In the Brazilian's Debt(75)
There was no point being angry that he hadn’t confided in her. Power was money, and, while Chico had plenty, she had none. But she wasn’t going to lie down and give up. Rottingdean would be left in the best state she could manage—and she had an idea how to raise some more money to share amongst the tenants.
There wasn’t much time. The gates were due to open in a few hours in preparation for the sale at midday. She would rally the ground staff, and, with their help, set aside land for paid parking. Hamish could gather his ghillies together and take people on tours of the estate with a view to perhaps adding guided nature trails to the list of attractions at some later date, while Annie could brew tea and start baking.
The Rottingdean café was born, Lizzie thought, feeling upbeat now. Her grandmother’s conservator could give tours of the house, while Lizzie could take children to see the animals and new ponies. Raising sufficient funds in a day to support everyone until they could find new jobs was a bit of a pipe dream, but anything was better than nothing, and she wanted to prove that Rottingdean did have a future, and shouldn’t be torn down. The Rottingdean Experience was about to be launched on an unsuspecting world.
* * *
The Rottingdean Experience was an even bigger success than Lizzie had envisaged. Money poured in. And though these were only small amounts compared to the debt owed, the buckets full of coins and small-value notes represented the pride of the estate to her. The hall where the auction was to be held was full to capacity, and it seemed that everything was going smoothly, until the auctioneer called to say he was indisposed, and there was no one else available to take the sale.
Lizzie faltered—but only for a few seconds. There was someone who could take the sale, she determined.
She dressed up and put on her high-heeled shoes. An auctioneer had to show a bold face to the world, and not seem defeated, and she was nowhere near finished yet.
‘Who knows these items better than I do?’ she asked the group of representatives from the various institutions with an interest in the outcome of the sale. ‘And devils can’t be choosers,’ she pointed out.
And so it was agreed. Lizzie would take the auction.
‘My lords, ladies, and gentlemen,’ she began in a firm, upbeat voice, standing on the rostrum where everyone could see her. ‘Today we are holding a very unusual and special sale where many of these items have been in the Fane family for centuries, so I hope you all have your funds in place, because I know you’re all going to want to spend lots of money.’
A ripple of good-humoured laughter opened the proceedings, and from there the sale flew along at a rate of knots.
* * *
He remained in the background as Lizzie took the sale. He had his people planted in the crowd. Several more were online, and there were a couple on the telephone. He had this sale wrapped up. The bright light that had first attracted him to Lizzie when she was little more than a child was blazing strongly today. Far from being beaten by circumstance, she had this crowd eating out of her hand. As he looked around he noticed that the faces of the staff at Rottingdean had the same zeal as Lizzie’s written all over them, yet they were watching her part with what had to be a lifetime of memories for them. They all had true Scottish grit. Nothing was going to get them down. With their life in ruins they had come into their own, because of one petite figure wielding her will as well as her gavel, a tiny woman who was a giant when it came to courage and vision, and getting things done.
A thunderbolt struck him, or maybe it had struck on the day Lizzie walked back into his life. She was the only woman he wanted, and he would do anything it took to persuade her to come back with him to Brazil. But would she ever leave Rottingdean? Would she even trust him enough to let him try to win her back?