people from working-class backgrounds, and I know plenty of noblemen who can barely afford to get by – there’s a reason we open our big houses to the public – so it really is a rather pointless measure of a person. Money should never come into it, when it comes to finding true love.’ He laughs at himself. ‘I don’t know if that makes me sound terribly old-fashioned or just frightfully corny, but that’s the way I’ve always looked at it. I want someone who loves me in spite of the title, the house and the expectations – not because of them.’
I smile back at him. Is it possible that Beau could be a rare creature in a world full of beasts? The rest of them all feel the same: preoccupied with class, money and status – and they’re all interlinked. Beau seems to look at the world in a different way. He knows he’s rich and privileged but he doesn’t seem to think it matters. I mean, really, it’s all just down to luck, isn’t it? He was lucky enough to be born to an earl who passed the title (and the big house) on. My fortune played out differently, and I had a normal upbringing with my mum, and it may seem like I missed out but I wouldn’t change a thing. I know, it’s easy to say when you’re on the outside looking in, but the idea that I could have been as out of touch and (let’s not beat about the bush) snooty as Seph makes me feel kind of sick.
‘Ah, now, speaking of apps – did I hear someone saying you and Ethan build them for a living?’ he asks.
I mean, I’m a part of the machine, sure, but I don’t build apps any more than the people who clean the building or do the accounts do.
‘Yes,’ I say – because that sounds much better.
‘Any I might have used?’ he asks.
Oh, I seriously doubt that.
‘Potentially,’ I reply, trying to think of a way to move the conversation along. ‘I’m actually working on something of my own. It’s only at the planning stage right now but I think it’s something really special – a must-have app for women. It might be something I work on separately from my day job though.’
Because the idiots at work don’t take my ideas seriously.
‘You know, I have multiple revenue streams – one of which comes from investing in small businesses and entrepreneurs. I would love to know more about your app – later, when we’re not supposed to be relaxing, of course – and, well, if it sounds good it could be just the venture for me. I want to get into tech.’
‘Wow, really?’ I reply, trying not to sound too keen. Isn’t it silly how we’ve been conditioned over the years to downplay our emotions, especially to men? ‘Yeah, ahem, yes. Yes, I would love to talk more about it later.’
As we approach a bin, Beau takes my rubbish from me and places it inside.
‘Now then, any requests, or would you like me to make some suggestions, for what we do next?’ he asks. ‘I know some women favour scenery over shopping, playing games over peace and quiet – I’m sure we could still participate in the cricket, if we head back now.’
He laughs, letting me know that he’s joking about that last part, and I laugh too until I realise something. Shit. I do actually need to go shopping, and the reason for that is because the only thing I brought with me was the fuck you/fuck me black dress, and Beau may be more down to earth than the rest, but that dress is not befitting someone who you might find on the arm of an earl. No way. It is not a dress for royalty, it’s a dress for royally pissing people off. So I need to buy a bloody dress.
Let’s think, let’s think… how do I spin this?
‘Well, I’m not usually one for shopping while I’m on holiday,’ I tell him, which is only true in that I can rarely afford to go on holiday, and when I can – as a direct consequence – I can’t afford to shop. ‘However, I do need to buy a dress for the wedding.’
I notice Beau’s eyebrows rise as he wonders why I don’t have one so late in the day.
‘The airline lost one of my bags,’ I lie. ‘And of course it was the one with my wedding attire within it.’
Yes, I’m still trying to keep my accent as neutral as possible and, yes, whenever I try to fancy up my sentences they only seem to make less sense. I swear, everyone else throws unnecessary words into their sentences, and it just makes them sound sophisticated. When I do, it sounds like I’m drunkenly slurring my words.
‘Oh, nightmare,’ Beau replies.
‘So I am going to need to go shopping, in fact,’ I say – ugh, even that sounded ridiculous. ‘But thank you for a lovely walk.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Beau insists.
‘Oh, no, don’t feel like you have to trek to the city with me,’ I reply.
‘Bondi Junction isn’t far,’ he replies. ‘As I recall, they have a Chanel, Dior – plenty of lovely little designer boutiques. You’ll be sure to find something.’
